After the Fake Omega Exposure [E-sports] - Chapter 2

The manager was in his office, listing every free-agent Assassin player to prepare for a round of selections and tryouts. Time was tight—with less than three days until the next match, he was worrying himself bald.

The door was kicked open with force. He didn’t even need to look to know it was Chu Jiangli. He said helplessly, “Zhuque, can you please knock before entering my office? You’re an Omega, after all. It wouldn’t be good if you walked in on me doing something private.”

Chu Jiangli’s originally high-spirited expression instantly shifted into a tearful look as he reached the desk. “You’re being mean to me~” He sat down slowly, crossing his legs elegantly, his upward glance radiating a natural, lazy charm.

Manager: “…” Could you not?

Finding it no longer fun, Chu Jiangli turned serious and handed over a file. “Buy Chi Lang. He’s terminated his contract.”

“Lang-Wei-Xian?” The manager disagreed. “He won’t work. He’s too old, and he was kicked out by his team. Our team doesn’t pick up trash.”

Hearing this, Chu Jiangli let out a heavy cough. The manager immediately changed his tune: “He’s a top-tier Assassin, so he won’t be easy to buy. Not to mention the high signing fee, he’s known to be a difficult person to deal with.”

“High signing fee? Are you joking? His signing fee has only been around three million these past two years.”

Once, the ID ‘Lang-Wei-Xian’ was the “Ghost Fox” of the Assassin role—elusive and lethal. While Planet 9 had no shortage of talent in other positions, the Assassin role lacked standout stars. For a long time, Chi Lang was the league’s premier Assassin, and his value reflected that.

Even though MGC’s previous Assassin had won an Inter-Star championship, his market value couldn’t compare to Chi Lang’s peak.

Unfortunately, Chi Lang hadn’t won any significant awards or shown exceptional performance in recent years. As he aged, his value plummeted, and being kicked out by MAG made him a target of public criticism. MAG had been performing excellently lately and had a massive fanbase second only to MGC; as a mid-season addition, Chi Lang was naturally the center of controversy.

Chi Lang’s fans had mostly scattered as his career declined, leaving few to speak up for him.

“With three million, we could buy a promising rookie. Buying a 21-year-old veteran isn’t cost-effective. Plus, he’s surrounded by controversy right now; it’s really unnecessary.”

For MGC to buy such a player was practically asking for trouble. The Assassin is the second most important role in the team. Even if he was mediocre like their previous player, he shouldn’t be this problematic.

Although the manager usually just handled logistics without making major decisions, he understood the pros and cons. From an operational standpoint, bringing in a player burdened with “black material” and negative rumors would damage the team’s image.

“I’m here to notify you, not to negotiate.” Chu Jiangli picked up his phone and started playing Candy Crush. He swung his legs leisurely, his V-neck revealing his collarbone and fair skin. His complexion was so pale it seemed to glow, contrasted by his very dark eyes. When he looked at someone intently, it was impossible to refuse him.

If Chi Lang was the Ghost Fox of the game, Chu Jiangli was the fox of reality—every move he made was incredibly alluring.

The manager muttered, “You’re only doing this because Captain Ling listens to you.”

“That’s right. He listens to me, so you all have to listen to me.”

The manager was choked with frustration. He took several deep breaths, stood up, and poured a cup of tea. Swallowing a tea leaf with a large gulp, he said, “Captain Ling is already 20. He might only have a year or two left before retirement. Do you think it’s appropriate to make him spend the end of his career playing with someone else’s whims? Zhuque, we are an e-sports team, not a charity. I can’t agree to this Chi Lang matter unless…”

The sounds of “Amazing!” and “Unbelievable!” echoed from the phone. Chu Jiangli managed to look up for a second. “Unless what?” He glanced at the manager’s lower body. “Don’t tell me you want me to sleep with you. That little thing of yours wouldn’t satisfy me.”

“Pffft—cough cough cough!” Water sprayed everywhere. The manager turned beet-red from coughing, his chest soaked. “Are you crazy?!” He cursed while wiping the table with a cloth. “Can’t you be a bit more reserved as an Omega? Is that something you should be saying?”

Chu Jiangli sneered. “What? Are you trying to say you’re impressive down there? Is a Beta as capable as an Alpha?”

For the first time, the manager felt glad he was a Beta who couldn’t smell pheromones. Otherwise, given Chu Jiangli’s current mood, the room would surely be flooded with cloyingly sweet Omega pheromones. “That varies from person to person. If you really want to know, go find a Beta boyfriend.” Looking at Chu Jiangli’s face, he sighed. “Forget it. An Omega like you going for a Beta would be a waste of God’s gift. You should find an Alpha to carry on those genes.”

“I was discussing size with you, and you jumped straight to me having kids?” Chu Jiangli leaned back lazily in the gaming chair. His dark eyes were like un-meltable ink. He raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly. “You’re not fantasizing about me, are you?”

