SITS CH38

Chapter 38: Clashing with GC

The medical staff said the laceration could only be given a makeshift dressing here; proper medical treatment required heading to the hospital.

Shen Man glanced toward Xu Zhouye: “Where’s the manager?”

Xu Zhouye said, “I’ll shoot him a message.”

Moments after the message was sent, the manager rushed in completely out of breath, followed by several visibly distraught teammates.

“How is it?” the manager asked.

Shen Man said, “Manageable. My hand isn’t snapped in two yet. What did the organizers say?”

The manager’s expression darkened instantly, speaking through gritted teeth: “They refuse to postpone the match!”

Shen Man let out a faint sigh. In truth, he had already anticipated this outcome: “What about the guy who collided with me?”

“Detained,” the manager said. “They deny doing it on purpose. Security is pulling surveillance footage right now, but the match must proceed on schedule. They claimed they have no way to account to the live audience otherwise.”

These were merely hollow excuses, transparent to everyone. A collision like this was notoriously hard to pin down; even if deliberate, hard evidence was nearly impossible to prove. By ordinary standards, Shen Man’s injury was just an average flesh wound that would mend on its own after resting for a period, yet his entire career relied on his hands.

Shen Man lowered his eyes to inspect his arm. The spot that had scabbed over was torn open again, exposing raw, crimson flesh that looked intensely grotesque. He clenched his fist slightly, testing the sharp flare of pain traveling through his fingers and palm under tension. Perhaps having calculated his limits, or perhaps deciding this agony was bearable, Shen Man murmured softly: “It’s fine. We play.”

Everyone was taken aback.

“How do we play like this?” Zhao Rui blurted. “How about we field the substitute…”

“No,” Shen Man said. “I’ll play.”

Their team’s substitute was geared for the jungle. If he stepped down to let the substitute take the stage, the series would be forfeited before it even began.

“But your hand…” The manager was fraught with anxiety.

Exhaling a long breath, Shen Man said, “I know my limits.”

Having spoken, he lifted his head, locking eyes directly with Xu Zhouye.

Xu Zhouye did not plead with him to sit out, nor did he urge him to reconsider. It was as though he had seen right through Shen Man’s unyielding resolve; sorrow veiled his pupils like drifting snowflakes.

Shen Man looked away, severing eye contact.

The manager opened his mouth to protest further, but Shen Man cut him off: “Manager, I know what I’m doing. The tournament officials won’t give us a satisfactory explanation in the short term. It wasn’t easy for the boys to claw their way to this stage. If we forfeit this match because of me, I will never forgive myself.”

The manager let out a long, heavy sigh. He had envisioned countless scenarios for this tournament, but never such a foul accident.

Once the wound was dressed and they rested briefly, it was time to take the stage.

The audience and casters in the arena were entirely unaware of the backstage incident. The moment ACE and GC walked onto the stage together, a deafening wave of cheers erupted.

“ACE! ACE! ACE!”

The overwhelming chants rolled across the stage like a surging tidal wave. The crowd roared with soaring passion, anticipating this clash with peak fervor.

Wearing ACE’s long-sleeved team jacket, Shen Man concealed his injured arm. He unhurriedly adjusted his peripherals, slipped on his headset, and waited for the match to begin.

The voice comms were flooded with worried inquiries from his teammates.

“Ge, if you can’t hold on, just say the word. Don’t force yourself to endure it.”

“Captain, please don’t push through the pain.”

“Exactly. Even if this year slips, there’s always next year. There’s no reason to gamble your entire career on this.”

“Shen-ge, absolutely do not overexert yourself.”

Shen Man acknowledged them with a quiet “Mm.”

Game 1 commenced.

Having just weathered such an accident, everyone harbored a furnace of fury in their chests.

“Xu Zhouye, what are you playing?” the coach asked.

“Lock in Mad Hound for me,” Xu Zhouye said. GC apparently didn’t respect him as a Jungler, actually leaving Mad Hound unbanned. Even if the enemy composition held counter-picks against it, his philosophy regarding Mad Hound was simple: as long as the opponent dared leave it open, he dared pick it.

