After a 9-game winning streak in duo-queue, Ye Shaoyang glanced at the clock and saw it was already 12:30 PM. He rubbed his sore neck and said to the stream viewers, “Everyone, go grab lunch first. We’ll take a two-hour noon break and continue this afternoon.”

He turned off the stream, only to see a private message pop up in-game from his client.

Jungler No. 8: “Xiao Bai, are you planning to become a full-time gaming streamer?”

Being a gaming streamer and becoming an esports pro were two different paths with distinct focuses. Chi Shuo couldn’t yet tell what Xiao Bai’s goal was—did he want to stick to streaming, or was he considering going pro?

Ye Shaoyang joked, “I only know how to play three mages, and my hero pool is shallower than a washbasin. I’ll just hit national rank with [Abyssal Lord] first and figure out the rest later.”

Hearing this, Chi Shuo suggested, “Actually, there’s a much faster way to practice heroes.”

Ye Shaoyang grew interested. “Oh?”

Chi Shuo: “1v1 in the arena. It’s the fastest way to get familiar with every hero’s skills and mechanics.”

Ye Shaoyang thought about it and agreed. “True. A ranked match takes at least fifteen to twenty minutes at best, but a 1v1 duel takes only two to three minutes. You can also test out counter-matchups between different heroes.”

Chi Shuo: “Interested in dueling a few rounds with me?”

A 1v1 duel was the easiest way to test someone’s true capability, revealing their mechanical level and understanding of heroes.

Chi Shuo left the party, opened the in-game [Arena Hall], created a custom room, and invited Xiao Bai in: “Come on, let’s see if my assassin can solo kill your [Abyssal Lord].”

Ye Shaoyang readily accepted. The low-tier games he had played earlier were too easy, and those assassins posed no real threat to someone with his level of experience. However, the client he queued with today possessed a remarkably high mechanical level, making him the perfect opponent for a 1v1 PK.

right as he entered the room, a notification popped up on screen.

——Your friend [Jungler No. 8] sent you a gift box, please claim it.

Ye Shaoyang froze for a moment. “A gift box? What’s this?”

Chi Shuo said, “[Abyssal Lord]’s legendary skin, [Bloody Avenger]. The skill effects for this skin are different, and the feel of it should be a bit smoother than the default. Try it out.”

Every time Gods’ War released a new hero, they would simultaneously launch skins for players to purchase. Different skins offered different cosmetic appearances without affecting in-game stats.

Ye Shaoyang had previously been using the default skin. The base appearance of [Abyssal Lord] was a mage clad in a black robe and hood, holding a skull staff.

After equipping the new skin, his attire changed into a black-and-red mage robe, the hood vanished, and a blood-red patterned mask covered his face. The staff transformed into a red crystal ball surrounded by a swirl of blood-red mist, highlighting the theme of “bloody vengeance.” The ultimate’s mark detonation effect featured a splatter of bloody flowers, looking far better than the original version.

Ye Shaoyang really liked this new skin and typed: “Thanks, boss. The new skin is really cool.”

Chi Shuo: “You’re welcome. Want to try it out in the duel?”

Ye Shaoyang: “Sure.”

Both pressed ready, and the map loaded quickly.

The 1v1 map was relatively simple: a single lane down the middle, flanked by a few bushes for concealment. Victory conditions for a duel usually followed two rules—either solo kill the opponent, or destroy their crystal. The players could decide between themselves.

For a 1v1 between an assassin and a mage, pushing the crystal was unnecessary.

Ye Shaoyang said directly, “Whoever gets the opponent’s kill wins, how about it?”

Chi Shuo: “Sounds good.”

The match started, and minion waves spawned from both crystals to clash in the center lane.

Both players began clearing minions to scale.

Ye Shaoyang noticed that his client’s last-hitting precision was exceptionally high. Even while Ye Shaoyang used dark shadows to constantly pressure his positioning, his opponent didn’t miss a single minion and calculated damage health margins with extreme accuracy—he had likely trained for this specifically.

It was common for top players to practice last-hitting privately, so Ye Shaoyang didn’t overthink it. Keeping his eyes glued to the screen, he continued farming. Once he had enough gold, he bought his first item, [Boots of Lucidity], to boost movement speed and lower skill cooldowns.

Because mages had a longer attack range while assassins were short-ranged, Ye Shaoyang held a slight upper hand during early laning.

Soon, both champions glowed as they leveled up simultaneously—they had both hit Level 6.

At this point, Ye Shaoyang’s [Abyssal Lord] was at roughly 80% health, while Chi Shuo’s [Bloodstained Assassin] sat at only 50%.

By all appearances, it looked like an easy kill for the mage.

