Let Faker Leave!

"Fuck!"

In the private room of an internet café, Xu Junyan was queueing on the Korean server while watching the thrilling drama unfold in Xiaohu's stream. He was so furious he laughed and cursed.

"You RNG animals really are something."

Xu Junyan truly wanted to sneer.

As expected of a club that was filthy to the extreme, just as he had thought, they would never let go of any opportunity to market themselves.

Like right now—because of this grand performance by Xiaohu and Damon, countless R-tard Royal dogs were moved to tears.

But if he had to evaluate it, he could only say that these Royal Hooligans had been trained far too well. They had no brains at all. They believed whatever anyone from top to bottom at RNG said, like some kind of... pet dogs?

But this was good.

He had already intended to use this to hit RNG hard. Damon and Xiaohu taking the bait like this only benefited his revenge plan.

The corner of Xu Junyan's mouth curled up as he narrowed his eyes and opened Weibo with a smile.

His Weibo follower count had now reached 520,000. Ridiculously, all 520,000 of those followers were Royal Hooligans who had followed him just to insult him.

A month had passed since that incident, yet even now, more than 10,000 Royal Hooligans still came to his Weibo every day to leave abusive comments. Their insults were exceptionally vile; they cursed him over everything imaginable, taking online harassment to the absolute extreme.

The comments on his latest Weibo post had reached a terrifying one million-plus, and his private messages had likewise reached a terrifying one million-plus.

The madness and derangement of the Royal Hooligans were obvious.

Of course, Xu Junyan was not affected by any of it. When he was bored, he even deliberately browsed through them for amusement. He had simply never responded to those little Royal Hooligans.

It was not because he was cowardly or afraid. It was only that, at least for now, there was no need. Even if he replied, he had to wait for the right moment—one that would gather all those little Royal Hooligans together so he could slaughter them all at once.

Otherwise, was there any meaning in constantly trading insults with these idiotic Royal Hooligans?

No. None at all. It would only waste his time for ranked games. He was not like those brainless Royal Hooligans, who had nothing to do all day except flame people.

Xu Junyan drafted a post, thought about it, and ultimately gave up for now. There was no rush. Let the bullets fly a little longer.

With the nature of a pure-trash club like RNG, since they had said something so "impassioned" and "righteous" today, could they possibly refrain from marketing it?

"It'd be a loss to close the net now. Let these idiot dogs market themselves a little longer. I'll strike when the hype is at its peak. By then, I'll probably have reached the top of the Korean server too."

Xu Junyan rubbed his chin, put away his phone, and closed the stream as well so it would not dirty his eyes. He simply continued queueing.

Of course, since he might be preparing to compete in the LCK next, he also needed to learn some necessary Korean.

His academic background was not bad, but he had not studied Korean in college. As for foreign languages, he had only gotten an ordinary IELTS score of 8 and could communicate normally with people in English. Starting Korean from scratch was not particularly difficult, since Korean itself was a minor language that had developed out of Chinese. How hard could it be for someone who knew Chinese to learn a branch of their own language family? Still, easy as it was, it would take time to truly master it.

Xu Junyan found a Korean-learning website and began teaching himself some basic vocabulary. He kept at it until he found another match, then slightly focused his mind and accepted the game!

Incheon, South Korea, SKT Club.

By ten at night, all of SKT's starters had finally finished the day's scrims—their final scrims before the official matches.

The scrims had gone poorly and were far from satisfying. They had played BO3s against AF and JAG respectively that day. In the end, they had only won one game against Corki's team and lost everything else.

Even Coach Kkoma remained silent for a long time after the day's scrims ended.

In truth, more than a month ago, after the World Championship ended and Huni and Peanut had both decided to leave, while management had also decided not to invest further in new players for the time being, they had already made certain predictions about this year.

It was definitely going to be miserable!

First and foremost, the gap in the top lane would be enormous. Untara's strength simply was not enough for major responsibilities.

Then there was Blank in the jungle, who was also strange. Sometimes he was very strong, yet other times he was unbelievably bad—absurdly bad, extremely unstable.

Although recent scrims had proven that Bang and Wolf in the bottom lane remained steady, and had even unexpectedly been able to carry—perhaps Bang was atoning for the sins he had committed at the S7 World Championship—regardless, Bang had indeed displayed the value of a world-class ADC. But it was useless. Their top and jungle could not hold up.

Then there were problems in mid lately as well. Faker had always played extremely aggressively, especially when he split-pushed and coordinated with top lane. From a god's-eye view, Faker's choices were not wrong at all. They could even be called the most refined decisions, and he acted on them with the greatest speed. The problem was that a player at Untara's level simply could not adapt to his tempo or keep up with it. As a result, Untara only looked clumsy, while Faker himself became completely disconnected from the team. Then, naturally, their teamfights collapsed at the first touch.

This was SKT's current state. With the top-tier engine in mid no longer suited to a lower-tier team, it was no wonder they kept suffering crushing defeats in scrims. They could not even beat a mid-to-lower-tier team like Corki's team.

kkOma did not speak, and no one else dared to speak either. They lowered their heads and quietly accepted this helpless gap.

Former champions, the former three-time championship dynasty—were they truly going to fall like this this year?

It was truly hard to accept.

"Coach!"

Untara suddenly stood up. Gritting his teeth, his eyes red, he seemed to have made a decision that was crazy even to himself.

Hearing this, kkOma slowly raised his head, adjusted his glasses, and softly asked, "What is it?"

"I think Sang-hyeok hyung may have been too tired lately. How about we let Sang-hyeok hyung sit on the bench and rest for a while?" Untara said loudly.

The instant those words came out, the entire practice room fell silent. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, and everyone looked at him in shock.

Faker did too. He raised his head with slight surprise and looked at the person who had once affectionately called him Sang-hyeok hyung over and over.

Untara turned his head away, refusing to meet their gazes. In truth, he was furious too—angry beyond measure.

He knew he was somewhat weaker than seniors like Marin and Duke, but did Faker have to humiliate him like this?

Whenever they coordinated, Faker never listened to him at all. He just kept following his own tempo as always. Wouldn't that make him, Untara, look incredibly stupid every time? If this continued, they would definitely lose their matches. When that happened, all of SKT's fans' anger would gather on him, wouldn't it?

Why?

He refused to accept this! Rather than that, he wanted to take a huge gamble. He did not want to leave his starting top lane position at the prestigious SKT, nor did he want to be cursed by SKT's fans.

Then why not let Faker leave!!