The earlier anxiety and nerves vanished without a trace. Right now, every player glared at their monitor with venomous intensity, wishing they could reach through the glass to plant two punches square on their opponents’ faces.

Heroes locked, the game loaded in.

This was destined to be a match thick with gunpowder.

Less than ten minutes in, the casters picked up on something unusual. Caster 1 noted: “ACE’s playstyle today looks starkly different from usual. Everyone looks extraordinarily aggressive.”

Caster 2 chimed in: “Not everyone is playing aggressive; Shen Man in the bot lane is exceptionally steady.”

Steady he was; compared to his regular matches, he was steady to an extreme fault.

No lane freezing, no heavy trades, quietly farming minion waves. It was entirely unlike Shen Man’s typical lane-dominant, suffocating aggression.

Xu Zhouye, however, had inherited all of Shen Man’s fierce offensive teeth.

The moment he hit level six, GC’s jungle became his personal hunting ground.

Mad Hound’s silhouette prowled within the fog of war. For any prey marked by him, the visual cue flashing above their heads felt like the Grim Reaper’s noose. Nobody could predict which angle he would pounce from to tear open their fragile throats with razor-sharp fangs.

Having seen Xu Zhouye’s Mad Hound, Shen Man understood its sheer terror. This Hero was Xu Zhouye’s premier pocket pick; anyone who studied his VODs would never leave it unbanned.

Evidently, GC hadn’t researched ACE thoroughly—or rather, they had only prepared for Shen Man, neglecting Xu Zhouye entirely.

Naturally so. In the eyes of many, the sole reliable pillar carrying ACE to where they stood today was Shen Man alone.

With Shen Man injured in an accident, ACE should have been nothing more than a helpless lamb waiting for slaughter.

Unfortunately for them, ACE standing where they did today was never the work of Shen Man alone.

ACE had never approached a match with such fierce, coordinated focus. Zhao Rui’s ward coverage reached absolute perfection, anchoring beside Shen Man to shut down dive attempts. The mechanically weaker Liu Shishi held his ground firmly, while Xu Xiaochong vastly overperformed, solo-killing GC’s Mid Laner twice. The casters were left flabbergasted, wondering aloud whether ACE had taken performance enhancers today, questioning why every single player looked so terrifyingly dominant.

Most monstrous of all remained Xu Zhouye’s Mad Hound. Only Marksmen who had personally endured it could grasp that suffocating sensation of absolute dominion.

Toward the late game, GC’s bot duo didn’t even dare step off their high ground, yet cowering beneath their tier-three turret offered no salvation from death.

If tournament rules permitted surrendering, GC would have voted to forfeit right then and there; dragging out such a stomp only corrupted their muscle memory for the remainder of the series.

At twenty-eight minutes, ACE closed out Game 1.

Staring at the word “VICTORY” on screen, Xu Zhouye exhaled a long breath of turbid air, turning to look at the person beside him.

Shen Man sat right next to him, his complexion ghastly pale, his lips pressed tightly together as if enduring intense pain.

Looking at Shen Man’s face, Xu Zhouye’s chest grew even more agitated. Even the sight of the enemy Nexus shattering failed to soothe his irritation in the slightest.

Game 1 concluded, entering a ten-minute break.

“How is the hand?” Xu Zhouye asked.

Shen Man said, “Pretty good.”

Xu Zhouye whispered, “Liar.”

Shen Man: “…”

Xu Zhouye’s lips tightened into a taut line, falling silent.

Feeling somewhat helpless, Shen Man thought for a moment before saying, “Thirsty.”

Pouting with annoyance, Xu Zhouye uncapped a water bottle and held it directly to Shen Man’s lips.

Thus, the stream audience was treated to this exact scene:

[Wait, what are they doing? Why is he feeding him water? Isn’t SLOW’s hand fine?]

[And people claimed there was no bullying! He has to be spoon-fed water right to his mouth!]

