Chapter Fourteen: The Great Dragon of the Internet, Ready for Action!

“Does this gear even stand a chance in battle?”

Outside the screen.

Zero stared at Luo Ji’s equipment, his mind racing wildly.

Nofe, watching alongside him, also widened his eyes. He clearly remembered that this guy didn’t play like this during regular training.

Yet...

After a brief shock, they both began to see some sense in this gear choice.

First, the lane was stable enough to avoid being solo-killed. Second, even Doinb’s Ryze wasn’t something to fear now. Even if LNG’s three-man trio isolated him, the combination of their two AP champions required precise skill synergy, and their composition was vulnerable to Gwen’s manipulation.

As for last-hitting?

That didn’t matter much. The gold from the two kills was already a huge gain. From here on, as long as he didn’t die or give up experience, once the bottom lane’s Caitlyn system kicked in, the rhythm would follow.

Looking at it this way,

this guy’s macro awareness even took these details into account?

“Damn, an armor penetration build?!”

“No doubt. He’s called Mobius after all. Giants aren’t just about high offense; having high defense makes perfect sense too.”

“Doinb: Damn, this build feels like it’s aimed straight at me.”

“A substitute’s attack—that’s definitely a substitute’s attack!”

Luo Ji’s itemization didn’t just shock the audience and coaches; even Doinb on the stage felt it. Given his playstyle, even when he played Ryze, he favored a tanky mage build for a margin of error.

But now...

If he stuck to the tanky mage build, he could already foresee Gwen’s future in teamfights—it would be like a swimming dragon, elusive and uncontrollable.

If he didn’t build that way, the margin for error would be low, and given his current form, he might end up making ridiculous mistakes.

Doinb thought carefully.

Whatever.

As the saying goes, “Better a dead comrade than a dying hermit.” Even if the sky fell later, there’d be a tall guy to catch the fall. After all, the big boss wasn’t his responsibility.

As the saying goes, “When it rains, it pours.”

Shortly after the top lane exchange where one died for two, in the bottom lane, PPGOD’s Lux seized an opportunity in front of the turret, landing her Q skill—Light Binding—on the Lantern King Jinx.

The key wasn’t this.

The key was that Karsa’s Troll was nearby.

Thus,

V5’s Photic killed LNG’s Light.

The turtle shell was cracked open.

“Damn, impressive!”

“Brothers, push harder! Let’s break through their defenses completely.”

“I’ll be the hype man!!!”

Seeing the kill notification in the bottom lane, Luo Ji, who was getting pummeled top, immediately brightened. Though his equipment advantage couldn’t change his lane disadvantage, his teammates’ advantage could sway the momentum.

No choice, top lane was like this.

Early game meant either dominating the solo lane, occasionally supporting teammates, or constantly crying for help—otherwise, it was like playing solo, only providing emotional support for others.

Unfortunately,

Xiao Yan in the bottom lane felt a bit uneasy hearing Luo Ji’s awkward hype.

“Stop hyping.”

“Bro, seriously, stop it.”

“You got two kills, I got one—if anyone deserves hype, it should be me.”

He didn’t expect LNG’s bottom lane turtle shell to be so tough. Last season, the Lantern King’s performance was average, but this season, he seemed much stronger.

But it didn’t matter.

In pro matches, any factor could greatly influence the game, especially in the bottom lane’s two-on-two. If one side’s laner could pull ahead by over 500 gold,

that was outright domination.

Though now it was only 300.

Still...

This wave of kills made him vaguely sense a beast awakening inside.

Awakened!

With advantages appearing both top and bottom, the mid lane was free of roaming pressure, allowing Rookie to focus fully on suppressing Doinb. This year’s Rookie wasn’t the later S15 version; he had endured the whole year of warrior mid meta in S11.

At the turning point where mage versions returned in the German Cup,

his fighting spirit, meta understanding, and form all showed signs of a near-peak state.

Exactly.

When evaluating a player, you can’t just look at their immediate future performance. Many players’ prime seasons are short, like men’s prime—sometimes intermittent, like someone with kidney issues. It could be only six months, a year, a few months, or even just a few games in a best-of-five series with Aatrox.

But when they’re in their prime, they’re the brightest stars.

