Chapter 1

The glow of the screen flickered in the dim rented room, reflecting off Jiang Yubai’s expressionless face. His head was tilted slightly upward, the line of his jaw appearing somewhat hard and cold under the screen’s light.

On the computer monitor, last night’s replay of the Netherworld Global Finals was playing. Deafening cheers carried a fervor that seemed to tear through the air.

“Champions! IFX! They are the new kings! The moment belonging to IFX has arrived!” Commentator A’s voice was already hoarse, yet still so excited it cracked.

“Ember! Yu Jin! Tonight, he is the brightest star on this stage!” Commentator B’s voice was full of awe and worship. “From a doubted genius rookie to carrying the hope of IFX’s revival as an old-established team, cutting through all obstacles to reach the pinnacle of the world! He did it! This championship is well deserved!”

The image froze on the center of the award podium. The young man wore IFX’s black-and-red jersey, standing straight as a drawn blade, golden rain falling on his slightly raised chin and the championship trophy he gripped tightly. The camera gave him a close-up. Under the spotlight, that face—which had still held a trace of boyishness back in the BZN youth training camp—now bore only cold, sharp edges.

Yu Jin, Ember.

The protagonist fated in this overpowered male lead script, whom he had personally sculpted, had finally reached the peak the script had set.

Jiang Yubai tugged at the corner of his mouth. This was the standard ending—the protagonist achieves fame and success, radiant and glorious. And he, the dutiful villain, had also followed the script: ruining his reputation at just the right moment during the protagonist’s rise, bowing out in obscurity, and ultimately holing up in this twenty-square-meter rented room, barely scraping by on the meager tips from his streaming platform.

【Ding!】A cold system notification sounded in his mind.

【Key plot node detected: Protagonist Yu Jin reaches world champion.】

【Current hatred value: 99.9%/100%】

【Congratulations, Host. Hatred value has reached 99.9%.】The system’s inorganic voice was calm. 【After the final step is executed, when hatred value reaches 100%, the Host will receive the final settlement reward and exit this world.】

Jiang Yubai gave a lazy “mm” in his mind. Finally almost maxed out. This fast-forwarded life of destitution three years later existed solely to wait for this moment—for the protagonist he had personally driven to the peak to deliver, from the highest point, the final blow to his archenemy: a victor’s taunt, a public reckoning, or even just a mocking private message.

This would be the last straw that broke the camel’s back, the final 100% of hatred value. This goal had run through Jiang Yubai’s entire “professional career” in this esports world.

In this world, his identity was the captain of the wealthy superteam BZN, ID Pale—once the only two-time champion in Netherworld’s A-region, famous in the league for his devilish strictness, a venom-laced tongue, and godlike mechanics. And his core mission was to become the rival Yu Jin could not avoid on his path to success—to use the harshest suppression and coldest denial to sharpen the other’s edge, ignite the other’s fury, and force out all of the other’s potential.

Ultimately, at the moment Yu Jin reached the championship and blazed with glory, he, the villain, would also complete his final mission—becoming the most perfect footnote in the other’s “revenge” script, enduring the delayed reckoning, and putting the finishing touch on the catharsis of the overpowered male lead’s story.

Jiang Yubai executed it meticulously.

He clearly remembered in the training room, arms crossed, standing behind Yu Jin’s gaming chair. On the screen was a replay of Yu Jin’s positioning error during a scrim due to nerves. His cold voice cut through the headset and landed clearly on Yu Jin’s tense back: “You can’t even position? Hands shaking like that—why not go fry rice noodles downstairs instead of playing professionally here?”

He remembered the review meeting, the projector’s light falling on his expressionless face. His fingertip traced across the tactical board and finally stopped on the rookie’s ID: “Ember? Mentality like tissue paper. Starting in this state—going up to give the opponents a warm welcome? BZN isn’t a daycare.”

He remembered even more clearly the corner of the dimly lit hallway where he ran into Yu Jin, who had just finished extra practice—face exhausted but eyes stubborn. He stopped, his gaze brushing over the other’s clenched jaw from unwillingness, the corners of his mouth curling as he made no effort to hide his mockery: “With the way you’re training now, what can you train besides ruining your hands? Keep this up and maybe consider a championship in your next life.”

Every cutting remark, every cold denial, every look down from a position of superiority—all landed precisely on Yu Jin’s sensitive, proud self-esteem. Finally, after yet another carefully designed conflict, he saw the last trace of hesitation in those eyes severed. Yu Jin silently packed his suitcase, didn’t look at anyone, and resolutely left BZN’s glittering training base.

And this was precisely the first step of Yu Jin’s rise in the original work. Over the following three years, the story raced forward as if on fast-forward, sprinting toward the overpowered male lead’s script.

