Chapter 4 - Favored of the Goddess

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation  Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Logan Yu had just left the house, making his way through the commotion of the city streets.

By some ill twist of fate, two familiar faces were heading his way.

It was a student and his mother, the student covering his face with his hands as his mother lambasted him savagely in public, as though he was guilty of the most heinous crime imaginable. Not daring to talk back to her, the student just hung his head as he walked along.

Logan recognized the student. Just as Jin had said, Yang Soon was being dragged home by his mother.

“When will you ever learn? Is playing games the only thing you can do? Why were you in a cyber café? Do you know how hard your father and I work to pay for your education, and for your brother and sister as well? We had to scrape and save every penny, and there you were, spending it on games!

“Alright, if you have to play those games no matter what, let’s see what your dad thinks when I tell him about this! I bet he’ll break both your legs!”

The middle-aged plump woman continued to shriek the whole way, so that you could still hear them from halfway down the street. As though he was a thief who’d been caught red-handed, Yang Soon just kept his eyes on the floor, never even noticing Logan as he passed right by him.

With the way Yang’s mother was bellowing away, the only thing Logan could do anyway was pretend he hadn’t seen a thing.

There weren’t many parents out there who’d appreciate e-sports, nor anything else unrelated to studies.

Making his way down the street and through a somewhat darkened alleyway, the neon lights of Rising Dragon Cyber Café came into view, a welcome sight that filled him with relief.

As soon as he’d climbed up the stairs, he heard the sounds of people slamming mice and banging elbows, through heavy metal rock music interspersed with the occasional shout from one of the players.

On the second floor, he was greeted with a gust of somewhat fresh air. The Rising Dragon was decent enough to section off a No-Smoking zone.

The smoking zone was generally populated by adults and delinquent youths, while the No-Smoking zone was where one saw more students, women, and upstanding citizens (or those trying to appear as such).

You got all sorts at a cyber café. Back before there was a computer at home, Logan had whiled away many an idle evening in here.

In those days, when he was still in elementary school or junior high, the cyber café wasn’t very strictly managed. With both his parents at work so that no one was home the whole day, in his solitude he’d felt drawn to the crowds in a cyber café.

As a kid, he hadn’t had much money to spend, so he’d been unable to play anything himself. All he did was hover behind other people, watching and learning.

Of course, he often bore witness to the most horrendous incompetence, and all he wanted to do was shove the fool aside and take control himself—and then the slaughter would commence!

The air was much more breathable in the No-Smoking zone, and it was much less common to encounter some young man with dyed hair, or an unfashionable old geezer, or some skank festooned with piercings. On a good day, you could even spot a babe or two.

“Who are you… who are you calling pathetic!” Suddenly, a holler rang through the area.

“The one who’s losing it right now, that’s who. If you can’t afford the loss then just admit it. How long are you going to keep dragging on like this?” A more cultured voice could be heard speaking in response.

“Can’t afford it? Cut the crap, even four-on-five, we could easily wipe the floor with you!” Jin blustered.

“Indeed, four against five? And who was it last week who suffered that humiliating loss, not even holding out for thirty minutes? If we go four-on-five, I think by the ten-minute mark you’ll all be cowering at the fountain, too scared to leave!” the singsong voice responded laughingly, and some others joined in the laughter.

This war of words was becoming quite the bitter feud.

Class 3 and Class 8 had long been nemeses. Whether it was the school sports meet, or basketball and soccer matches, they’d been at war with each other since Year 2, fostering a hatred as old as time itself.

Now that feud had spilled over into League of Legends. To the youth, victory in computer games held every bit as much weight as triumph in physical sports, and could similarly become the cause of much hot-blooded excitement!

“Everyone calm down!” A clear voice cut through the chaos. It wasn’t exactly a loud voice, but it easily commanded silence nevertheless, the mouth of every man snapping shut, as though fearing to lose the favor of the owner of that voice.

“Hey now, Charlene, you saw what happened last time. They’re nowhere close to my ability. Let’s play together tomorrow—I guarantee a hundred percent chance of victory!” Seth Lin, of Class 3, flashed her a winning smile.

Seth had a fair face, his complexion so clear it seemed to sparkle. His eyes lacked the same sense of purity, though. Whenever he was looking at you, there would be flashes of disdain and annoyance; whenever he was looking at Charlene, however, they shone with warmth and sincerity!

Charlene Yang’s status as the top beauty of Year 3 was common knowledge. Overflowing with sex appeal and vitality, with a broad variety of interests, including things more commonly associated with guys, such as League of Legends, most recently.

When word of this got around, it became a free-for-all between every player in Year 3, and inspired many to put in long hours at the cyber café, training to improve their skills in the hopes that it would allow them to get closer to her.

Whenever a beauty appeared in the man’s world of gaming, she would be elevated above other pretty girls, her charms suddenly far more compelling.

Girls, this is a fact of life!

Is there a gamer who doesn’t dream of finding a girl who can play games by his side, wearing whatever little clothes she usually relaxes in at home? Especially a girl with a sensual body, enchanting features?

If such a girl exists, she would be no mere babe, but a goddess!

“If there’s no one else, then I can be their Support. It’s only for one match.” Charlene took in the assembly of fire-breathing warriors with a sweep of her gaze.

“That wouldn’t do!” Neither Jin nor Seth were receptive to the idea.

There was money on the table. Anyway, if Charlene was playing Support, there’d be no meaning in the fight anymore. This whole point of the match was the girl; humiliating each other was a secondary priority.

Friendship, like class, is a wonderful thing, which can be yours if you but seek it.

“Hey guys, I’m here.” Logan decided this was the moment to step in.

As one, Jin Wong, Shane Chong, Coulson Zhao, and Sean Cao turned to him. At that moment, Charlene just happened to be standing amongst the people from Class 8, and her big bright eyes fell upon him as well, appraising him with curiosity.

“Bro, you really came,” Jin’s voice quavered with emotion. “Whatever drink you fancy, it’s on me.”

“Coke, then.” No sense holding back.

“You got it.” Jin brought a bottle of Coke over.

“I don’t know this guy.” Bernie from Class 3 pointed at Logan. “Don’t tell me he’s some hired muscle you found at the last minute?”

Logan had only joined Class 8 during Year 3, and had never really mixed around much with students from other classes. Small wonder the students of Class 3 didn’t know him.

“He’s from Class 8.” It was Charlene who said this, with an air of certainty.

“How do you know which class he’s in? Well, even if he were outside help, it would make no difference. Those four are beyond help. They can make a lot of noise, but they’re only hollow drums.” Seth put on the semblance of carefree, imperturbable serenity.

Logan was wondering the same thing: Why did Charlene seem to recognize him?

While hanging out with Jin and company, he’d stolen the occasional peek at her gorgeous legs, but he couldn’t recall ever saying one word to her. There was no reason at all the goddess of Year 3 should remember him.

Could it be, she’d seen through his mundane mug, and noticed his inner charisma, his true worth?

Sometimes it was like that: Some men, no matter how they obscured it and pretended to be otherwise, nevertheless their unique quality, their forlorn resolution, shone from their eyes—a completely natural savoir faire that could be detected by a woman of rare insight, as obvious to them as a firefly in the night, and as stark a contrast to the surrounding fare.