Chapter 73 - 1v1 Against Amanda

Ruby and I watched her step out into the night and vanish into her tinted SUV.

"That wasn’t an offer," Ruby whispered beside me, her hand sliding into mine, her grip tight. "That was a warning."

"I know," I replied, my eyes narrowing into two slashes of dark ice as I finished my glass. "Quin knows they can’t buy us out, and they know they can’t drown us out on the charts anymore. They’re planning something desperate."

"Let them try," Ruby said, a slow, dangerous smirk returning to her lips as the heavy bass of her track echoed through the estate. "We’re ready."

"Get back to your guests," I murmured, giving her waist a firm, reassuring squeeze. "I have something to do."

---

I walked into my private gaming lounge, the quiet hum of liquid-cooled rigs filling the dimly lit room. The clock on my console displayed 3:00 AM.

I checked my friends list, and to my surprise, Amanda was still logged in. She had already set up a fresh smurf account—and the tag was sitting at a staggering level 15. The girl had literally been grinding nonstop since the moment I stepped out of her apartment.

A part of me wanted to tell her to go to sleep, but her relentless drive was exactly why she had S-rank potential.

I sent her a direct invite, and our voice comms connected instantly.

"OMG, where have you been?!" Amanda’s voice burst through my headset, crisp and clear through her new high-end mic. The timid, flustered girl from earlier was completely gone, replaced entirely by her hyperactive, confident gamer persona. "I’ve been waiting for ages! Look at the tag, investor—level 15 already! I told you I don’t mess around once the gear is right!"

I leaned back in my ergonomic leather chair, adjusting my headset with a dry, dangerous smirk.

"Not bad for a few hours," I drawled into the mic, my tone calm and completely unbothered. "Enjoy the flex while it lasts."

"Flex? It’s not a flex, it’s a warning!" she laughed, her keys already clicking in a high-APM rhythmic pattern in the background. "You better not lag out and use it as an excuse when I wipe the floor with you."

Even though my mechanical hours on this specific title were still lower compared to an S-rank veteran like her, losing wasn’t in my itinerary tonight. I had superior hardware, pure strategic dominance, and zero intention of letting my newly funded prodigy hold a victory over my head on day one.

"Talk is cheap, Luna," I said, setting the custom parameters and locking down the map settings.

I hit the button, and the lobby loaded us straight into the 1v1 arena.

The map loaded, casting a cold, blue light across my monitors. On screen, her level 15 avatar was already pulling off lightning-fast weapon swaps and high-APM movement tech, practically dancing in the spawn zone.

"Okay, wait—are you... are you actually wearing a suit right now?!" Amanda gasped through the headset, her voice crackling as she saw my stream feed. "Who plays a high-stakes 1v1 in a tailored suit at three in the morning?! Wait, no—don’t tell me... did you just come straight from hanging out with Ruby?!"

She went quiet for a split second, her own words catching in her throat as the realization hit her, and her tone instantly flipped into that flustered, hyper-self-conscious pattern.

"I mean—not that I’m asking! Or caring! It’s totally fine, obviously! You’re an investor, you do investor stuff!" she babbled rapidly, her keys clicking twice as fast out of pure nervous energy. "I just assumed you’d change into sweatpants or something like a normal person! But whatever! Don’t think wearing expensive clothes gives you extra hitpoints, Ethan! I’m about to ruin your whole career!"

I didn’t break character for a single second. I slowly adjusted my grip on the mouse, my face cool and unbothered as I watched her character advance through the central corridor.

"Focus, Luna," I said, my baritone voice smooth and dangerous over the comms. "You’re overthinking. And overthinking gets you killed."

"I am not overthinking!" she squeaked out, her avatar sliding around a corner with lethal speed. "I’m literally about to headshot you in—wait, where are you?!"

She had the raw mechanical skill, but I had absolute tactical awareness. Anticipating her hyper-aggressive push, I had already baited her into a tight choke point, holding an off-angle with a high-damage rifle.

Crack.

The headshot marker flashed bright red across my screen.

[FIRST BLOOD: Ethan]

Silence fell over the voice call for three full seconds.

"Wait... what?!" Amanda squealed, her jaw practically dropping through the microphone. "How did you... you’re a noob! You’re supposed to be a noob! Did you just predict my pathing?! No, stop, that was a fluke! A total fluke! Go again right now!"

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a low, amused smirk as the round reset. "Round two. Let’s see if you can back up all that talk."

The round reset, and the light on my screens shifted as we loaded into the next zone. Amanda didn’t utter a single word this time. The flustered bickering completely vanished, replaced by the terrifying, deafening silence of a true S-rank player fully locking into hyper-focus.

The change in her playstyle was instantaneous and brutal.

She didn’t push aggressively or give away her position with flashy movement tech like before. Instead, she moved with terrifying precision, reading every corner, slicing through my line of sight before I could even settle my crosshairs.

Crack.

[HEADSHOT: Luna_Sky]

Before I could even adjust my tactical positioning for the third round, her avatar was already three steps ahead of my spawn prediction. She pre-fired the exact angle as I stepped out, catching me in a seamless, high-APM spawn trap.

Crack.

[VICTORY: Luna_Sky]

I re-spawned, tried to flank through the lower corridor using a tight off-angle, but she had the entire map layout etched into her muscle memory. The moment my footstep audio registered, a flash grenade blinded my vision, followed by a swift, lethal spray of headshots.

[VICTORY: Luna_Sky]

Her raw mechanics were absurd—far surpassing anything a casual or even high-tier player could pull off. She was executing pixel-perfect wall-peeks and instant headshots before my reaction time could even register her model on screen.

Silence hung over the voice comms, save for the rhythmic, blistering sound of her custom mechanical keyboard clicking at lightning speed in the background. She was completely in the zone, zeroed in, treating me not like an investor or a friend, but like an enemy boss that needed to be systematically dismantled.

I rested my chin on my hand, looking at the defeat banner on my screen with a slow, dangerous smirk.

"Alright, Luna." I murmured into the mic, my voice calm and unbothered despite being boxed into a total lockdown. "Now you’re playing like that setup was worth it."