Chapter 2: Hiding in an Internet Café, Reading the Board

The first pale streaks of dawn were just breaking through the overcast sky. Rain dripped off the eaves, tapping against the glass windows in a sharp, brittle rhythm. The air was thick with damp mist, mingling with the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke and stale motor oil that always clung to internet cafes—like an old sponge soaked through and wrung out just right. Shen Zhiyu pushed the door open. Her hair was still wet, plastered to her temples as she stepped in. Ice-cold droplets of rain traced a path down her jawline and splashed onto the collar of her shirt. Her usually cool, detached eyes swept across the noisy hall, finally settling on the man behind the counter who was wiping a glass. For a split second, the noisy chaos of the room seemed to vacate. Every pair of eyes followed the subtle sway of her footsteps.

Old Chen looked up, his movements freezing mid-wipe. The rag slipped from his hand, landing on the slick floor with a soft *thwip*. Under the dim, yellowish light, his weathered face looked incredibly vivid, the deep wrinkles around his eyes holding years of hardship.

Old Chen: "Are you... Shen Zhiyu?"

Shen Zhiyu didn’t say a word. She just tilted her head slightly, a barely perceptible ripple surfacing in the depths of her eyes. She activated her [Empathic Mind Reading] perspective, and the world was instantly flooded with color. The cacophony of voices turned fuzzy, replaced by layers of overlapping emotional halos hovering above every head. Above Old Chen, what had been a calm, grey-blue aura was now mixed with a thick, dense patch of dark grey—the physical manifestation of fear and hidden secrets. That grey blob writhed like it had a life of its own, touching the other Emotional Blocks surrounding it. She wasn’t just recognizing her; she was recognizing the suffocating aura that belonged to a former Elite Teams support.

Shen Zhiyu: "Old Chen. Hope you've been well."

Her voice was cold, stripped of any warmth, yet it pierced the safety barrier Old Chen was trying to build like an ice shard. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. His eyes darted, trying to mask his panic with a shrewd, street-smart smile. He grabbed the fallen rag and began wiping at a non-existent stain, his fingers turning white with how hard he gripped the cloth.

Old Chen: "Whoa, big star. Why are you in this godforsaken backwater? Did your family throw you out?"

Shen Zhiyu didn't answer. She simply walked to an empty table and sat down. The chair creaked slightly, the sound echoing clearly in the quiet corner. She ordered a cup of hot tea, her fingers unconsciously tracing the rough texture of the wooden grain on the table. Her gaze drifted over Old Chen’s shoulder, landing on a machine in the far corner with a "Under Repair" sign hanging on it. The screen was pitch black and glossy, and at the entrance, the safety net was half-drawn, raindrops still glistening and wet on the ropes.

Shen Zhiyu: "The cameras here are one-way, right?"

Old Chen’s face instantly went rigid. He clutched the rag in his palm, knuckles whitening, the blue veins beneath the skin starting to show. He didn’t dare speak, just mechanically kept his head down. The dark grey Emotional Block above him grew heavier, almost suffocating his entire head. Shen Zhiyu understood perfectly. Old Chen knew some behind-the-scenes secrets of the teams that he shouldn't, and right now, he was her only shelter—and her only variable.

Shen Zhiyu: "Give me a reason to stay."

Old Chen finally looked up. His eyes held a hint of the ruthless calculation of a cornered animal. He flinched backward, as if invisible enemies were closing in behind him.

Old Chen: "Staying is easy, but those people chasing you have sharper eyes than hawks. This place is small, but it’s not a den where I can hide prey. If anything happens to you while you’re here, my little net café is getting dragged down in the wreck."

Shen Zhiyu’s fingers tapped lightly on the table, the rhythm steady but urgent. *Tap, tap, tap.* It stood in stark contrast to the rain thinning out outside. She didn’t back down. Instead, she leaned forward, her gaze sharp as a blade, driving straight into Old Chen’s pupils.

Shen Zhiyu: "I’m leaving with nothing, which means I’m useless to anyone. But if you help me wipe out my trail from the last three hours, I’ll give you intel worth three years of this place’s rent."

Old Chen’s pupils contracted slightly. Within that grey Emotional Block, a spark of golden-yellow excitement—a sign of greed—flared up like a star in the dark, instantly lighting up his eyes. He stared at Shen Zhiyu in silence for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh, leaning back onto his high stool.

Old Chen: "Well, go on. What kind of intel would make this ice queen of yours open her mouth?"

The corner of Shen Zhiyu’s lips curled into a faint, subtle smile. Her eyes remained cool, but deep down, a hot flame was burning. She didn’t answer directly but instead looked toward the brightly lit building next door across the street. An excited roar of cheers came from that direction, mixed with the clatter of keyboard keys and a teenager’s slightly manic shouting. The sound came through the double-layered glass, slightly distorted, yet aggressive.

Shen Zhiyu: "Next door. K."

Old Chen trembled. The glass in his hand nearly slipped, the tea sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

Old Chen: "Are you out of your mind? That kid has backer money and specializes in public opinion assassination. You just got kicked out of the circle, and he’s teaming up right there, aiming to crush your new team’s formation phase. Going after him is throwing yourself into a trap."

