On the day of the preseason match, explosive news spread throughout the game: a team had won forty-one consecutive matches without playing a single official game.
People were discussing it everywhere. Even spectators in the mid-season viewing pool couldn't help talking about it while watching their own matches.
"This is outrageous," one viewer said in shock. "What kind of luck does that team's draw master have?"
A nearby audience member replied, "He's a newcomer with a luck stat of 100."
"What? His luck is 100?!" the first viewer exclaimed. "Why didn't one of the big guilds recruit him?"
The other person shook his head. "It's useless for big guilds. Every team competes in the mid-season tournament through fixed brackets. There's no random draw."
"And in the playoffs? Do you really think luck plays any role there?"
"That's true," the first viewer smacked his lips. "But luck is insanely useful in the preseason."
"Luck alone is meaningless," another spectator sneered. "This Wandering Circus just feels like they're taking shortcuts—bullying weak teams and coasting through the preseason."
"Once the trash teams are eliminated and they face real opponents, they'll get crushed."
Someone nearby hesitated. "But I think they're interesting. I kind of want to place a bet."
"I wouldn't," another replied contemptuously. "I'm not betting on Wandering Circus. I'd rather bet on a major guild."
He looked up enthusiastically at the massive screen in the mid-season pool. "Now this is a top-tier bloodbath."
On screen, the clown's mask was splattered with blood. He laughed wildly, raised his green sniper rifle, and pulled the trigger at the player opposite him.
[System Prompt: Congratulations to player Daniel for winning the singles match. The Deer Hunter Guild earns 1 point.]
The viewing pool fell silent for two seconds.
Then deafening cheers erupted, nearly shaking the screens.
"Clown—!!"
"Clown—!!"
Daniel, drenched in blood, stepped out from beside the screen. Blood dripped steadily from his body. The paper shell of his mask had softened from the blood; he tore it off casually and tossed it aside.
He walked a few steps—then suddenly stopped.
Turning back, he put on a polite, hypocritical smile, bowed elegantly to the crowd, removed his hat, and waved.
"I am the Clown. Please remember to support me."
His apple-green eyes curved with a smile.
"Otherwise, that corpse on the screen will be your fate."
On the display behind him, his opponent lay in a pool of blood, eyes wide open. The agony of a destroyed soul had twisted his face in death. His body was riddled with bullet holes.
He had been tortured to death.
Daniel waved lazily. "Ciao~"
Then he left the stage.
One of the spectators who had been discussing Bai Liu swallowed nervously. "He's… terrifying. I prefer gentler strategies. Like Bai Liu's lottery strategy in the preseason—it's pretty clever."
"What do you know?" another snapped excitedly. "This kind of slaughter is what makes it fun! No matter how scary the Clown is, he can't hurt you. Watching him kill others is thrilling!"
"Bai Liu is just an opportunistic coward," someone else scoffed. "Sooner or later, he'll die at the hands of a real powerhouse. When that happens, I'll bet on his opponent."
Daniel, who was walking away covered in blood, suddenly stopped.
He turned his head sharply.
In a blur too fast for the naked eye, he leapt across the viewing pool and landed directly in front of the spectator who had just spoken.
With a radiant smile, Daniel pulled out his green sniper rifle and pressed the barrel against the man's forehead.
"I thought I heard you say something bad about Bai Liu just now."
He lowered himself slowly, grass-green eyes gleaming.
"But maybe I misheard. Could you repeat that?"
The spectator trembled violently. That rifle could destroy a soul.
"I—I said Bai Liu takes advantage of situations. He's a coward. And you—you're amazing!" the man stammered, giving Daniel a shaky thumbs-up.
Daniel's smile vanished instantly.
"I hate hearing people say Bai Liu isn't good."
"He's the best."
He pulled the trigger.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The spectator screamed and collapsed beneath his chair, covering his head. After several seconds, he realized—
This was the central hall.
Players couldn't attack spectators here.
Yet in that brief moment, Daniel's killing intent had felt absolutely real.
Daniel looked at his rifle with mild annoyance. "Ah. I forgot you can't kill people in the central hall."
The spectator burst into tears. "I won't say anything about Bai Liu again! I won't! I'll bet on him! I'll bet all my points! He's the best—the best!"
Daniel slowly shifted his gaze from the gun to the man's tear-streaked face.
He smiled faintly.
"But you're not."
He raised the rifle again, eyes filled with disgust.
"You want to bet on Bai Liu? Are you worthy?"
"Bai Liu doesn't need believers like you."
Placing the gun behind his back, Daniel spoke gently, almost submissively:
"Would you mind entering the game so I can kill you properly?"
The spectator was nearly paralyzed with fear.
No one nearby dared intervene.
"Clown."
