TCWSITD – Chapter 26.3

Chapter 26.3 – Dog Shen You Had It Coming

Lin Jiang returned to OT—the team everyone called a “raggedy little squad.” The training room here wasn’t large, and the accommodations were far from luxurious, yet it gave him an inexplicable sense of security.

During the three years he spent as a substitute, he had told himself again and again not to break down—that there was still a chance.

During the countless days of seeing doctors, taking medication, and suffering from mild depression, he had wished over and over for a team like this—a group of people who could pull him back from the brink of despair.

He had never regretted choosing OT, because he knew exactly what he wanted.

Lin Jiang stopped in his tracks, standing at the club’s front desk. The glass display case in front of him was perfectly intact, but completely empty—only photos of the team members were placed inside.

There were group photos and individual ones.

Song Zhixu always wore that goofy grin in the team photos, beaming like a cheerful fool. From the day he joined OT, he had towered over everyone—a full head taller than Zhou Wen.

Zhou Wen had a much smaller frame, barely 1.7-meters tall, with black-framed glasses and a quiet, scholarly demeanor. He was the very picture of an introvert forcing composure.

A’Deng, on the other hand, was a bright, cheerful boy, always flashing his big white teeth, his eyes sparkling with a kind of cheerful cluelessness.

And then there was Shen Ju—who wore a perpetually annoyed “don’t touch me” expression, but was forcibly pulled into the group photo by Song Zhixu. Unable to escape,he could only pull his cap lower in frustration.

The three boys had Zhou Wen boxed in at the center of the frame—llike a pack of excitable extroverts surrounding one very confused introvert.

Lin Jiang couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

The previous mid laner’s photos seemed to have been deliberately removed. Aside from a few group shots, there was almost no trace of him.

And right in the center of the display, Lin Jiang saw his own photo.

It was taken on the day he arrived at OT. He hadn’t even set down his luggage before his new teammates swarmed him—grinning, shouting, pulling him into their orbit.

Half the faces in the photo were blurred from laughter.

He gently placed the photo back and closed the display with a soft click.

Quite a stark contrast: KUG’s case gleamed with trophies, medals, accolades. OT’s held nothing but photographs.

Staring at the empty display case, Lin Jiang had never wished so earnestly before. He wanted to take them to the world stage, to let them see it for themselves.

That night, he returned to his room, hope quietly blooming in his chest as he drifted into sleep.

His heart had never felt so peaceful and calm.

Until the next day, when he woke up and saw himself on Weibo’s trending topics.

#LinJiang’sLivestream

#ShenJuWentCrazyInTheLivestream

#ShenJuBanned300Accounts

Lin Jiang gritted his teeth. “Shen. Ju. An!”

In the training room, under Lin Jiang’s withering glare and scolding, Shen Ju behaved like a scolded puppy—all obedience, no fight.

One by one, Shen Ju removed the fans he’d blacklisted last night from the blacklist. For each account he took off, he had to say: “I was wrong.”

Lin Jiang gripped the ruler tightly and slammed it down hard on the table. Song Zhixu, Zhou Wen, and A’Deng, standing nearby, were so frightened their hearts trembled, not daring to interrupt.

How had they managed to provoke even their usually mild-mannered captain?

“Shen Ju, are you out of your mind? Apologize to the captain right now!”

But Shen Ju didn’t believe he was wrong at all. Although his mouth said, “I was wrong,” his heart stubbornly refused to admit it.

Those idiots had dared to badmouth him in front of Lin Jiang. They deserved worse than just being banned.

In his mind, Shen Ju begrudgingly unblocked those idiots from the blacklist—all while forcing out a hollow, “I was wrong.”

Seeing how “earnest” his apology was, Lin Jiang’s anger began to fade.

But then Song Zhixu glanced at Shen Ju’s expression and hurriedly tattled, “Captain, look at him! He’s not sorry at all!”

With a deafening crack, Lin Jiang slammed the ruler down again.

Shen Ju shot Song Zhixu a glare, wishing he could punch him twice.

Song Zhixu stepped back gleefully, loving the sight of Shen Ju fuming but unable to retaliate. “Captain, don’t just hit the table, hit his butt!”

Shen Ju hunched his shoulders slightly, not daring to show anger let alone speak.

Lin Jiang was starting to soften—until he remembered Shen Ju had banned three hundred of his fans’ accounts yesterday and even landed a trending topic about “going crazy.” With that, the ruler came down hard again.

“I only stepped away three times, and you banned three hundred accounts! You even used your legendary ‘five insults per second’ typing speed—on my livestream!”