Shen Zhiyu stood up and walked to the window. The rain had stopped completely. The morning sun was breaking through the clouds, illuminating the wet, reflective streets below. Light spots danced on the ground, blindingly bright. She squinted, activated her Mind Reading view, and her gaze pierced the wall, locking onto the boy sitting in the center of the neighboring net café.

Golden light. Blinding and frantic, like magma under the scorching sun, harsh enough to burn the eyes. That was K, the ace mid-laner of the opposing team. He was standing in the middle of the hall right now, his voice penetrating the door, carrying an air of unquestionable dominance.

K: "Listen up! Today’s goal is one thing: drag that old hag out of the back! I don’t believe she can keep playing dead forever. Whoever holds the team back gets kicked out. Get the hell out!"

A chorus of agreement erupted around him, some egging him on, others snorting in contempt. Listening to this declaration full of malice, Shen Zhiyu didn’t feel a shred of fear. Instead, she felt the kind of pleasure a hunter gets when they spot their prey. She read the Emotional Blocks of the boys around K. Cool, transparent blue, mixed with a patch of uneasy grey. There was also a hidden jealousy and cracks showing under the pressure of K’s halo. Those grey patches swirled around the gold, like parasitic fungi ready to consume the host.

Shen Zhiyu: "Old Chen, K’s team isn’t stable on the inside."

Old Chen frowned, clearly unconvinced. He turned around, leaning back against the water cooler, arms crossed, a challenging look on his face.

Old Chen: "You see flowers through the wall? He K is a certified genius. His command is top-tier. How could he possibly be unstable? Don't think you can bluff me with tactics."

Shen Zhiyu: "The more arrogant he is, the more he relies on individual stats to crush the team. Look at the support on his left. Blue block with grey in it. That’s resistance wrapped in obedience. He’ll instinctively deviate from K at the critical moments of a team fight. Even if it’s just one millisecond. It’s subconscious betrayal born from emotional resonance."

Old Chen’s eyes went wide. He stared at Shen Zhiyu in disbelief, and beneath his street-smart mask, a flicker of awe and curiosity for a top-tier pro emerged. He quickly turned and headed for the server rack in the back room, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The glow from the screen cast unpredictable shadows on his face.

Old Chen: "Since you’re willing to bet, I’ll play along. But I have a condition. You need to get me the internal code for the next S-Tournament ticket. Otherwise, Old Chen will lock you in this hovel and let you rot."

Shen Zhiyu turned, looking Old Chen in the eye, her gaze radiating unwavering certainty.

Shen Zhiyu: "Deal. Give me thirty minutes to clean up my trail and establish a secure channel. I’ll handle the rest."

Old Chen didn’t say anything else. He just gave a heavy nod, muttered a low curse, and disappeared into the back room. Shen Zhiyu sat back down, her fingers hovering over the keyboard while her mind rapidly built tactical models. She was no longer a passive victim. She was an observer who had seized The Big Picture.

K’s madness was a double-edged sword. The more desperately he tried to shred Shen Zhiyu, the easier it would be to expose his hand. She broke down K’s Emotional Blocks. Red for aggression, gold for excitement, and that sliver of anxiety about the unknown—that was her counter-attack’s breakthrough point. She needed to create a trap in the virtual arena to make K misjudge, forcing him to reveal his core tactics prematurely.

Time ticked by. The bustle of the café was gradually walled off by Shen Zhiyu’s calm. Outside, the rumble of the first morning buses was heard, and the street began to wake up. She completed her initial tactical deployment, converting fear into precise hunting coordinates. Just as she closed her laptop, a series of urgent honks outside shattered the morning’s tranquility. Tires crunched over puddles with a *whomp*.

Old Chen’s voice came from the back, laced with palpable panic.

Old Chen: "Trouble! K just went out. His squad moved straight to the street corner, right in front of our net café’s camera! He’s identified you!"

Shen Zhiyu’s fingers paused for a beat, but the corner of her mouth slowly lifted.

Shen Zhiyu: "Let them come. It’s easier to hunt the prey that walks right into the trap."

Morning light streamed through the rain-slicked glass, distorting and shattering the view of the street outside. Shen Zhiyu didn’t stand up. She just tapped lightly on the trackpad, and a line of encrypted commands silently flowed into the depths of the Dark Web. That thread of anxiety from K’s Emotional Block grew thicker in her mind, like a taut string about to snap and point to a fatal weakness. She pulled up the real-time feed from the corner camera, watching K’s squad quickly form a perimeter. Their guns weren’t aimed at the net café’s entrance. They were locked dead on the tire tracks where she had just fled.

"He guessed my route." Shen Zhiyu murmured, her voice calm to the point of being cold.

Old Chen was breathing hard from the back room: "Cut the crap! They’re starting to bypass our screens! Your IP is being reverse-traced!"

Shen Zhiyu snapped her laptop shut. In the split second the screen went dark, a dangerous arc pulled at her mouth. She hadn’t deleted the data. Instead, she triggered a pre-set mirror trap—a dummy package loaded with misinformation and empty payloads. When K thought he’d breached the firewall, what awaited him would be an endless loop and a self-destructive feedback cycle.

"Let them break in," she stood up, adjusting her collar, the last vestige of timid evasion gone from her eyes. "After all, my team is just waiting for a new member to hand-deliver himself."