Doinb was completely overwhelmed by Rookie.

His opponent’s form kept improving. With roaming threats—an armor penetration Antun top and a disruptive Hongxing bottom—where the hell could he go?

Feign ignorance.

This thought lingered until more than seven minutes in, when V5’s bottom lane actively rotated.

The Caitlyn system, with Rift Herald as the core, was key. Without the ability to replicate Xiao Yan’s peak triple-step approach, external forces were necessary to push the pace.

Like middle-aged people,

sometimes you need to take zinc gluconate tablets to boost your energy.

This isn’t admitting defeat; people prefer to call it “supportive maintenance.”

So the question was,

facing V5’s Rift Herald rhythm, would LNG choose to respond or not?

Definitely not.

Jinx’s growth was already slow. In the current mythic item patch, a Jinx building hurricane needed four items for real damage. If she built Kraken Slayer, three items sufficed, but survival in V5’s lineup was a concern.

Ryze was even less likely.

Doinb preferred tanky mage builds. Both carries lacked early damage. What teamfight could they engage in?

Let AKL dash in and solo five?

“The tempo’s smooth.”

“Indeed. Ultimately, it’s because my Mobius handles pressure well. Sometimes I even wonder how he’s a rookie. Or maybe the team’s gunner really is that good at mentoring rookies?”

Behind the scenes,

Nofe and Zero had been praising non-stop since the start.

A rookie top laner with strong macro awareness, tactical listening, and calm-headedness might not attract as many fans as aggressive players like Bin, Ale, or TheShy.

But in professional play,

offense wins the crowd, defense wins the championship.

This has always been true in most competitions.

With Rift Herald’s help, V5’s Caitlyn triple-step strategy finally achieved the expected tactical results—lane pressure to chip towers and confirm advantage, rotations to secure resources, and accumulated pressure on enemy turrets and jungle.

This operation worked well when Caitlyn rotated to push both side lanes.

But at the final mid-tier tower, a problem arose.

Ryze’s wave clear was too fast.

So fast, in fact, that Caitlyn struggled to push mid quickly. Meanwhile, LNG’s Jinx already had cannon form, capable of rapid wave clear. This forced V5’s mid push to wait for the second Rift Herald or to group mid.

“Just have to wait,” PPGOD sighed.

The sudden halt in momentum left V5 powerless.

Ryze plus Jinx mid had an alarmingly fast wave clear.

At this moment, V5’s lineup weaknesses showed. They lacked strong engage options, relying mostly on Lux’s Q for chance plays or Troll and Gwen’s frontline duels.

Like an awkward older nerd on a blind date, they had reserves, but what they gave away depended entirely on the opponent’s generosity.

Faced with PPGOD’s frustration, Luo Ji felt no great pressure.

Mainly, he wasn’t responsible for calling shots, and his lane wasn’t too bad. With magic resistance boots and Spirit Visage, his survival was temporarily secured.

He was saving up for Rift Maker.

A sacrificial role top lane, surviving early was already a success. But to perform well, some damage output was needed.

After all, their lineup’s weakness was glaring.

Aside from chance plays, their only way in was frontal assault or flanking in teamfights.

Either way, their opportunities to reach the enemy backline would be limited. In other words, they had only one chance to deliver damage to the enemy backline.

If they built full tank, damage would be insufficient.

He thought this through.

Using the few minutes’ lull, both teams furiously farmed, preparing for the second Rift Herald spawn.

But...

At the moment the second Rift Herald was about to spawn—when Karsa was warding for PPGOD’s Lux—

mid lane.

Rookie’s Azir suddenly came under fierce focus from LNG’s top and support.

Thresh flashed forward while throwing his lantern back.

From afar,

Ale stealthily returned mid and immediately grabbed the lantern.

AKL’s appearance was too weird!

No one expected that, even with Zhao Xin’s position revealed away from mid, LNG’s secret weapon was AKL returning from the side lane.

Rookie frowned and instinctively tried to reposition Azir to escape.

However...

Coincidentally, the LPL’s legendary story was triggered.

From Season 3 through late Season 11, countless player memes and legends emerged in the LPL. Rookie, a veteran since Season 6, naturally had his own legend:

“The Wall-Hugging Song Yijin.”