“Pah, pah, pah!” The manager was completely outmatched. “I’ll file a report with headquarters first.” He wiped the table clean and handed a stack of Assassin profiles to Chu Jiangli. Seeing he wouldn’t take them, he forced them into his hand. “Would it kill you to look? What if there’s someone more suitable?” He then pushed Chu Jiangli out. “Go, go, go, stop bothering my work. If you’re so bored, go play some ranked matches.”

Chu Jiangli was kicked out of the office. Carrying the folded profiles, he saw a trash can by the training room door and was about to toss them in when they were snatched away.

“Are these the Assassins we’re looking to buy?” Ling Fenghui flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing deeper. “Why are there so many rookies? Which one was chosen?”

Chu Jiangli leaned against the doorframe. Inside, the teammates saw the commotion and walked out. “Zhuque, did the manager say who we’re buying?”

“Yeah. We’re buying Chi Lang.”

“Chi Lang!” The one shouting was the team’s Warrior, Yu Ye (ID: Baihu). “Why buy him?!”

Team MGC was different from others; the entire core revolved around the DPS. While the Assassin was the secondary carry, they were usually just a “green leaf” supporting the flower. MGC’s Assassins had to follow the DPS’s pace. In other words, even as a carry, the Assassin had to prioritize protecting the DPS.

However, Chi Lang was famous for being a “lone wolf” with a very individualistic playstyle. He wasn’t a green leaf; he was a bright red flower.

It was no wonder they were shocked. Bringing in a player who didn’t fit the team’s style meant they would have to redesign their entire strategy. Either Chi Lang would have to change—which was difficult given his age and established habits—or the team would have to adapt to him.

Ling Fenghui pursed his lips and asked, “Zhuque, am I being kicked off the team?”

Everyone: “?”

Baihu was horrified. “What are you thinking, Captain?! The boss would kick out the manager before he’d kick you.”

“But, buying Lang-Wei-Xian means a shift in the team core, doesn’t it?” Ling Fenghui was genuinely perplexed. “Is it because protecting me is too exhausting?”

Chu Jiangli: “?”

“Hey, don’t overthink it. If protecting you was exhausting, why would I be a Healer?”

Every Healer in the league—no, the entire galaxy—envied Chu Jiangli for being able to support Ling Fenghui. It was an incredibly easy job. Aside from the mental effort of shot-calling, Ling Fenghui rarely needed the Healer to rack their brains to save him. Enemy Assassins couldn’t even touch him; they’d be at half-health before they even got close. He wasn’t called the “Gun God” for nothing.

Chu Jiangli relied on his brain; he needed to constantly ping locations for his teammates, though his mechanical skills were slightly secondary.

“Then…”

“No ‘thens’ or ‘buts.’ Buying him won’t change your status in the team, I guarantee it with my hands and feet. You will always be the most powerful Gun God in my heart, understand? My Moonlight Scepter will always be by your side. It’s just… we can change our approach, Fenghui.”

“Change our approach?”

Chu Jiangli pulled everyone into the training room. “Our team’s style is too fixed. Even though Fenghui is amazing, we can’t rely solely on you forever.” They had used this tactic before because their previous Assassins weren’t great, and since Ling Fenghui was so strong, it was the easiest way to win.

But if they had multiple strategies and bought Chi Lang to strengthen the team’s weakest link, MGC could still dominate the league. Furthermore, if Chi Lang really refused to sacrifice for the team, then he wouldn’t be fit to be a pro player, and they could just buy someone else then.

As for why it was Chi Lang…

Chu Jiangli specifically valued the razor-sharp edge in Chi Lang’s hands. Enemies couldn’t find his trail, and he silenced them without a sound.

“But, MAG didn’t even want him. They replaced him because they thought he was washed up, and they even beat us yesterday. Buying a player they threw away is a bit…”

At the mention of this, Chu Jiangli’s anger flared. “You Alphas… you, you, and you.” He pointed them out one by one like a general counting troops, stopping at Ling Fenghui. “You three! If I ever catch you being seduced by Omega pheromones again—losing your heads as soon as you hit a heat and affecting the match—you’re all going to sit on the bench!”

Baihu and the others shrank back. “Understood. We’re not like that guy; we wouldn’t just go into heat so carelessly. Besides, you’re the only Omega on the team and we don’t go out much. It won’t happen.”

“It better not.”

Chu Jiangli told them to continue their ranked matches. He went back to his room, ripped off his anti-bite collar and tossed it on the bed. He peeled off the sticker on his gland, and a faint scent of mint pheromones drifted out—a brief cloying sweetness followed by a light freshness.

He picked up a vial of medicine from the table and swallowed it. His pheromones became cloyingly sweet once more.

He then opened his computer. A photo suddenly appeared on the wall: a man holding the Eternal Blade behind his back. His fox-like eyes held a ghostly glint as he stared straight at the screen. His youthful features carried a heavy sharpness, as if he were born for the Assassin role, merging into one with his blade.

Chu Jiangli walked to the wall and greedily caressed the man’s features. A husky voice escaped his throat:

“Chi Lang… you are mine.”