Against the Algorithm

Chapter 35: Storm Signals

Yao, cheeks pink but eyes shining, followed without protest—still visibly vibrating from the tension of standing under stage lights and cameras, from knowing the crowd had seen her, that the commentators had noticed her presence, that he had noticed her presence—but also from something else.

From pride.

Because her boys— her team —had just dismantled King in record time. Nine minutes, forty-two seconds. The fastest professional match in the current season. A new standing league record. No mercy. No room for debate.

By the time they reached the lounge again, Rui already had one hand pressed to his face while Yue sat slack-jawed on the couch, holding a can of soda that he hadn't even cracked open yet.

"Ten minutes," Yue muttered, still staring at the screen. "No. Less than. Nine forty-two. What the actual—"

"Language," Rui warned automatically, though his voice carried more stunned awe than authority.

Kwon dropped into the chair next to them, looking smug as hell, while Yao lowered herself onto the edge of the armrest, clutching her ZGDX jacket sleeves in her hands but unable to hide the soft, stunned little smile blooming across her lips. "They didn't just bury him," Kwon said calmly, his eyes locked on the still-replaying match highlights. "They lit the coffin on fire and danced on the ashes."

Yao didn't say anything at first. Just watched the screen as Sicheng's champion tore through the enemy base, decisive, merciless, exacting.

And then—

"I did say to bury him," she murmured softly, voice touched with satisfaction, barely above a whisper. "They just listened."

Yue let out a dramatic groan, slumping sideways. "Remind me never to piss off our Tiny Boss Bunny again," he muttered into the cushions. "She might not stomp us , but she'll feed us to Cheng-ge with a damn spreadsheet and a smile."

And Rui, rubbing the bridge of his nose, could only nod slowly. "Let the league write its headlines," he said under his breath. "ZGDX just made a statement."

The hallway was mostly empty, the kind of quiet that settled after the chaos of post-match interviews and cleanups. Yao had only intended to slip down the corridor for a quick restroom break, brushing her hair behind her ear as she moved with quiet steps. But just as she passed a tucked-away door marked "Equipment Storage," a soft sound caught her attention—sharp, broken, and unmistakably raw.

Crying.

Pausing, Yao turned her head slightly. Her hand hesitated just before reaching for the handle, her brow furrowing. It wasn't in her nature to pry, but something about the sound—muffled and clearly trying not to be heard—had her quietly easing the door open, poking her head inside.

Her eyes widened slightly.

A'Guang.

The Captain of King.

His shoulders were hunched, his head ducked low as he quickly swiped at his face, the faint pinkness around his eyes betraying the tears he hadn't quite managed to hide. He startled at the sound, turning with a sharp, defensive look that flickered into something ashamed the moment he recognized her.
"What do you want?" he muttered, voice thick, trying and failing to pull his pride back into place.

Yao stood awkwardly in the doorway, fingers tightening slightly against the edge. "I heard someone crying," she said, voice soft but not uncertain. "So I came to investigate."