(Annotation: You can always trust Rookie, unless he’s standing by a wall.)

Ironically,

this time, Azir was right at the edge of the wall.

As a result,

the combo failed.

As Azir tried to gracefully escape, he suddenly collided with the wall, causing a one-sided mishap.

Almost visibly, every LNG player’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Doinb, equally honored, immediately used his ultimate to teleport in, cutting off all Azir’s flash escape paths.

A coordinated combo was unleashed, and Rookie could only helplessly concede his life.

LNG’s Ale killed V5’s Rookie.

“Damn, Ale!”

“How many times have I said, don’t trust the wall-hugging Song Yijin? Don’t trust him!”

“Unbelievable that Ale pulled off that support play—it’s like magic.”

“Those who haven’t watched many matches just don’t get it. Ale’s always like this, always saving teammates from disaster. How they got into disaster, don’t ask. How disaster started, don’t care. He just saves.”

The sudden four-on-five in the objective fight halted V5’s hard-earned momentum abruptly.

Luo Ji, quicker than Rookie, spoke up, taking responsibility for the mishap.

Though Rookie made the mechanical error,

failing to call out AKL’s mid presence was Luo Ji’s fault. Perhaps due to limited match experience and his gear’s survivability, he pushed the lane too deep.

He didn’t see AKL and assumed the enemy was baiting him in for a deeper push.

Unexpectedly, AKL had slipped mid to find an opportunity.

“No, this one’s on me. Mainly my misplay,” Rookie admitted.

He was a seasoned pro, not the type to refuse blame. Both sides took fifty-fifty responsibility. But the key was whether they could follow up on this Rift Herald push.

“What if we just give up the Herald?” PPGOD sounded uncertain.

“No way. Without this Herald, the Caitlyn system’s push slows. If we can’t open a clear gap, our lineup gets harder to play as the game progresses,” Karsa corrected.

After hearing them, Luo Ji cut in decisively:

“Then we take it!”

“There’s a saying: the big brother sets the maximum potential of the slackers, but slackers themselves have no minimum.”

“We’re missing the big brother this fight, so our ceiling is lower—no huge wins, just medium or small—but our floor is high. At this stage, KaGe and I can soak quite a bit of damage, and with AKL’s ultimate down, Caitlyn’s survival chance is much higher.”

“This fight is winnable!”

Though a bit forced,

this firm decision unified V5’s internal consensus instantly.

PPGOD and Xiao Yan responded enthusiastically.

Karsa was slightly stunned. Fresh from TES, he wasn’t used to such decisive team calls.

But soon, enjoying the different atmosphere, a smile curved his lips.

Exactly.

So right!

This was exactly the feeling he craved—

mostly calm and composed, but at critical moments, someone could make a bold call and charge together, igniting a fiery spirit that seemed to boil the blood.

Even on the pro stage,

being outnumbered wasn’t rare. The key was whether everyone could pull together.

Xiao Yan as AD just went with the flow; PPGOD lacked guts; if Karsa had the courage, he wouldn’t have been saddled with memes about Jarvan and Gnar in TES; Rookie was known as the nice guy.

V5’s communication issues had been glaringly obvious in playoffs.

Back then,

their fifth player was a Korean import.

Even with guts, language barriers delayed or limited communication.

But Luo Ji?

Not only did he speak fluent Chinese, he spoke it beautifully. Regardless of whether they won, he’d say: when an opportunity arises, just hit it first!

Throw the first punch, then ask questions later!

From a god’s-eye view,

Tong Xi, noticing the movements of V5’s four players, uttered a soft “huh.” With her pro caster’s insight and experience watching dozens or hundreds of matches, she initially thought V5 would give up the second Rift Herald. At worst, their push speed would slow.

The advantage was still clearly in V5’s hands, but they had no intention to concede.

Most LPL viewers were male, and men share a notable trait:

Among five people, one is a schemer; among ten, one is a sage; among a hundred, everyone turns into a reckless brawler.

Now,

watching V5’s four-man group gradually losing their “lychee” energy,

a genuine sense of approval quietly bloomed in everyone’s hearts.

This decisiveness truly impressed them.

Or perhaps...

this was the real, bona fide Big V Sky Dragon!!!