The exiled Yu Jin erupted with astonishing energy in IFX—the quagmire everyone regarded as a dead end. He dragged IFX, an old-established team on the verge of disbanding, through a bloody battle from the muddy bottom all the way back to the top league stage.

Under his leadership, IFX transformed from a bottom-feeding also-ran into a super dark horse that made every wealthy team tremble with fear. Their playstyle was fierce and razor-sharp, their tactics strange and ever-changing, and at the core was Yu Jin’s willingness to gamble everything at the critical moment. One season, they charged into the playoffs, first showing their edge; another season, they fought into Worlds and stunned the world; and by this third year, they cut down every opponent in their path and, with unstoppable force, finally stood on the peak stage of the Global Finals, lifting the “Star” trophy that symbolized supreme glory—their first championship. Yu Jin’s name rang out in every corner of Netherworld.

And in stark, tragic contrast to IFX’s meteoric rise, BZN—the former galaxy battleship—rapidly slid toward the abyss of collapse after losing Yu Jin, that cornerstone of the future. Captain Pale seemed to lose his magic overnight, making frequent mistakes on stage as doubts began to spread. Then the dirt on how Pale had deliberately suppressed and sidelined the genius rookie Ember during his time at BZN went viral online. Snippets of scrim recordings, accusations from anonymous former teammates… every last piece painted Pale as a narrow-minded, jealous villain.

Even scandals of BZN’s chaotic internal management and discord among teammates surfaced one after another. The former king’s team became riddled with holes, its people scattered and morale gone, its league record plummeting—they couldn’t even touch the threshold of Worlds. Ultimately, under enormous public pressure and dismal results, the club’s higher-ups chose to cut their losses—terminating the contract of Captain Pale, whose form had severely declined and who was mired in public controversy, and pursuing him for sky-high breach fees. Bearing infamy and massive debt, Pale quietly announced his retirement. The former “two-time champion” and “god-tier captain” vanished completely amid the scorn of millions, and BZN’s dynasty came crashing down with him, reduced to a backdrop—not even qualified to glimpse IFX’s future three-peat.

But those three years were Yu Jin’s personal growth period; Jiang Yubai didn’t need to participate. So after Yu Jin left BZN, he activated the plot fast-forward function. When he opened his eyes again, it was already three years later, and what greeted him was this cramped rented room he now occupied—wearing an old T-shirt from before, the old injury in his wrist still aching faintly, and on the computer screen, the backend of his tiny stream with only a few hundred followers, the income column showing a pitiful number.

Now, he pulled out his phone, his fingertip sliding across the cold screen. Time to take the final step.

【Host, please prepare to receive the target character’s revenge feedback.】The system dutifully announced the procedure.

【Got it.】He unlocked the screen and set the phone on the desk, making sure he’d see any message immediately. He even leaned back into the gaming chair, adjusting to a more comfortable posture.

Come on, Yu Jin.

Let me see what the hatred you’ve accumulated over these three years will finally crystallize into—how sharp a blade?

A long, impassioned essay of accusation? The most cutting mockery? Or publicly @-ing him on social media so the whole world could admire the sorry state of this drowning dog?

He was even a little eager to see just how high the final counterattack of this protagonist he had personally polished could reach.

Time flowed silently. The championship footage on the computer had looped around to the interview segment, where a high-spirited Yu Jin was answering reporters’ questions in fluent English, his voice steady and strong.

Soon, the phone screen suddenly lit up, a new message notification appearing on the lock screen.

ID: Ember

Jiang Yubai’s brow arched almost imperceptibly. Here it comes.

He unhurriedly opened the app and tapped on the message.

【Ember】: Captain, did you see it?

A provocation that asked the obvious.

Jiang Yubai looked at the line, utterly unmoved. Right now the whole world was flooded with news of his championship—how could he possibly not see it? Obviously, this was the victor’s opening line. He could almost predict what the next sentence would be.

“You looked down on me back then—regret it now?”

“BZN without you can’t even touch the threshold of Worlds, and I’m the champion.”

“How does it feel to be trampled into the mud?”

“Thanks for the push back then—without you, there’d be no me today.”—That one might be even more poisonous, gratitude laced with sarcasm.

Jiang Yubai’s fingertip hovered over the virtual keyboard, and he even started silently counting time in his head, guessing how long Yu Jin would take to type out those hatred-filled sentences.

The phone vibrated gently again.

【Ember】: Captain

【The other party is typing…】

Jiang Yubai thought, I’m right here—hurry up and curse me out so I can move on to the next scene.

Five minutes later, the message popped up.

【Ember】: Captain, have I gotten a little closer to you?

…

Jiang Yubai: ?????

Author’s Note: