Chapter 372 - 266: From City Hero to Online Idol (Part 1)

Chapter 372: Chapter 266: From City Hero to Online Idol (Part 1)

"Because I’m excited."

"I think it’s fear."

"You!"

The War King was left speechless, and Abaddon had already launched his attack.

The second game was a complete rout.

The Twin Tower City Grand Arena had become as quiet as a library.

The War King was keenly aware that his hands were shaking, but he couldn’t control them.

’Calm down, calm down. Just like in practice. I can do this. I can win the final game...’

Amidst his frantic self-hypnosis, the final game began.

The War King assessed the map for this game. It was a high-resource map; economy would be crucial.

He planned a standard opening: build a Mine, move his base, then build another Mine to secure two resource patches.

’Just stick to the plan, and I can win. Besides, that Abaddon guy doesn’t do rush attacks...’

Just as the War King was lifting his base to move it, a small unit suddenly darted out of the fog of war.

It was a parasitic Little Devil from the Devil Camp, a unit capable of seizing control of vehicles.

Including bases in their mobile state.

Before the War King could react, the parasitic Little Devil seized control of his base.

Now, he couldn’t build any units at all.

"Just concede," Abaddon said calmly. "The outcome is decided. Let’s save some time."

...

Watching the War King’s dejected retreat from the stage, the City Lord tapped nervously on his armrest. "This War King... he’s not one of our stronger players, right?"

Grace gave him the answer he didn’t want to hear. "He has the second-highest win rate on our team. We put him up first to get a strong start and put pressure on the Devils."

But now, it seemed they had only put pressure on themselves.

"Maybe the Devils thought the same thing. Our number-two player beating their number-two player two-to-one... that’s still acceptable, right?"

However, Grace had no intention of comforting her "cloud gamer" father. "Abaddon is the worst player on the Devil team."

After a moment, the City Lord asked again, "You said our General... what was the most he could beat? One-versus-how-many?"

Grace didn’t answer.

The private box fell completely silent.

Just as Grace had implied, the next three Children of the Twin Towers who took the stage managed to win only a single game against Abaddon in total.

Their team was swept four-to-nothing by the Devil Camp’s worst player.

The crowd’s initial supportive cheers gradually faded into silence. Their last glimmer of hope was extinguished by Abaddon, game after game, until finally, the audience just started laughing at the absurdity of it all, comparing failures.

"I heard some other places got swept five-to-nothing, some even got shut out completely. At least we won two games. We’re not *that* bad."

Of course, not all the spectators were so optimistic.

Some couldn’t bear to watch anymore and left outright.

Others started yelling. "We came all the way from the outer suburbs to support you, and this is how you play? Are you even trying? F***, give us a refund!"

Amidst the growing chants of "Refund! Refund!", Leon—the final Child of the Twin Towers, whom no one held out any hope for anymore—walked to the console with his hands in his pockets.

"Even your own kind has given up on you," Abaddon taunted, now full of swagger. "How pathetic. If you beg me, I might consider letting you win a game, just so you can lose with a little dignity."

Leon was unfazed. "You’re not as good as me," he replied, "so you’re trying to distract me with words. You’re scared."

"Ha! A Devil Warrior knows no fear. Your idea is absurd."

Leon didn’t reply, simply selecting his faction and waiting for the match to begin.

How does one win back the crowd’s support?

It’s simple: give them hope.

Even if the final outcome is defeat, you have to show them the determination to fight, to give them a glimpse of victory along the way.

Do that, and the audience will give you their unconditional support.

Eight minutes later, Leon defeated Abaddon with an easy two-to-zero victory. The matches weren’t even close; it was as if they were in completely different leagues.

After his win, Leon didn’t celebrate, nor did he return to the rest area.

A five-minute break wasn’t enough to rest anyway.

This was the nature of a gauntlet match.

He faced the audience and held up one finger.

’That was the first. This is just the beginning.’

The tens of thousands of spectators erupted in cheers louder than at the opening ceremony. They had hope again.

A number of spectators who had already left heard the roar from the Arena and rushed back, wanting to see what was happening.

Unfortunately, they weren’t allowed back in and could only gather around the Demon Vision displays on the street.

Leon was truly a powerful General, displaying absolute dominance in the Arena.

Two-zero. Another two-zero. And another two-zero.

Just like the once-arrogant Abaddon, he also completed a four-player sweep against the Devils.

In fact, he took it a step further, not losing a single game and averaging only five minutes per match.

Every Devil opponent was crushed with devastating ease.

"Sweep all five! Sweep all five!"

The chants for refunds were gone, replaced by a new slogan.

The Devil General strode onto the stage with measured steps, facing the same situation Leon had faced fifty minutes ago.

"Can he win?" Even Grace couldn’t remain calm, turning to Toto, the most professional player in their private box.

"Hard to say. It’s really hard to say," Toto said, uncertain. "Maybe... maybe Leon has a slight edge. He’s in top form right now, looks like he’s completely in the zone. If he can maintain this state, he can win."

On the stage, the Devil General said to Leon, "You are a worthy opponent. But unfortunately, I must win this match—for myself, and for my comrades."

Leon did not answer.

According to the live recording Magic, Leon hadn’t said a word or moved in over half an hour, like a machine built only to play the game.

The first game began. Leon won.

However, it was a bit of a struggle, taking eight minutes.

The second game commenced. Leon won again.

But this time it took over ten minutes.

The audience, lost in their ecstatic celebration, didn’t notice anything was amiss, shouting, "Three-zero! Three-zero!"

"A pity," the Devil General said, completely unfazed despite the huge deficit. "If we weren’t the Generals, you would have already won. However... your hand is about to give out, isn’t it?"

Hearing the Devil General’s words, Leon, who had been silent for so long, finally spoke.

"It’s enough to beat you."

But both of them knew that the moment Leon replied, he had admitted to the problem with his hand.

Perhaps because he had trained too hard before, he had injured his wrist at a young age. Grace had found a Priest to heal it, but the treatment required a period of rest afterward.

He couldn’t afford to rest.

The problem had persisted to this day.

After ten games, his right wrist felt as if someone were repeatedly stabbing it with an awl.

Leon was just barely holding on.

’I’ve worked so hard for so long. I can’t fall at the final moment.’

The third game began.

Everyone could see that Leon was making more and more mistakes in his execution.

He had turned from a "machine" back into a human.

As Leon’s mistakes grew more frequent and his position worsened, the Devil General, instead of finishing him off, seemed to be intentionally leaving small openings, letting Leon think he still had a chance to turn the tables.

"Is he toying with Leon?" Grace couldn’t bear to watch. Although Leon was their General, he was only a teenager.

"Probably not toying with him. He’s being worn down by an old timer’s trick."

Zog chimed in from the side.

He never expected to see a teenager get ground down by a hundred-year-old Devil.

The whole situation was absurd.

"An old timer’s trick?"

"It’s a metaphor," Zog explained. "It means deliberately draining Leon’s stamina. The kid’s injured, so this just makes it worse. It’s all about increasing his own chances of winning the last two games."

"Despicable."

Grace cursed under her breath.

But she also knew it was a perfectly rational strategy. If a Devil had the same weakness, she would have her own players exploit it without hesitation.

The third game lasted a full fifteen minutes, only ending after the Devil General unleashed a Forbidden Technique.

With no break, the fourth game began.

Leon tried a rush attack to end it quickly, but a rush requires precise micromanagement.

He was no longer capable of it.

In this game, the Devil General was even more brutal, dragging it out for twenty minutes until Leon himself finally conceded.

The atmosphere in the Arena hit rock bottom once again.

It was a deeper despair than when they had been swept four-to-nothing.

Seeing a glimmer of hope only to have it snatched away is always more painful.

They had been on the verge of victory. A situation like this is often called the ultimate waste of effort.