Chapter 2

To be honest, I’m not sure how my little account has become so well-known.

Sky Force was released six years ago by a Japanese game company called ‘Rhoha.’ Its computer-generated imagery (CGI) is breathtaking. Sky Force features stunning and figurative artworks, an infinite fictional world, and intricate control panels. This game, as everyone can see, is the hen that can lay tons of golden eggs, but Rhoha rejects. They require the techniques rather than expanding their business to make more money from those players.

The only way you can get a higher rank is by playing better than the others. Money is nonsense, so we have dozens of poor gamers playing the Sky Force. And if you can create a record of winning at least ten thousand matches consecutively, you will receive a special prize, which—according to the company—can change your life forever.

But I wasn’t interested in playing video games or even believed in their dreamlike advertisements.

The-twelve-year-old me was concerned about his wealthy friend instead. It was more interesting. Let’s think about this topic. What would you do if you were me, discovering that your beggar-like friend was a rich kid? The billionaire one? I bet you would not differ from me then.

Okay, though he is just a side character, but it’s better calling my friend by his name, right? His name is Long, and you know how to pronounce that as simply as the way you eat a cake, too. But here is a notice, when you are considering this word as an adjective, it’s actually a noun in Vietnamese, meaning ‘Dragon’. In some ways, that name fits him like a miracle.

According to billionaire love books, I don’t know if this guy had any substitute girlfriend or hidden fiancee, but Long actually lives in his damn fancy mansion, without his parents, owning an extremely tremendous fortune from his childbirth. The adults surrounding him were all his workers, led by an old butler, like what people usually write about rich kids’ lives. Long’s life was boring since he didn’t know what to do with his wealth, to the point where he didn’t care about his money, but just wanted a friend.

And how coincidental it was, my life was damn boring since I didn’t know what to do with my poverty too. I was really interested in money and I also needed a friend, especially a rich one!

Then I wanted to be this prosperous individual’s friend.

That wealthy kid asked me to create an account on ‘Sky Force’, telling me that the nonprofit game would give us equality.

I sincerely appreciate his thoughts.

However, I became a legend of this game after years, while that rich kid turned into a legendary feeder: losing for about one thousand matches, consecutively, and getting notorious all over the world.

Poor you, my rich child.

Oh, my computer starts. I put the glass aside, holding the obsolete computer mouse, preparing for a battle.

But I forget one thing, that I am damn well known in this community. And as a result, at the moment my account turns from ‘offline’ to ‘online’ after nearly a year, my computer just simply… explodes.

Invitations, messages, challenges and tons of things that I don’t know possess my screen. I can’t look at them even for a moment, because the freezing speed of the screen is faster. It flashes twice before turning off and restarting itself because of the overload. This stressful process repeats three times in a row, and when I am afraid that my fame will end this computer’s life, the old device shows me how strong it is: turning back to the normal state and deleting all the things that filled the screen.

I probably recognize who sent all this mess to me. Since ‘Leo Pavilion’ turned out to be the king here, it’s likely that those messages are from my dear opponents all over the world who wanted to win my title. Even some of them showed me their extreme attitude: scolding me to make me accept the dare.

And like other champions, I was furious, and I decided to… neglect them all.

That’s it.

In this age, where all the people log in to the internet every day—yelling at someone and then getting cursed back—who will care about those little words? Just think about something greater, like some idiot.

I click on the category ‘Streamers’ on the dashboard, the only section allowing you to earn money on Sky Force, then search for my opponent. My billionaire friend earlier told me that this dunderhead is quite popular here, so I think it’s easy to find the ‘target’.

“Guys, welcome back to Leo Killer’s channel.” A sudden, loud voice scares me through the speaker. For heaven’s sake, my weak heart did nearly jump out of my chest after that tone. I look back, seeing a face-hidden guy shouting at his audiences like hell with the incredibly familiar tone, “Today I will show you some key skills in conquering the eighth map, the Uranus.”

Leo… Killer? Me? What has ‘Leo Pavilion’ done to cause that animosity? I turned off the computer for at least six months consecutively, didn’t I?  

Then I click back to unlock my ‘room’, the personal place where I put all my fighting jets, medals, and weapons in. About the correct number, because of my mother’s slippers, I have played little games, so I just have about one hundred fighting jets, almost three thousand weapons, and innumerable amounts of components to create a spaceship—which I collected from all over this virtual universe.

About two years ago, Sky Force released a function allowing their players to make their own spaceships. Then, according to the power, the producers arranged those ships in level, from One to Seven.

I also put all those parts together to make up a battleship too, naming it ‘Hurricane’, hoping it would get marked a number. But, how painful it is, my cute spaceship gained nothing for no reason.

Using Hurricane is just my love toward my ‘virtual son’, but after activating the jet, I realize it might not be the choice. Because right at the moment the jet is ready, something explodes, and my dunderhead friend shouts.

“Boom!”

“What the hell is firing at me?” My poor target shouts out in shock. He is eating a snack while streaming. I know it, I am watching his show now. So when his jet got damaged in the wing and his controlling screen turned red, he was shocked and coughed like hell. The food may get stuck inside his throat.

You might not believe this, but… I don’t mean to shoot him now, I swear.

The Hurricane is too fast!!!

I remember that its speed was much slower! I set my ‘room’ on the virtual Earth, so why does it just take me three seconds to arrive at Uranus now? Updated version…

What the hell? Why don’t I know Rhoha releases the updated version???

Right after the accident, I control the Hurricane to turn back, quietly. I don’t know why my ‘son’ is damn powerful, but it’s still unacceptable to defeat someone with a missile while your opponent is just holding a knife. It’s not the thing that a human should do. I’d better get back to the ‘room’, putting the missile back and picking another knife!

However, not everyone needs an equal battle. When I shoot the dunderhead unintentionally, a message appears on the screen when Mr. Dunderhead is fixing the damage, like a can of oil poured into the fierce fire.

“DAMN! LEO PAVILION!!! HE IS LEO PAVILION!!!” Yeah, capital letters.

My heart races when the capital letters from someone keep showing up on the streaming screen. Oh well, though those words show me a fierce admiration, I find it uncomfortable seeing this writing style…

“I KNOW THIS SPACESHIP! THE UNMARKED HURRICANE!”

“I SWEAR ON MY HONOR! GUYS, COME AND ATTACK HIM BEFORE HE RUNS AWAY AGAIN!”

But it’s the crucial part there.

When I don’t want to fight with him anymore, I see my poor dunderhead friend standing in my way by letting his spaceship stop in front of mine. And with all his cute innocence and respectful bravery, he types a sentence on my screen by the voice.

“I challenge you to a duel, legend.”

I won’t tell you I’m over the moon now.

“Not so good, dude.” Looking at the newly discovered data from Hurricane, I respond with a splendid smile, “All-in is better.”

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