Chapter 72

Chapter 72:

Fernanda had no intention of actually having dinner with Bobby. She just needed an excuse to leave the house, and saying she was meeting him would both please Robert and spare her from unnecessary trouble.

As she exited Dawn Villas, Fernanda spotted Selma returning with bags of groceries.

Selma stepped out of a taxi at the complex gate, her face lit up with joy.

The reason was obvious—her beloved grandson was coming home, and she could barely contain her excitement.

Lost in thoughts of what dishes to prepare, Selma failed to notice Fernanda quietly slipping away through a different exit.

Fernanda paused at the entrance, weighing her options. A glance at her phone showed the location of the nearest internet café, and she headed there without hesitation.

Once inside, she picked a quiet corner, grabbed two cold beers, and launched her emulator. After linking it to her phone, she dove straight into the game to unwind.

It hadn’t even been a minute before a familiar name popped up—Fourteen was online too.

“What are the odds!” he messaged. “I just logged in, and you’re here too! We’re totally in sync.”

Fernanda smirked at the screen, already sensing his usual energy through the words.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” she typed. “Or are you back in the country?”

“Yep, I’m back,” he responded instantly. “Now we’re in the same time zone. So, when are you helping me take down those jerks from Esaham University like we talked about?”

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“Whenever you’re ready,” Fernanda replied. “But keep it civil. Don’t go calling people jerks.”

After all, she was now a student at Esaham University and didn’t like the idea of her schoolmates being labeled that way.

“Understood!” Fourteen replied, adding a cheerful emoji.

Fernanda invited him to a game, but he declined, saying he was tied up with something.

It was the first time he’d ever refused one of her invites since they’d met. Normally, if Fernanda wanted to play, he’d rearrange his whole day for it.

Still, she didn’t think much of it and jumped straight into a match.

Luck seemed to be on her side today, and she quickly found herself on a winning streak.

Logging into her main account—the one with the blank name—she saw she was still ranked second on the leaderboard, just five stars short of the top spot.

All she needed were six consecutive wins to overtake the current leader by one star and reclaim her throne.

With her schedule clear and confidence high, Fernanda was determined to make it happen.

Meanwhile, Omega Champion, the current top-ranked player, had no idea a storm was on its way.

Neal had a habit of dozing off anywhere, anytime, as long as—

There was a bed.

Last night was no exception—he’d stayed up playing games with a fan from his livestream until eight in the morning.

By the time he logged off, his eyes were so strained he was seeing double, and he finally gave in to exhaustion.

Usually, he wasn’t this intense, but this fan had been outrageously generous, showering him with tips totaling hundreds of thousands. Neal felt it was only fair to help her climb the ranks, considering his livelihood as a professional gamer.

His roommates had also tuned into his livestream and witnessed the flood of tips pouring in.

The fan, who had an adorable anime avatar, turned out to be female, which only fueled Levi’s and Alex’s relentless teasing. They wouldn’t stop joking about Neal finding himself a wealthy sponsor.

“Why waste time streaming? Just marry her already!” Levi joked. “You’ll have love, money, and success without lifting a finger.”

Alex shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s not how it works. We’re educated people; success should come through our own efforts.”

Levi smirked, giving Alex a playful pat on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you were such a man of principle, Alex.”

“Rank her up, Neal,” Alex suggested earnestly. “Make her rely on you. Sweep her off her feet with your gaming skills, marry into wealth, and boom—you’ll hit the pinnacle of life.”

Levi burst into laughter, nearly falling over.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Alex was actually serious. Was there really any meaningful difference between their ideas?

Meanwhile, Gifford, stretched out on his bed with a book in hand, rolled his eyes dramatically, silently showing his distaste for his roommates’ half-baked schemes.

Neal paid no attention to their wild schemes about how he could achieve the pinnacle of success. Instead, he pulled the blanket over himself, blocking out their chatter, and drifted off into a deep, blissful sleep.

In his slumber, an incessant buzzing, like a swarm of bees near his ears, jarred him awake with an irritating headache. Blinking groggily, he found himself staring into the overly close faces of Levi and Alex.

Reacting instinctively, Neal swung two sleepy punches, forcing his roommates to duck out of the way.

“What’s your problem?” he grumbled, sitting up with bleary eyes, his faded, yellowish hair sticking out like a lion’s mane.

Levi shoved a screen in Neal’s face. “Neal, we didn’t mean to disturb you, but we had no choice—you’ve been dethroned!”

Alex nodded so hard it looked like his head might fall off. “That second-place player is shameless! They climbed the ranks while you were sleeping, and now they’re six stars ahead.”

Neal, his vision still blurry, swiped at the screen and muttered a sharp curse under his breath.

What on earth was going on lately? His entire gaming career seemed to be unraveling. He couldn’t even manage to beat a girl in a solo match, and now his top spot on the leaderboard had been snatched away.

Without another word, he leaned back against the blanket, fired up the game, and prepared for battle.

His grogginess melted away the moment the game loaded, leaving him sharp and focused.

His opponent turned out to be none other than the anonymous second-place player who had just overtaken him.

“Ah, small world,” Neal thought grimly.

He was ready to show this rival exactly what it meant to face a true champion—and deliver a humbling taste of defeat.

Thousands of players flooded the game, eager to witness the showdown.

The platform allowed real-time spectating, and ordinary players flocked in to watch the rare clash between the top two contenders on the leaderboard.

At the internet café, Fernanda casually chewed gum, her fingers flying over the mouse and keyboard with precision.

This match was nothing like their earlier 1v1 duel. That had been a test of raw skill, but this one demanded flawless teamwork.

The match unfolded in tense silence, but it was clear to everyone—this was a battle for pride.

Usually, a match wrapped up in about twenty minutes, but this one stretched on for fifty, the tension mounting with every second.

By the end, it became a showdown of the two, each carrying their entire team on their back.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Fernanda equipped an extra defensive item, eliminated Neal’s character, and launched a final assault on their base, clinching the win.

Whistling softly, she powered down her computer, a feeling of contentment washing over her.

She had a hunch that Neal would be fuming for a long time to come.

And sure enough, Neal was so exasperated he nearly hurled his phone across the room.

It was a brutal blow to his pride.

Not only had the second-place player stolen his rank, but now he had lost to them in a real match.

This was their first genuine showdown—

And he had come out on the losing end.

Neal stared at his game display, the irony of his username, “Omega Champion,” settling heavily on him. The name now felt like an invitation for ridicule.

Levi and Alex exchanged a glance, unsure how to comfort him.

Eventually, Levi spoke.

“Neal, it’s not like your skills were lacking. He just had one extra defensive item than you.”

Alex nodded quickly.

“Exactly, it was just luck. That’s all.”

Neal didn’t respond, lost in thought.

Gifford, who had watched the entire match from start to finish, turned and walked away, muttering,

“Sometimes, you’ve got to accept that luck is part of skill.”

Levi and Alex watched Gifford’s slender, emotionless back retreating, both speechless.

Of course, they knew luck played a role. But right now, their focus was on consoling Neal.

He sat still, elbow resting on his knee, chin in his hand—frozen in deep contemplation, like a living replica of “The Thinker.”

Meanwhile, Fernanda stepped out of the internet café, the city aglow with evening lights.

She grabbed a sandwich from a nearby shop and ate as she walked home.

Expecting to hear the usual sounds of chatter and laughter, she was surprised to find the house unusually quiet.

Michelle and Selma sat in the living room, silently watching television.

Without a word, Fernanda headed upstairs to her bedroom.

As she gently opened the door, an odd feeling crept over her—

Something was off.

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