Back in the day, Shen Ju had roamed the Summoner’s Rift, spewing five insults per second—unbeatable and feared by all. Yet here he was, years later, getting schooled live by Lin Jiang…

Song Zhixu couldn’t help but slam his fist on the table, laughing so hard tears welled up in his eyes.

As the saying goes: evil people get their just deserts. No lies detected!

Just as Lin Jiang was boiling with anger, Shen Ju quietly glanced up at him.

He hadn’t slept well the night before—bloodshot eyes, a faint redness beneath thin lids, looking as pitiful as a stray puppy.

Gently, he reached out and grabbed Lin Jiang’s ruler. “Captain, my hand hurts…”

Lin Jiang hadn’t even struck him with the ruler, so the pain could only be from unblocking those three hundred accounts.

“Serves you right.”

Still, Lin Jiang took Shen Ju’s hand and examined it carefully. “Does your wrist hurt? Have you been training too much lately? If you’re not feeling well, you have to tell me right away.”

His fingers were cool as they rested gently on Shen Ju’s wrist.

The pads of his fingertips brushed lightly over Shen Ju’s palm, sending an indescribable tingling sensation through him.

Shen Ju stared intently at Lin Jiang, his thoughts unreadable.

Song Zhixu, puzzled by how this mad dog had suddenly gone quiet, leaned in for a closer look—only to find Shen Ju glaring daggers straight at him.

Song Zhixu, you’re so dead.

Gulp. Song Zhixu swallowed hard.

Why did it suddenly feel like the temperature in the training room had dropped?

He quickly scooted behind Lin Jiang. “Captain, can I stick with you? I feel safer when I’m near you.”

Now that he’d escaped danger, Song Zhixu wasted no time sending a photo and a full play-by-play of the chaos to Duren. Duren, who’d been hunting for some good PR material, didn’t even hesitate—he tossed it straight onto the team’s official Weibo.

[(emoji) (emoji)

Regarding the #ShenJuBanned300Accounts incident, our team has taken strict disciplinary action! (salute)

(Image) (Image)]

Netizens clicked in out of curiosity and immediately lost it laughing.

The same Shen Ju, infamous for spewing five-insults-per-second online, was now obedient like a dog under Lin Jiang’s ruler, painstakingly unblocking each of the three hundred accounts he had blacklisted the day before.

The second photo was even funnier—Shen Ju was cautiously holding Lin Jiang’s ruler, with red-rimmed eyes and an expression as aggrieved as a puppy. He stared up at Lin Jiang like he was bracing for punishment.

It sent the internet into hysterics.

Was this really Shen Ju?

The Esports’ Crown Prince?

The same guy who spammed five-insults-per-second on stream and once got banned by the official server themselves?

For a moment, whether they were Lin Jiang fans or Shen Ju haters, everyone rushed into the comment section to join the chaos.

[Hahaha Dog Shen, you brought this upon yourself!]

[I’m reporting this with my real name: Dog Shen is absolutely not human.]

[I was one of last night’s victims! Thank you, Lord Lin Jiang, for seeking justice for me!]

[I’m a fan of Dog Shen. Please, Captain, punish him harshly! He’s not a delicate flower, so don’t go easy on him!]

[The people demand more! We love this content!]

No one expected Shen Ju to actually reply beneath these comments.

[OT_sgod: Bunch of orphans.]

The comment section exploded instantly—

[???]

[WTF WTF WTF! Dog Shen hasn’t repented at all!]

[I knew he was faking it!]

[Lord Lin Jiang, please, please don’t let him off the hook!]

[Punish him! Beat him! Whip him!—]

Less than five minutes later, Shen Ju deleted his own reply—probably after getting another scolding from the captain.

Netizens were truly dying of laughter.

Shen Ju banning 300 accounts in one night? Mildly funny, 10%

Having to unban them all himself? Legendary, 1,000%.

Trash-talking in defiance, then obediently deleting it? Priceless, 1,000,000%.

Lin Jiang’s fans were ecstatic, Shen Ju’s fans laughed hysterically, and everyone else just enjoyed the show.

So Shen Ju once again made it to the hot search: #DogShenYouHadltComing.

The massive comment section showed not a single soul sympathizing with Shen Ju. Instead, it was filled with merciless mockery, with many well-known figures in the circle joining in to take jabs.

Even Old Mao jumped in, calling out to Lin Jiang:

[Old Mao: @OT_river Bro, I hope you stay with OT forever! (bows) (please!)]

What made things even funnier was the suspicion that Shen Ju was using a burner account to trash-talk others. A screenshot of this account’s comment was posted in Lin Jiang’s section, pleading for him to discipline Shen Ju.

