Chapter Six: I Can Sweep the Enemy Even with the Default Skin!

After midnight, Xinran climbed into Liu Wei’s armored vehicle, ready for a night of five-stack ranked matches to rack up performance points.

Liu Wei, the tyrant of the Apex Ladder, was most notorious during Season 18 when he alone held the top three spots on the leaderboard—three separate accounts, all under the name Liu Wei. First was Liu Wei, second was Liu Wei, and third, also Liu Wei. Arrogant beyond measure, but it was a testament to his strength.

Yet, with new seasons and new blood, his dominance gradually waned. Now, his main account still placed within the top thirty. Tonight, Liu Wei was leading the five-stack, with Xinran, Xiao Jie, Yifan, and Shiguang—all among the top hundred players, boasting at least twenty national-ranked heroes between them.

“Back from the Apex Ladder prison, boys!” Liu Wei’s voice rang out the moment Xinran entered.

Shiguang, still agitated, added, “No joke, I ran into a Master Lu with a 0-9 score today. All he did was split push, got caught every time, and insisted he was buying us time!”

It was 12:10, and as everyone had just finished their own ranked runs, the conversation naturally revolved around the Apex Ladder.

“Master Lu lacks mobility to begin with,” said Yifan, the undisputed authority on the hero, his tone calm but confident. “When split pushing, if the enemy comes, unlike heroes like Miyue, Mengqi, or Lü Bu, he can’t just ult away. You have to know how to counter-engage. For example, with my Master Lu, it takes at least two to handle me, and even with three or four, I can decapitate their carry in the thick of battle. That’s the difference!”

Xinran interjected, “Honestly, I met a Master Lu today who was just absurd. Have you ever queued up with an ID called ‘Shared Heartbeat’?”

“Nope.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Who’s that?”

“What about Haoran?”

Still, all negative. Xinran continued, “This guy’s Master Lu was something else. I played Guan Yu against him, but his movement was so unpredictable, I could barely land a hit. He crushed me early game.”

“Impressive,” Yifan’s interest was piqued. “Normally, Master Lu struggles into Guan Yu.”

“It was more than positioning,” Xinran went on. “Last push, he was about to break our high ground, Nakoruru dove him, but he ulted her in place, then blinked in and took down our tower. And the craziest part? After that, he wiped out our whole team!”

“Now that’s interesting,” Yifan nodded. “A well-timed second skill can pull it off, but using the ult to tie someone outside for a tower push? That’s exactly my style!”

“It’s just a shame I haven’t met him in the Apex Ladder yet,” Yifan said, a note of regret in his voice. “If this streamer Haoran is as good as you say, he’ll climb up soon enough. I’ll get my chance to play him.”

······

Tonight, Lin Hao’s stream was noticeably busier than yesterday. Fans had noticed that ever since Lin Hao changed his name from Shark Haoran to Shared Heartbeat, switched up his recall, quick chat, and emotes, he seemed a different person.

A little more flamboyant, perhaps...

Truth be told, Lin Hao’s playstyle was always aggressive. In diamond rank, you could style on your opponents, even dive their fountain and swap for a resurrection armor. But on his main account, in the 2000-point Apex Ladder, even Lin Hao had to tread carefully. One misstep could cost the entire game.

The appearance of the system—and that script-like movement skill—had unleashed Lin Hao’s wild side, letting him play bold without fear.

As always: if you win, it’s called skill; if you lose, it’s just showboating.

“Haoge was on fire yesterday—climbed straight to 2100 points with a win streak! Wonder if he’s still in form tonight.”

“Haha, maybe he actually took lessons in creating drama. After watching yesterday’s stream, I can’t get that Shadow City recall out of my head.”

“It’s hilarious watching Haoge tilt his opponents!”

“What’s nuts is he pulls off every flashy play! I played Xi Shi once, and their Kai tried to kill me. I yanked him away, recalled in his face to taunt, but his movement was so fast he caught up and killed me, then spammed the question mark emote!”

“Bet you were dying of embarrassment!”

Lin Hao glanced at chat, picked a few questions to answer: “Why did the streamer suddenly get so good?”

He replied, “I explained yesterday, right? Back in the youth training days, I was too strong. The league thought I’d break the balance, so they made me sign an agreement to ban me. Now that it’s expired, I can finally show my true power.”

“Will the streamer play like yesterday? My friend recommended your stream...”

“Of course! I majored in psychology in college. Reading opponents’ minds is my specialty!”

He even changed his stream title to: “National Server’s Enemy: Point Fire Line Rushing for No. 1.”

After chatting a bit, Lin Hao finally queued into a game.

What to play first tonight?

In theory, with the script-level movement skill, all his heroes had leveled up dramatically. But his strongest right now was still Yuan Ge, the hero he’d just drawn a skill point for yesterday!

What would it look like for the best Yuan Ge on the national server to have script-level movement?

Lin Hao was about to find out.

Confidence is the apex. He instantly called for first pick and locked in Yuan Ge.

Yuan Ge?

The viewers expected another night of Master Lu, but Lin Hao boldly picked Yuan Ge.

Longtime viewers were puzzled. Lin Hao had never really played Yuan Ge much, at least not in the Apex Ladder. And yet, here he was, taking the hero with such confidence.

“Does the streamer even play Yuan Ge? That hero is tough!”

“In this patch, Yuan Ge’s basically unplayable!”

“Back in Season 22, Shark’s acceleration made Yuan Ge dominate the charts for a month, ending with a record-breaking 2827 points.”

“Haoge’s Yuan Ge win rate is awful... 18 games, 50%. Isn’t he just practicing the hero?”

Lin Hao waved off their doubts, “Ever heard the saying, ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’? Or, ‘A scholar should be viewed with new eyes after three days apart’?”

“My Yuan Ge now? Starting at national server level, no upper limit!”

He switched his skin from the Clouds Puppet Show to the original.

“I’ll stomp the enemy with the base skin, dance the tango right in front of them. Believe it or not?”

Arrogant.

Utterly arrogant.

Beyond the limit.

That was the first word that sprang to the viewers’ minds.