Chapter 2
Ryan kept sneaking glances at me in the rearview mirror, but when he saw I wasn't reacting at all, a flicker of frustration crossed his face.
We soon arrived at a flashy esports club. The moment we stepped inside, the deafening music and cheers hit me like a wall.
Ryan led me to a VIP box and pointed at the massive screen, his voice full of pride. "See that? Today's a friendly match between our team and our archrivals.
"Just wait and see. I'll show you what it means to be the top jungler on the server."
He was planning to use his personal advantages to win me over.
I nodded and quietly took a seat.
As the match kicked off, Ryan's team dominated the early game. The way he played his champion was flashy, and the crowd erupted in cheers.
He gave me a triumphant glance over his shoulder, as if to say, 'See? Pretty impressive, right?'
I gave him a polite smile.
Just a bunch of noobs scrapping with each other. What was so interesting about that?
But then, things took a sudden nosedive.
The enemy jungler suddenly kicked into high gear, ganking Ryan over and over, and their momentum collapsed instantly.
Ryan's face got darker by the second, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, and his plays started to fall apart.
The commentator sounded genuinely disappointed. "Man, Ryan is not himself today. That misplay was absolutely brutal."
With the enemy about to take out their base, Ryan was so pissed he almost smashed his mouse.
I finally stood up.
"Move aside," I said.
Ryan was stunned, turning to me with a confused look. "What?"
"I said, move aside. I'll handle this," I replied, my voice quiet but full of authority.
Ryan and the rest of the team in the VIP box froze.
"Evelyn, you... you know how to play this game?" Ryan stammered.
"Enough talk. Do you want to win or not?" I said.
Ryan gritted his teeth, staring at the base about to explode on the screen, and finally, he reluctantly moved aside.
I slid into the seat, slipped on the headset, and my fingers danced across the keyboard and mouse.
Time to show these brats what real skill looked like.
My pick? An off-meta assassin everyone had written off as useless, but in my hands, she darted around the battlefield like a phantom.
Dodging, predicting, unleashing skills. It all flowed together seamlessly.
One. Two. Three. The kill notifications kept popping up on the screen.
The commentators were losing their minds.
"Oh my god, who is this? That play? That awareness? She's a legend."
"Pentakill. She wiped out the whole enemy team by herself."
The whole place went dead silent for a second, then erupted into thunderous cheers.
I ignored the crowd, took control of my champion, and with the minions at my back, swept through their base in one decisive push.
The screen lit up with a massive "VICTORY."
I took off my headset, stood up, and glanced at Ryan, who remained frozen like a statue.
"We won," I said coolly.
Ryan stood there, mouth agape, bug-eyed, staring at me like he'd seen a ghost.
The teammates behind him all sucked in a breath, their looks shifting from disdain to pure awe and worship.
"Evelyn, do you need apprentices?" they blurted out.
Ryan snapped back to reality, grabbing my wrist, his eyes blazing. "Wh-who are you, really?"
I pulled my hand free and nonchalantly smoothed my sleeve. "Just a kind person who loves to help."
With that, I turned and walked off, leaving them with nothing but my swaggering back.
First target down.
*****
I'd barely stepped through the door when my phone rang. It was the second target, Liam, the legendary medical genius.
His voice was as cold and emotionless as he was. "Ms. James, there's a charity gala tomorrow night. Alexander wants me to be your date."
He wasn't asking. He was telling me.
Damn, each target was bossier than the last.
"Got it," I replied, keeping it short.
There was a brief pause on the other end. He probably hadn't expected me to be so straightforward.
"I'll have someone send over the dress," he said, then hung up.
The next evening, I arrived at the charity gala wearing the designer gown Liam had sent over.
Liam was waiting for me at the entrance, looking sharp in a perfectly tailored black suit, his eyes cold and aloof behind gold-rimmed glasses.
He spotted me, gave a subtle nod, and then led me straight into the venue.
"Tonight's goal is to make sure the media sees us looking close," he murmured, like he was assigning a task.
He was so emotionless, like a robot.
I played along and nodded. "Got it."