Shen Ju privately messaged this poster:

[XXXXX: I’ll pay you 200 if you delete your comment.]

But the poster refused to bow to mere profit and exposed the incident, confirming that the burner account belonged to Shen Ju himself.

The once-arrogant Crown Prince was now humbly begging for a comment deletion. Could anything be more hilarious?

Fans flooded Shen Ju’s comment section with jokes:

[Fans: Pay me 200, and I’ll delete my comment.]

Shen Ju replied curtly:

[OT_sgod: Get lost.]

Less than ten minutes later, he deleted his reply once more.

This wasn’t just funny anymore—it was absolutely hilarious!

Fans of other teams joined the fun, playing along and having a blast.

Thanks to all this back-and-forth, OT’s popularity skyrocketed, while KUG remained eerily silent.

[What’s KUG been up to lately?]

[Rumor has it they’re cooking up something big.]

Sure enough, KUG was busy pulling a major move—they hurriedly hired a PR team, ramped up marketing, edited videos, and worked late into the night crafting a deeply emotional piece.

The video showed KUG enduring multiple setbacks but gradually climbing back under Lin Jiang’s leadership, finally gaining recognition from everyone.

The classic moments in the video brought longtime KUG fans to tears, sparking a wave of calls for Lin Jiang’s return. Social media, official accounts, even Lin Jiang’s own comment section flooded with pleas.

But then—

Lin Jiang’s fans brutally roasted them.

[Please, KUG, just stay as far away as possible!]

[If you want better rankings, go find Alike—don’t come to us.]

[Weren’t you the ones saying Lin Jiang’s playstyle wasn’t entertaining? What’s this now?]

[I never wanted Lin Jiang to join OT before, but now I think he’s doing just fine there.]

[Now that Dog Shen isn’t a safety risk anymore, I’m perfectly happy leaving him with OT.]

Shen Ju’s fans jumped in too, keyboards blazing:

[Close the door, release Dog Shen.]

[Shen Ju: Woof! Woof! Woo woo woo!]

[Lin Jiang, don’t worry, I, Shen Ju, can trash-talk five KUG players at once.]

[So bold as to try and steal players? Watch out, Dog Shen will bite you!]

Some fans even shouted: Stop leeching off Lin Jiang.

Ever since Lin Jiang left KUG, nearly every trending topic related to KUG was somehow linked to him. This wave of nostalgic marketing backfired spectacularly, burning through the goodwill of casual fans. KUG’s own “reverse marketing” inadvertently landed them back on the trending list—but for all the wrong reasons.

This outcome left KUG’s operations team utterly baffled. Why had everyone suddenly stopped buying this tactic?

“It’s already 2023. Surely no one still thinks their marketing can dominate everything? The audience sees everything clearly—who’s right and wrong is obvious at a glance. There’s no need for marketing accounts to steer the narrative.”

Old Mao boldly spoke his mind during his livestream, dropping hints without naming names, but everyone knew exactly who he was talking about.

It’s worth noting that Old Mao had criticized many teams before, but never KUG. Even professional trolls had tacitly agreed that KUG had a “Double Crown Champion” halo. That just shows how much Lin Jiang being pushed out stirred up the crowd’s anger.

Fans praised Old Mao for his righteousness, jokingly adding: The team was a fluke—Lin Jiang’s the real deal.

At that moment, Lin Jiang knocked on the office door to discuss some matters with Duren.

Duren was so busy he hadn’t had time for lunch. It was almost 3 PM when he finally ordered a bowl of beef noodles. Between slurps, he mumbled incoherently. “Looking for a doctor? I ￥@# helped find one. Last time, &￥# Shen Ju said, he said &……￥%# to get you one, and I &%#…”[mfn]This is really how it is written in raw. Cause Manager Du is talking while slurping noodles lol[/mfn]

Lin Jiang listened for a while and finally understood, “Shen Ju asked you to help find one for me?”

Duren swallowed his noodles and wiped his brow with a tissue. “Yeah, yeah. He said you had a dedicated physiotherapist at KUG and asked if we could bring that person over. I asked around, but the doctor’s schedule was packed. I asked some other hospitals and finally found this one.”

He handed over the doctor’s business card. “Doctor Cen—he’s well known in orthopedics. He was recommended to me by the mother of my older uncle’s son’s classmate’s girlfriend.”

“I also found you a team leader, a very enthusiastic young woman who’s still in college. She’ll be coming in this afternoon to report for duty. I’ll have her escort you to the hospital for the check-up.”

Lin Jiang subconsciously grasped his wrist. His hand injury was indeed worsening, but it was not severe enough to prevent him from playing.