[FEST is so pitiful, treated completely like a personal servant by SLOW.]

[Boycott toxic bullying!!]

Naturally, others held an entirely different perspective:

[HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT MY CP IS REAL!! MY SHIP IS CANON!!]

[MAN TIAN BIAN YE! MAN TIAN BIAN YE!]

[I’m choking on sweetness, I’m practically hyperventilating from excitement—]

[How is this any different from publicly coming out???]

While reactions split wildly, Xu Zhouye fed him water with a grumpy pout, followed by asking with a grumpy pout if Shen Man wanted chocolate to boost his energy, before asking with an even grumpier pout what he wanted to draft for the next game.

Shen Man couldn’t help smiling: “Wind Fish, maybe. Picking a utility enabler means you won’t get mad as easily.”

Xu Zhouye: “Hmph.” Who’s mad!

In the end, Shen Man didn’t draft Wind Fish. It wasn’t that he refused to, but purely because the Hero was far too weak in the current patch, typically picked in solo queue solely to sit back and coast safely.

GC handed their first ban in Game 2 to Xu Zhouye’s Mad Hound, a clear nod of respect toward the pick.

Xu Zhouye didn’t mind. He knew that once he whipped it out, he wouldn’t get to touch it for a second game anyway.

Perhaps thoroughly shell-shocked by Xu Zhouye in Game 1, GC failed to recalibrate their mental state in time. Their execution in Game 2 was lackluster, getting completely smothered across the jungle by Xu Zhouye from start to finish.

“It seems the skill gap between GC and ACE is truly substantial.” The casters remained in the dark regarding the backstage incident, so ACE dominating GC didn’t strike them as shocking; after all, outsiders already viewed this as an uneven matchup. “ACE takes Game 2, reaching match point! Their chances of closing this out today look tremendous.”

Caster 2 agreed, noting: “Before absolute mechanical superiority, the final result carries very little suspense.”

Game 3 began.

Everyone assumed ACE would sweep the series in this game, until a teamfight broke out mid-game. Shen Man committed a catastrophic mechanical blunder, stepping directly into the face of the enemy carries. Bursted down in a split second, ACE suffered a clean 0-for-5 ace, watching GC march straight down mid to claim the game.

The entire collapse unfolded in under five minutes. When ACE’s Nexus shattered, both casters and viewers were left completely dumbfounded.

Caster 1: “SLOW’s mechanics warped completely in that wave! Why did he position there? This…”

Caster 2: “Indeed, that pathing was rather bizarre.”

The stream chat was plastered with endless question marks, rapidly devolving into a festival for anti-fans:

[Told you SLOW is washed up trash. Without a carry jungler, ACE couldn’t even make playoffs, and now he’s relying entirely on FEST.]

[What kind of clown pathing was that? A 0-5 wipe, I could’ve played that better myself.]

[Is he sleepwalking on stage?]

Unlike the chaotic toxicity outside, even after dropping the game, not a single soul in ACE’s voice comms uttered a word of blame toward Shen Man.

On the contrary, the moment the screen darkened, everyone cast worried glances toward Shen Man.

Shen Man shook his head: “I’m fine.”

Claiming he was fine didn’t make it true. Everyone understood that as the match dragged on, the strain on his injured hand would only compound.

Game 4.

GC realized that the longer the game stalled, the greater their advantage became. They drafted a late-game scaling composition, dragging the match past thirty minutes. At the thirty-five-minute mark, ACE made another blunder: Zhao Rui was caught out while setting up vision, allowing GC to force an engage. Slaying three ACE members, GC pushed down the high ground to close out the game.

A 2-0 lead had been equalized into a reverse-sweep threat.

Domestic casters stared at the 2-2 scoreline in shock: “What happened to ACE in these last two games? It looks like an entirely different roster playing.”

Caster 2: “Indeed. And what’s going on with SLOW in the bot lane? There’s zero laning pressure…” A complete night-and-day contrast from his usual form.

[Are we actually getting reverse-swept 2-3?]

