Against the Algorithm

Chapter 43: Off-Script

And as the others filtered out ahead of them, Sicheng fell into step beside her—never behind, never ahead, always right where he needed to be.

At her side.

The ride to the arena was smooth, the usual silence in the van broken only by the occasional exchange between Lao Mao and Lao K over last-minute review notes. Yue was munching on dried squid, Pang was alternating between checking the team group chat and complaining that he hadn't eaten enough, and Sicheng sat near the front, legs stretched, one arm resting casually along the seat behind Yao.

Yao, curled comfortably beside him with her phone in her hands, had been quietly scrolling until a soft buzz lit up her screen.

She blinked.

YQCB_Hierophant: If that pain-in-the-ass little brother of mine steps even one toe out of line today, I expect you to tell me. No soft passes, no holding back.

Yao stared at the message for a second, then bit the inside of her cheek to stop the amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was classic Kun Hyeok—blunt, cutting, and not even remotely subtle. She typed back with careful, polite diplomacy.

ZGDX_TinyBossBunny: If Hang Suk acts out, you'll be the first to know. But I'll be in the lounge, so he probably won't get close.

She'd just pressed send when she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye.

Sicheng's head had turned slightly. His gaze—casual in appearance but razor-edged in substance—was locked on her phone screen with the kind of precision that said he didn't miss a single detail. His amber eyes narrowed a fraction as he caught the sender's name.

Hierophant.

Sicheng said nothing, didn't flinch, didn't blink. But he shifted. The quiet hum of irritation rolled off him like static. Within seconds, his phone was in his hand, and his thumb moved with a calm, deliberate rhythm as he opened their private contact and started to type.

[ZGDX_Chessman] → [YQCB_Hierophant]: Message Yue if you're bored. Leave my Xiǎo tùzǐ alone.

No emojis. No punctuation flourish. Just a blunt, territorial message from one captain to another—and best friend or not, it wasn't a suggestion.

Yao, catching a glimpse of the message over his shoulder, blinked twice and lightly smacked his arm. "Sicheng—seriously?"

"Your mine," he replied without even looking at her, voice low and flat. "He knows better."

"You're being ridiculous. He was just—"

"Trying to make sure his little brother behaves, yes. He can do that without texting you. "

Yue, not even involved but clearly sensing chaos, leaned forward between the seats again. "Did Kun Hyeok message her again?"

Yao buried her face in her hands with a groan.

"Yes," Sicheng answered.

"No," she corrected at the same time.

"Yep," Yue said brightly. "We're going to have a fistfight on the main stage before the match even starts."

"Don't tempt me," Sicheng muttered.

Yao gave him a look. "You are not fighting Kun Hyeok over a text message."