Ye Shaoyang decisively initiated an attack. Bursting with mechanical speed, he tapped his keyboard in rapid succession. Three dark shadows darted like the wind toward the assassin, instantly stacking 3 Abyssal Marks and an Abyssal Gaze on him!

After applying the marks, Ye Shaoyang immediately pressed his ultimate—

However, a prompt suddenly flashed in the center of the screen: Target Lost.

Ye Shaoyang froze. Suddenly, a blood-red dagger emblem appeared over his own champion.

Instinctively, he tried to dodge, but the assassin’s movement was impossibly nimble. Swirling behind him in a flash, the sharp dagger pierced straight through his body—blood splattered across the screen, and [Abyssal Lord]’s health bar was wiped out in under a second!

Looking at his grayed-out screen, Ye Shaoyang couldn’t help but type: “You can turn the tables even from that?”

Chi Shuo said, “You got careless. [Bloodstained Assassin] has combat stealth. I timed your skill cast perfectly to make your ultimate miss, opening up the turn-around kill.”

Ye Shaoyang praised, “Your prediction is impressive.”

He had launched a sudden surprise engage, expecting to burst the opponent down in an instant. Instead, the assassin had utilized combat stealth to dodge his core ultimate, looped around behind him to counterattack, and wiped him out before he could even trigger Flash.

Chi Shuo explained, “[Bloodstained Assassin] has the strongest solo-kill capability among all assassins. Plus, his passive has a unique trait—the lower his health, the higher his damage bonus. It’s a low-HP high-risk playstyle.”

Ye Shaoyang typed: “666.”

Facing off against a true expert, Ye Shaoyang realized his current understanding of this game was still far from enough.

When he had compiled the hero data earlier, he had skimmed through all the hero skills, but that was only a high-level overview. It was impossible to memorize the unique mechanics of over a hundred champions in a short period. He had focused mainly on mid-lane champions; he had never played [Bloodstained Assassin] even once, so he naturally didn’t know the hero’s advanced tricks.

His client, however, was a professional jungler who executed assassin timing with terrifying precision.

Baiting out his ultimate timing, engaging combat stealth, rapidly looping behind—and executing a clean counter-kill.

Such a terrifying jungler would be an absolute nightmare for any squishy hero.

Chi Shuo added, “[Bloodstained Assassin] deals extremely high burst damage in 1v1 duels, but he has a fatal flaw—he struggles in team fights and dies easily.”

Ye Shaoyang analyzed, “Because he needs low health to burst maximum damage. But during team fights, there are too many AOE and crowd-control skills, making it hard for him to find an entry window?”

Chi Shuo: “Exactly. Entering at full health yields no damage, while entering at low health leaves him vulnerable to being burst down instead.”

An assassin like that demanded an exceptionally high level of macro awareness from a jungler. When teammates engaged in a team fight, when exactly should the assassin jump in? Going in too early meant getting instakilled; going in too late meant arriving only to clean up the corpses after your teammates were already wiped out.

Ye Shaoyang pressed ready: “Let’s go another round.”

He was far more cautious in the second game, choosing not to poke down the assassin’s health bar.

However, [Bloodstained Assassin] possessed a skill that allowed him to actively consume his own health—the core of his “low-HP high-risk” playstyle.

——If you don’t attack him, he can just self-harm.

A hero who played like a “hedgehog” was indeed troublesome to deal with. If you fought him and failed to kill him in one burst, his low-HP power spike would let him counter-kill you; if you didn’t fight him, his self-inflicted low health still gave him the damage to solo kill you.

Thus, as soon as both reached Level 6, Ye Shaoyang decisively used Flash along with his dark shadows to retreat beneath his tower. Chi Shuo couldn’t complete his burst combo before the target slipped out of attack range.

Ye Shaoyang chuckled: “Can’t reach me now, right?”

Chi Shuo: “……You ran fast.”

Short attack range was another fatal vulnerability of this assassin.

Can’t win the trade? Run first, and counter-engage after all his skills enter cooldown.

Although Ye Shaoyang wasn’t familiar enough with this hero yet, his extensive tournament experience meant he picked up on mechanics rapidly.

Chi Shuo noticed that Xiao Bai possessed an extraordinary “game sense.” After falling for a trick once, he immediately memorized his opponent’s attack rhythm, decisively using Flash to escape—learning and adapting on the fly with ultra-fast reaction times.

Game sense was a quality hard to define. In Coach Lin’s terms, it was called “battlefield intuition.” Xiao Bai possessed remarkably sharp battlefield intuition, enabling him to make clear, accurate assessments of the current situation at any given moment.

Chi Shuo felt a growing sense of admiration for him in his heart and typed: “Try playing [Illusionist].”

