the national sweetheart livestreamer is a pro
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Mix battleteam’s base.
Mo Huaifeng sat before the only lighted computer on the first level. After he saw the friend request he sent being rejected, the corner of his lips turned up in a not-so-attractive angle.
The yogurt bottle in his hand was contorted by now. He made a throw indifferently, and the bottle hit the mark right in the center of the trash bin.
“Yo, in a bad mood?” A young man with disheveled hair stepped out of the bathroom and took in the sight before him with squinted eyes. He blurted the question without much thought and then sauntered into the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of ice water from the refrigerator, placing one onto Mo Huaifeng’s desk.
Mo Huaifeng twisted the cap open, his Adam’s apple rolling as he drank. Swallowing two mouthfuls of ice water, he felt the frustration within him ebb slightly.
The young man, also Mix battleteam’s jungler, named Xiao yawned and peeked from the corner of his eyes at his captain’s computer. His sleepiness suddenly all washed away.
“Wow, who is this? Essentially a 10/10.”
Xiao let out a whistle facing the screen. Turning back, he noticed Mo Huaifeng peeking at him emotionlessly. He instantly realized that his captain was probably on the verge of flying into a rage with a high chance of himself becoming his captain’s punching bag.
Mo Huaifeng sneered with sarcasm. “Only you would refer to this time as early.”
“…”
It was impossible to keep up this conversation.
Xiao looked down meekly like a little girl who had been bullied.
Perhaps feeling bad, Mo Huaifeng looked at Xiao’s slightly red and swollen left wrist and frowned. “Another relapse?”
Warning terminated.
Xiao sighed and nodded. “Trained for too long yesterday. Even after spraying on some medicine, it didn’t go down, and this morning the pain woke me up.”
After those words, he frowned, looking a little dejected. “Captain, to be honest, my hand… is unlikely to hold out for long.”
“Don’t be too pessimistic.” Mo Huaifeng spoke quietly. “The physiotherapist will be dropping by this afternoon. Examine first if it is muscle fatigue.”
“Even if it was muscle fatigue, it would definitely be related to my wrist. When I first joined Mix, I could continuously play over ten hours of 5v3 games. Right now with custom matches for my own practice, I’m worn out in less than ten hours.”
Xiao stared at his wrist silently and smiled bitterly.
“Although it is normal for professional players to have a low phase, my condition has been deteriorating too quickly. It has been almost a year, and I’m already at this level.
“Previously, I kept refusing to go for a scan in the hospital because I thought that once it was confirmed that I had an injury, there would be a long period of time where I wouldn’t be able to play professionally or, even worse, never be able to compete again. Yet now, I feel that my condition has already become a burden to the team.”
Xiao’s eyes were firm. “Two years ago, Mix reassembled in preparation for the upcoming world championships. But with my situation, I will drag everyone down.”
Mo Huaifeng was equally aware of all that Xiao had just spoken about.
However, including the solo mid-laners and reserves, Mix was comprised of six people who had been with each other for more than two years and had attained a significant level of teamwork, much less the friendship they shared. Whether professionally or personally, Mo Huaifeng had always hoped to be fighting alongside his brothers for the upcoming championships.
Yet, with the situation now…
Mo Huaifeng rubbed his brows. His thin lips pressed into a straight line, seeming down in the dumps.
“I got it. Find some time to go get examined at the hospital first.”
Xiao could hear Mo Huaifeng breathe a sigh of relief, and the burden in his heart reduced by half. He murmured in some sort of agreement.