[Losing to 3B is understandable, but losing to GC means ACE should genuinely swim back.]

[What dogshit performance from SLOW today? He can’t even win lane trades, did he actually bet on the match?]

[Investigate him immediately.]

“Heading to the restroom,” Shen Man stood up.

“I’ll come too,” Xu Zhouye said.

Inside the restroom, Shen Man cupped cold water to splash his face, looking up into the mirror. Droplets clung to his skin, his features draped in exhaustion. Four competitive games, combined with drafting and intermissions, had stretched near the three-hour mark. The throbbing pain in his arm had grown excruciating; with every mouse click, the mousepad felt less like cloth and more like a chopping board lined with razor blades.

Staring at his reflection, he wiped the water from his skin.

Xu Zhouye called his name softly: “Ge.”

Shen Man said, “I’m fine.”

Footsteps approached from behind. Shen Man turned his head to see the players from GC; they had come to use the restroom as well.

Even across a language barrier, the expressions on their faces were effortless to decipher. That sneer dripping with pure malice was enough to churn one’s stomach at a single glance.

GC’s captain sported striking bleached-yellow hair. Not particularly tall, he strode beside Shen Man while laughing and joking loudly with his teammates.

Hanging at his side, Xu Zhouye’s hands were clenched into tight fists. If his remaining shred of rationality hadn’t held him back, he would have lunged forward to plant a fist in their faces right then and there.

Sensing Xu Zhouye’s fury, GC’s captain maintained his smirk, turning his head toward them.

Their gazes collided, sparks nearly igniting in the air.

GC’s captain suddenly raised his hand, drawing his palm horizontally across his throat in a blatant throat-slit gesture. Immediately after, he clutched his own right arm, groaning in exaggerated mockery, openly ridiculing Shen Man’s injured hand.

Shen Man reacted with lightning speed, grabbing Xu Zhouye’s arm before he could lunge forward.

A string of furious English profanities erupted from Xu Zhouye’s lips, words Shen Man couldn’t even fully decipher. Standing a full head taller than GC’s captain, his ferocious demeanor looked ready to tear the man apart, terrifying the captain so badly that he and his teammates scrambled into toilet stalls, slamming the doors shut.

Xu Zhouye was trembling with rage, his eyes blood-red. Yet with Shen Man gripping his hand, he didn’t dare yank himself free, terrified of aggravating Shen Man’s wound.

“Ge,” he called out.

“Calm down,” Shen Man’s tone was flat. “Throwing punches gets you suspended from the league.”

Xu Zhouye spat: “Even if I get suspended—” He wanted to say that even if he got banned, he still wanted to beat that bastard to a pulp, but meeting Shen Man’s gaze, he choked the words back down.

“Getting suspended over trash like that isn’t worth it,” Shen Man said. “Let’s go.”

Xu Zhouye shot a murderous glare at the closed stall, blue veins bulging across his clenched fists.

Returning to their seats on stage.

“Sorry, the last two games were on me,” Shen Man said. His voice was as faint as a feather, drifting as though carried away by the wind. That strikingly handsome face was drained of all color, his lips completely pale, resembling a black-and-white sketch stripped of its vibrancy.

Xu Zhouye: “…Ge, how could it all be blamed on you?” All the crushing pressure was piled onto Shen Man alone. Was failing to hard-carry while nursing an injury a valid reason to be condemned?

Xu Zhouye said, “Even if we lose…”

Shen Man cut off Xu Zhouye’s hypothetical with calm finality: “People only care that you lost. Nobody cares why you lost.”

Xu Zhouye: “…”

Shen Man said, “There are only two outcomes: victory or defeat. As for the stories behind it, not many people care.”

To earn a seat on this grand stage, who hadn’t poured in thousands upon tens of thousands of grueling hours? Only the victors earned the right to recount the bitterness behind their journey; as for why the defeated fell, nobody gave a damn.

Shen Man would never permit his teammates’ blood, sweat, and tears to be squandered because of him.