Ye Shaoyang switched to [Illusionist] and continued dueling Chi Shuo.

The map loaded, and both cleared minion waves patiently until they both hit Level 6. Chi Shuo reduced his own health and sought an opening to engage. Ye Shaoyang turned around, locked him down with an “Illusion Stun,” and bursted him down with a counter-combo.

Looking at the assassin collapsed at his feet, Ye Shaoyang typed with a smile: “You were the careless one this time.”

Chi Shuo praised: “Great timing.”

Ye Shaoyang: “Yeah, as long as you land the CC, a squishy assassin has no choice but to lie down.”

Chi Shuo said, “Hero counter-relationships are very complex. Your mechanical execution on [Abyssal Lord] is already very fluent, and reaching national rank is only a matter of time. But matches above Master 20 Stars test your hero pool heavily; knowing only three mages is far from enough.”

So that was why he had taken the initiative to duel him.

Ye Shaoyang’s current hero pool was indeed too shallow. He only knew three mages, with [Abyssal Lord] being his only high-level pick. Forget playing in the professional league—he would struggle even in high-star ranked matches.

Expanding his hero pool was an absolute necessity. In his past life, he was praised by opponents and coaches as a “versatile mid-laner” who could play every mage hero, leaving enemy coaches unable to target-ban him during BP.

Still, he couldn’t eat a whole feast in one bite; everything had to be done step by step.

Just then, Qin Rui walked past behind him: “Brother, lunch is ready. Remember to eat on time.”

Ye Shaoyang happened to be hungry as well, so he typed: “Thanks for practicing heroes with me, boss. Let’s grab lunch first.” He paused, then sent another line: “If you’re free in the future, can I keep booking duel practice with you?”

Ye Shaoyang’s eyes flared with the excitement of running into a true master.

Winning continuous low-tier games was boring.

Only by clashing with top-tier players could he elevate his strength at maximum speed.

Chi Shuo replied: “Sure, let’s duel again when we’re free.”

Beside him, Coach Lin looked on in shock: “You’re acting as a sparring partner for this Xiao Bai? You’re even giving him coaching matches?!”

Chi Shuo was the S7 World Individual Champion.

Bloodstained Assassin was one of Chi Shuo’s iconic signature heroes.

On the international server, countless top global players begged Chi Shuo for 1v1 duels, only to be turned down. Yet today, he was actually giving a streamer a 1v1 coaching session, showing just how much importance he attached to this Xiao Bai.

Lin Feng leaned over to watch the match replay, frowning: “You made an intentional positioning error just now, didn’t you? How could your assassin get hit by Illusionist’s stun that easily?”

Chi Shuo said calmly, “That was the only way to test his true potential. Even though I left a flaw for him, his reaction was lightning-fast and he seized it instantly.” Chi Shuo pointed to the replay screen. “His reaction time is around 0.2 seconds, about the same as mine. His talent is extremely high. If he practices for a while longer, I might not even hold the advantage against him in a PK.”

Lin Feng remained silent for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the screen: “Xiao Bai’s reaction speed is indeed fast. I wonder how old he is? Whether he’s suitable for pro play still needs further observation.”

He paused, then suggested, “Since Xiao Bai isn’t a shotcaller from another team, there’s no need for you to spend so much energy on him. The playoffs are right around the corner, so we should focus on our official matches. Leave Xiao Bai to me—how about handing this alt account over to me so I can talk with him?”

Chi Shuo didn’t hand the account over to the coach. Instead, he said, “I won’t let it affect our matches. Let’s observe a bit longer.”

During their duo-queue matches earlier, he and this Xiao Bai had shared a strange, unspoken synergy.

When Chi Shuo wanted to engage, Xiao Bai would decisively Flash in to heavily damage the target, helping him lower the enemy’s health pool.

When Chi Shuo wanted to retreat, Xiao Bai would pull back in tandem, never lingering or dragging his feet.

When tower-diving for an aggressive kill, the two of them would alternate taking turret aggro, seamlessly shielding each other without a word.

They didn’t exchange much voice communication, yet they always understood each other’s intentions at the very first instant.

That kind of tacit understanding was exceptionally rare.

It was a mind-link synergy that only occurred when two high-level players shared the exact same judgment of the map state.

Although Xiao Bai didn’t have a wide hero pool yet and lacked a deep grasp of hero counters, it was uncanny how they could align on the exact same tempo and frequency.

That was precisely why Chi Shuo wanted to keep in contact with Xiao Bai.

He had a strong hunch.

He had stumbled upon a prodigy with extraordinary talent.

Perhaps their Tianhuan team could finally revive the long-abandoned “Mid-Jungle Synergy” playstyle?