Cen Buming, president of the Deer Hunters, approached calmly. He glanced at the terrified spectator, then at Daniel.
"The doubles match is about to begin. Don't cause trouble."
The spectator looked at Cen Buming with tearful gratitude.
Daniel didn't even look at him. "I'm not playing in doubles, right? I can rush back before the team match."
He grinned at Cen Buming.
"I'll be quick."
The spectator collapsed to the ground in despair.
_________________________________________________
Meanwhile, in the Wandering Circus locker room—
"In the early preseason, we'll have it easier thanks to Du Sanying," Wang Shun said.
"But that doesn't mean we can relax. You need to monitor the mid-season tournament as well."
He opened the system panel, displaying the mid-season round-robin schedule.
"Unlike the preseason, which runs randomly across multiple locations, the mid-season has 496 matches total—16 per day—for 31 days. It ends in about a month."
"Usually, it concludes at the same time as—or even before—the preseason."
He switched to another panel showing the popularity rankings.
"In the mid-season, the popularity ranking is crucial. Most high-profile players are concentrated there."
"This is the top 300 popularity ranking table. To earn a Death-Exemption Gold Medal, you must maintain a stable position within the top 100 before the next league."
He looked at the team.
"I'm showing you this because two of you are already in the top 300."
"Liu Jiayi — Rank 267."
"Bai Liu — Rank 248."
"Oh, and thanks to Du Sanying's eye-catching drawing performance today," he added, "his ranking rose to 351."
Du Sanying blinked and pointed at himself. "Me?"
Mu Sicheng slammed the table. "What the hell?! Du Sanying made the list, but not me?!"
Wang Shun smiled helplessly. "You, Tang Erda, and Mu Ke rank near the bottom because you're inactive and lack public exposure. Especially after entering the game pool, it was like you vanished."
"Many viewers assumed you were dead."
Mu Sicheng: "…Sorry for still being alive."
Tang Erda coughed awkwardly.
Mu Ke remained calm. As an assassin, excessive attention was not desirable.
"League matches impact rankings heavily," Wang Shun continued. "Besides Du Sanying, two other newcomers had major fluctuations today."
"One is Armand from Golden Dawn. After an impressive singles performance, he rose from 681 to 302."
He looked at Bai Liu.
"The other is the Deer Hunters' Clown. He rose from 549 to 203 today… then dropped to 321."
"I want to emphasize this Clown. His rise was due to his brutal singles performance and shocking style."
A gruesome image of a distorted corpse appeared on the panel.
"This is what his opponents look like after dying."
"But that's not the main issue," Wang Shun said gravely. "Massacring opponents is common in league play. That alone wouldn't cause a ranking drop."
"He dropped because he left the field and killed a spectator during the doubles match."
Another image appeared—a player with a crushed skull.
"He forced a spectator to log into the game using a prop, logged in himself, killed him to clear the instance, then returned to catch up with the team match."
The room fell silent.
"In short," Wang Shun said tensely, "this newcomer is extremely dangerous."
"Um…" Du Sanying raised his hand weakly. "His ranking… is rising again."
Wang Shun turned sharply.
The Clown's ranking was skyrocketing from 321 back past 200.
Mu Sicheng stared. "Why is it rising again?!"
"It must be from the team match," Wang Shun said quickly. "The Deer Hunters lost doubles and had to play a team match. When I checked earlier, it wasn't finished."
"The only explanation is—"
"He won again," Bai Liu said calmly.
Wang Shun nodded. "And he was likely the MVP. Otherwise, the rebound wouldn't be this dramatic."
Mu Sicheng hesitated, then patted Bai Liu's shoulder.
"Bai Liu… am I seeing things?"
"Your ranking is rising alongside his."
_________________________________________________
Mid-season viewing pool.
[System Prompt: The Deer Hunter Guild wins the team match and earns 8 points.]
[System Prompt: Total score this game — 9 points.]
Victory usually sent the audience into a frenzy—especially when a dark horse emerged.
But this time was different.
The audience stared at the Clown with equal parts fear and excitement.
No one dared cheer.
The last spectator he killed had died not long ago.
The massive viewing pool greeted the victory in absolute silence.
Blood dripped from Daniel's body as he logged out. He removed his mask immediately and walked down the steps.
Halfway down, he stopped and turned.
The audience leaned back instinctively.
So terrifying.
Daniel suddenly laughed brightly and waved like a cheerful teenager greeting neighbors.
"Today was tough. Please remember to support me and place your bets. Thank you."
He smiled sweetly. "Oh, by the way. Anyone who hates Bai Liu doesn't need to support me."
"Because I don't need support from the dead. I'll kill you all."
He blew a lazy kiss and waved. "Ciao~"