Chapter 29: The First Round, Victory!

Bang!
Headshot!
The crisp sound echoed from the speakers, reverberating throughout the internet café. In an instant, the silent crowd erupted in cheers—Brother Gui was indeed Brother Gui; one shot outside and it was a headshot. The fool was still standing on the high box, swaying back and forth, oblivious.

But the next second, the heightened excitement came to an abrupt halt. The vast internet café fell silent, the oppressive quiet weighing heavily on everyone’s hearts, their thoughts muddled.

The one who was killed wasn’t the Flying Tiger Squad, but Zhang Gui’s Grand Marshal Flying Fox.

What had just happened?

Everyone looked at each other, unable to contain their shock. Just a moment ago, when Zhang Gui rushed out and fired, Li Xin’s Flying Tiger Squad was still swaying on the platform, his lagging figure jumping erratically, steel rifle in hand, but no one believed he could pull off a triple kill. After all, Zhang Gui’s jump-shot was a massive test of player skill.

Jumping and shooting inevitably disrupts the bullet trajectory—at best, the shot might miss; at worst, it could miss entirely, the bullet flying who knows where. If it were a sniper rifle, a jump-snipe is something many have mastered: you just need to adjust the scope’s position as you fire. But now, both of them were wielding AKs, whose bullet spread is nowhere as stable as a sniper’s, and the impact multiplies.

The reason Zhang Gui could reign as king in Suonan County’s gun scene wasn’t just his sniping skills, but also his proficiency with rifles. Though not quite up to pro standards, he still outclassed most players.

By all expectations, his jump-shot should have not only hit the opponent but also dodged the incoming bullets from the enemy’s position.

But reality was harsh. Li Xin not only dodged successfully but counter-killed him. What shocked everyone even more was that Li Xin’s Flying Tiger Squad didn’t even make any wide evasive maneuvers; he simply jumped straight up twice in place, bullets whizzing past his feet.

What kind of movement technique was that?

In the silence, Zhang Gui spoke sullenly, “Skyward Step?”

Skyward Step?

The crowd was bewildered, immediately straining their memories, trying to recall any details about this move from their extensive CF knowledge.

“Brother Gui, is it the Skyward Step that was first used by ‘One Murky Water’ during the WCA?”

Someone murmured, and Zhang Gui nodded bitterly.

Whoa—

The internet café buzzed instantly. Regardless of the technique’s details, ‘One Murky Water’ was the new captain of the Dongjia Team, a freshly established identity not yet widely known—many hadn’t even heard of him, let alone learned his moves. Just from Zhang Gui’s expression, you could tell the difficulty and effectiveness of the technique.

Those who knew a bit started explaining, educating those unfamiliar.

A little brother crouched behind, ready to cheer, but Zhang Gui abruptly stopped him. He was indeed surprised and curious. The Skyward Step was a modification of the original double jump, allowing the character to pause in midair for about 0.8 to 1 second, while the old double jump only gave roughly 0.5 seconds of airtime—almost double the duration.

Don’t underestimate that extra 0.5 seconds; it’s enough for a skilled player to dodge many bullets that should have hit, truly astounding in effect.

It had only been used once by ‘One Murky Water’ in the final match of the WCA, causing a huge stir, but there was no tutorial or further demonstrations to learn from, so no one could study or imitate it. Zhang Gui had heard from his cousin last month that only Dongjia Team members knew how to use it.

Could this kid be a Dongjia Team member?

He didn’t look the part; Dongjia had never seen him, not even among substitutes. If you forced a comparison, only his slightly pudgy figure matched the former nine-time champion Dawn, but Dawn had a scruffy beard and poor spirits. This guy, however, looked energetic and refined, completely different from Dawn.

By now, everyone in the café understood the rarity and brilliance of the Skyward Step and began to see Li Xin in a new light. For some reason, they felt that if he kept up this performance, he might just turn the tables.

“Hey, do you know ‘One Murky Water’?” Zhang Gui leaned over and asked in a low voice.

“No, a friend taught me the Skyward Step. I can’t always pull it off; it was just luck.”

Zhang Gui stared into Li Xin’s eyes—earnest and pure, no sign of lying. Snorting coldly, he said nothing more and continued moving his mouse.

Er Gouzi covered his mouth, wide-eyed, looking at Li Xin with a thousand emotions; so many questions he wanted to ask. Now he understood why Li Xin dared to accept the challenge—he was actually this skilled.

Bang!

While the crowd was still basking in the glory of that epic shot, Li Xin scored another kill: 11:4.

Though still in the lead, Zhang Gui was starting to panic. He’d always been confident, staying calm even when behind, often pulling off comeback victories. But today, his confidence seemed to have been cracked open by the Skyward Step, an inner torrent threatening to burst forth.

He took a deep breath, striving to remain composed. “Ha, nothing special. I’m not that good with AKs anyway; just happened to get unlucky against you.”

This immediately drew support from many.

“Brother Gui, you’re a sniper specialist. Losing with AK is no big deal—you’ll win for sure in the next round.”

“Pssh, what nonsense are you spouting? Brother Gui’s still ahead, hasn’t lost yet.”

“Ah—Brother Gui, I didn’t mean it.”

“Go, Brother Gui!”

The crowd chattered, still rooting for Zhang Gui. Li Xin was just an outsider—even if he was strong and might win, no one would say it outright, lest they anger the master. Er Gouzi said nothing, but his clenched fists and encouraging look said it all.

“He’s more anxious than I am,” Li Xin chuckled inwardly, glancing at the stats panel: current HP: 65/100. At this rate, three more shots and he’d enter the state of virtual reality again.

With everyone watching, the game continued, but it had changed completely—now it was Li Xin’s showcase.

Five kills in a row, six, seven...

Ding!

[System Message]: Current HP full, entering virtual reality state, connecting to game character.

As he fired, Li Xin’s vision flickered, his consciousness plunging into the game. He remained fully aware of reality; his body was merely temporarily out of his control. If anyone tried to sneak up on him, he’d still retaliate forcefully.

“Damn, how did this guy suddenly get so good?” Zhang Gui was having a tough time, especially after Li Xin’s seventh consecutive kill—his aim was sharper, his movements more agile, making impossible maneuvers. Was it lag? Clearly not. How did he do it?

After being killed eighteen times in a row, Zhang Gui finally seized an opportunity, pre-firing as his opponent moved, scoring a long-awaited kill.

Virtual reality faded again, but Li Xin wasn’t bothered; with his current form, he could easily crush Zhang Gui.

The café remained silent—no one dared to comment. Li Xin was too strong, so strong they couldn’t honestly praise Zhang Gui without slapping themselves in the face.

Zhang Gui wiped his forehead with a towel, only now realizing how nervous he was—something he hadn’t felt in ages. Spitting, he grumbled, “Worst case, I’ll forfeit this round, before my form dips further and confidence slips away.”

One minute and thirty seconds later, Li Xin secured the first AK round, score: 40 to 21.

Zhang Gui suffered an unprecedented defeat—a humiliating blow. If his opponent hadn’t gone easy on him, he might not have managed even half as many kills.

Ding!

[System Message]: This round rated A. Growth experience +500.

Li Xin: Spirit of the Game
Level: 9
Growth Experience: 750/900
Attribute Points: 0
Special Skill: Heaven and Earth.

“Almost ready to level up—wonder what new special skill I’ll unlock,” Li Xin murmured, removing his headset.