Suddenly, he feared that if the check-up revealed something serious, he might not be allowed to compete.

Seeing Lin Jiang’s silence, Duren thought he was dissatisfied and quickly put down his noodles. “Lin Jiang, OT might be short on some resources, but trust me, I’ll do everything I can to take care of you all.”

“Mm,” Lin Jiang said, picking up the card. “Alright, I’ll go to the hospital with Shen Ju this afternoon. As for the training…”

“I’ve already told Coach Fang; he’ll handle it. You don’t need to worry today.”

Lin Jiang nodded and went back to his seat, focusing on the tasks he hadn’t finished yet.

Beside him, Song Zhixu’s curiosity got the better of him. He wheeled his chair over and whispered, “Captain, did Old Du mention if the intern team leader is a guy or a girl?”

“Girl,” Lin Jiang replied simply.

Song Zhixu hesitated for a moment. “A girl? Is she cute?” He sneakily glanced at Lin Jiang, then leaned in close, lowering his voice. “Captain, have you ever been in a relationship with a girl?”

Lin Jiang’s fingers froze on the keyboard. He shot Song Zhixu a look. “Don’t get your hopes up. She hasn’t even graduated yet.”

Song Zhixu was so startled that he quickly explained, “No, no, captain, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just curious, really! I’m not that kind of guy—please believe me…”

Tongue-tied and panicking, Song Zhixu instinctively grabbed Lin Jiang’s arm.

It was getting warm lately, and Lin Jiang was in short sleeves. Under the cool AC, his skin felt almost icy.

He was also extremely fair—his skin pale like fine jade. Standing next to someone with an average complexion like Song Zhixu made the latter look tanned like wheat.

Feeling the heat from his own palm, Song Zhixu quickly recoiled like a spring. His voice stammered, his neck flushing red from embarrassment.

A’Deng, watching from the side, couldn’t help teasing him. “You’re blushing so hard, yet you still deny it. The captain already said the girl hasn’t even graduated yet. Stop daydreaming.”

Song Zhixu had no way to defend himself.

He snuck a glance at Lin Jiang, afraid he’d made a bad impression. “Captain, I swear, I’m really not that kind of person.”

But Lin Jiang, focused on his data recording, didn’t even look up. “Got it.”

Song Zhixu wanted to say more, but then a foot abruptly kicked him in the butt.

“Who—?”

He turned around and saw Shen Ju, backpack slung over one shoulder, staring down at him coldly.

“Get lost.”

Song Zhixu looked like he wanted to snap back, but the memory of Shen Ju’s spine-chilling glare the other day flashed through his mind. His bravado instantly vanished.

“Fine, I’ll get lost.” He left but couldn’t resist leaving a jab behind: “By the way, Shen Ju, the team leader arriving this afternoon is a girl. Try not to scare her into crying on her first day, yeah? That’d be super embarrassing.”

On any other day, Shen Ju definitely would’ve fought him over that.

He put down his backpack and saw Lin Jiang at the computer replying to Old Mao.

[Lin Jiang: Can’t play this afternoon, I have plans.]

Shen Ju’s movements paused slightly, and his heart suddenly felt a chill. “Captain… you have plans with someone this afternoon?”

“Yeah.”

For the first time, Shen Ju felt how agonizing it could be just standing next to Lin Jiang.

He lowered his head, fingers tightening slightly on his backpack strap. Under his tousled bangs, his pupils gradually dimmed, losing their color. “What time, and with who?”

“Six o’clock,” Lin Jiang looked up, “With you.”

With—who? Shen Ju blinked, thinking he must’ve misheard. “Captain, you’re meeting who?”

“You,” Lin Jiang repeated, tone casual. “Manager Du arranged for us to see a doctor. The intern team leader will take us over at 6 PM. Didn’t he tell you?”

Shen Ju’s face flushed red in an instant. He quickly lowered his head to hide his flustered expression and started rummaging through his empty backpack like his life depended on it. “No, I just found out.”

He had thought…

He’d really thought Lin Jiang had a date.

Phew—

False alarm.

— — — —

Hi, this is strawberrypoptl! As I mentioned at the end of the last chapter, this marks the beginning of the multi-part chapter uploads. This chapter ended up being 28 pages long—way more than the usual 8 pages we’ve had up until now. This will be the new norm moving forward.

Also, you might notice that each part of this chapter has a different title. That’s because the original title was just “Three-in-one chapter release for VIP access,” so I decided to pick titles myself for this chapter. Starting with the next chapter, we’ll go back to using the original titles, and all parts of a chapter will have the same title.

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