Chapter 9 — Middle Road Rules

Since Châu treated her wrist, Hải Đăng's attitude toward the club had changed dramatically. The bad mouth was still there, the training lesson was still as strict as torture, but he no longer kept an overly cold distance.

Instead of just standing with his hands behind his back to give direction, Đăng sometimes carried a chair himself and sat next to Kiên '3G', holding his hand and showing him how to time his ranged attacks to optimize damage. Occasionally, he would go into the optional room to demonstrate a smooth combo for Hùng 'Gaur' to follow.

There was only one week left until the preliminary round of the National Student Electronic Sports Tournament (NHEC). According to regulations, to be seeded, a team must reach a minimum average rank of Platinum. However, the current HD E-sports squad was full of amateurs stuck in Silver and Gold ranks.

"Time is running out," Đăng banged his heels on the table to attract attention. "From today, we will practice real combat (Rank) continuously for 5 matches every night. I will use my secondary account (smurf) to fight with you guys. Your mission is not to win, but to survive and do exactly what I taught. Is that clear?"

"Understood, Captain!" All four people said in unison. Having the former professional prodigy personally pull the rank is the dream of many gamers.

Đăng sat in his familiar mid lane position, locking onto Zeta.

The first match went quite smoothly. With outstanding skills, Đăng easily crushed his opponent in the Mid lane, continuously ganking (supporting) both wings, creating a huge advantage to end the game within 20 minutes.

However, in the third game, they encountered a quite "tough" team (Party) of Diamond rank. The opponent plays very carefully, knows how to control vision and plays closely to tactics. The match lasted until the 40th minute, with both sides struggling for each big goal.

At this time, Hùng had already died three times because he was caught alone. Tuấn went to the forest and was constantly robbed of his amulets. All the pressure of carrying the team falls heavily on Hải Đăng's shoulders in the Mid lane position.

"Gather in the thousand-year-old dragon's cave," Đăng ordered through the microphone, his fingers flying across the keyboard at breakneck speed. "Nam, prepare to unleash your ultimate wide-area control move. Kiên, keep your distance."

Fighting broke out fiercely. Đăng controlled Zeta to rush in like a bolt of lightning, dodging the enemy's two directional skills with a perfect flash, aiming straight at the enemy Gunner position.

At that moment, to perform a 4-move assassination combo within 0.5 seconds, Đăng's thumb and index finger had to turn a rather harsh angle on the mouse's surface.

*Crack.*

A small sound rang out from Đăng's right wrist.

Đăng groaned softly, his face suddenly pale from pain. The right hand holding the mouse suddenly lost strength and slid off the button. Zeta's deadly combo stalled midway through the final move.

Missing a beat, the enemy Gunner immediately used Flash to escape and returned to shoot back. Zeta, originally a bloody general, evaporated right in the heart of the enemy. Losing their main source of damage, the four remaining members of HD E-sports quickly fell apart.

"DEFEAT."

The screen once again turned red with defeat. But right now, no one cares about the outcome of the game.

All eyes turned to Hải Đăng. He was sitting hunched over, his left hand tightly holding his trembling right wrist. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Đăng! What's wrong with you?" Bảo Châu rushed forward in panic and quickly threw the notebook on the table. She knelt down on one knee next to Đăng's chair, carefully lifting his right arm.

"Get away... It's okay..." Đăng gritted his teeth and said, trying to snatch his hand back, but her strength right now couldn't even resist Châu's grip.

"It's okay, your head!" Châu raised her voice, the first time she shouted at Đăng. She saw that the blue muscle patch on his wrist was soaked with a wet streak of sweat. Đăng's hand was cold and twitching slightly due to mechanical contractions.

She turned sharply to the remaining four people: "Stop all activities! Turn off the machine! Tuấn, go to the canteen to buy me a bottle of ice. Hùng, get the towel out of the closet quickly!"

The four boys frantically followed the manager's orders without daring to delay for a second. They had never seen Bảo Châu so angry and scary.

Châu gently removed the old tape. Đăng's wrist area was visibly swollen and red. Carpal tunnel inflammation was not an injury that could heal in a day or two, especially when it was forced to work too hard for a long time. Đăng's attempt to use high APM skills at low rank to carry the team caused a serious recurrence of the injury.

"Ice here, Ms. Châu!" Tuấn hurriedly ran in, holding a bottle of ice water against a soft towel.

Châu applied a cold towel to Đăng's wrist. Đăng shivered slightly, the sharp pain in his brain gradually subsided under the effect of low temperature.

"I told you that you're only a Coach, why would anyone hire you to jump into ranked play?" Châu applied ice and grumbled, her tone mixed with blame and sorrow. "Are you going to let this arm go completely to be satisfied, you idiot?"

Đăng was silent, his eyes averted. The pride of a former player makes him not want anyone to pity him, especially in this pathetic form. But with Châu's dedicated and sincere care, the icy shell inside him was cracking piece by piece.

"Listen up guys," Châu turned to look at the four remaining members. "In the upcoming tournament, HD E-sports will have to compete without Mr. Đăng's direct help in the game. He is only responsible for Ban/Pick and coaching. Everyone must be self-reliant. Do not rely on anyone. Is that clear?"

"Clear, manager!" The four members responded in unison, their eyes looking at Đăng carrying admiration mixed with new determination. They realized how their Captain sacrificed his health for this bottom team.

"Miss Châu is right," Hùng 'Gaur' patted his chest. "Brother Đăng, just rest. In the preliminary round, let me carry the burden!"

"You can carry the opposing team," Kiên '3G' interjected, but not with a sarcastic meaning but with a playful smile. "Let my Gunner carry the load."

Looking at the group of kids arguing for the right to "carry the team", Đăng slightly raised the corners of his lips, forming a faint but rare warm smile.

Châu secretly looked at that smile, her heart skipped a beat. She gently and carefully applied a new layer of medical bandage to his wrist, silently promising herself that she would not let Đăng suffer any more pain in this E-sports world.

"Thank you," Đăng suddenly said, his voice so low that Châu thought she heard him wrong.

"Thank you for what?" She looked up, her eyes surprised.

"For not asking if I was okay," Đăng looked down at his bandaged wrist, avoiding her eyes. "Everyone asks that question. My old manager asked it too, right before signing the paperwork to kick me out of the team. That sentence sounds so hollow. You're different, you just act."

Bảo Châu paused for a second, then laughed lightly, trying to hide the emotions welling up in her heart. "Then maybe next time I should ask you before applying the bandage? Respect the patient's right to refuse."

"Don't," Đăng replied immediately, so quickly that he was surprised by his reflexes. "Just keep doing it."

The remaining four members stood not far away, pretending to be attentive to the screen but still listening attentively. Kiên gently nudged Hùng with his elbow and winked, but no one dared to tease him again. There was something in the atmosphere of the computer room right now that was so fragile and precious that even the most carefree boys knew to keep quiet.

Late that night, when everyone had left, Bảo Châu was left alone to clean up the medical supplies. She sat down at the table, opened her strategy notebook, but instead of taking notes about the game, she wrote a short diary entry.

"Today Đăng said thank you. It's just two words, but I feel happier than when the team won the first match. I'm starting to understand why people call him Magic Hand — not because of the way he holds the mouse, but because of the way he makes others want to try their best for him, even though he never says anything sweet."

She closed the notebook, smiled alone in the quiet computer room, then stood up, turned off the lights, locked the door, carrying with her a warm feeling that she had never experienced since the day she took on the responsibility of being the manager of a seemingly hopeless club.