Chapter Three: Dedicated Night Shift
Won?
Chen Guo was instantly stunned. The words "Glory" flashing was the iconic winning symbol of the arena, equivalent to "K.O."
But how long had it been since she walked away and came back? Forty seconds? Fifty seconds? Chen Guo glanced at her watch—it was definitely less than a minute. And what happened? The opponent she had lost 52 consecutive matches to was just "Glorified" by this person in less than a minute?
Chen Guo even forgot to rush up and reclaim her account. She hoped this person would play another match so she could watch carefully, but instead, she saw him expertly log out of the game. He stretched lazily, as if he weren’t too interested in the computer, and started looking around. As he turned his head, he caught sight of Chen Guo staring at him with wide eyes and hurriedly explained, “You didn’t log out of the game, so when I sat down, the battle had already started. I helped you win. Don’t worry!”
“How long did it take?” Chen Guo asked.
“A little over forty seconds!” Ye Xiu said.
Chen Guo’s mouth fell open, yet the other person said with a hint of regret, “My hands were frozen stiff. Otherwise, thirty seconds would’ve been enough.”
Thirty seconds… to defeat an opponent she couldn’t beat in 52 matches. What kind of person was this?
Could it be a professional player from the Jiashi team? Chen Guo suddenly thought. She knew the Jiashi Club wasn’t too far from her internet café. But then she reconsidered—she would recognize someone from Jiashi! Unless this person was that hidden expert, Ye Qiu.
Ye Qiu! The thought of this name excited Chen Guo, but knowing this expert was always low-key, she realized that if she confronted him directly, he would likely deny it. After hesitating for a moment, Chen Guo suddenly remembered something and dashed back to the front desk.
“The guest at C-area, machine 47—what name did they register under?” Chen Guo asked the cashier girl.
“Ye Xiu,” the girl said.
“Ye Xiu… Ye Qiu? I knew it!” Chen Guo was thrilled. To her, this was like a case of “the guilty giving themselves away.” It only proved that this person was Ye Qiu—if he had actually written “Ye Qiu,” she wouldn’t have believed it!
“Hehehe…” Chen Guo’s smile was practically devious. She was already planning to gather anything she could find for this person to sign. Ye Qiu’s signature! Who had it? No one!
Just as she was thinking, the cashier casually added, “He even forgot his ID card here.”
“ID card?” Chen Guo was taken aback, only then realizing she’d been too excited to think straight. Internet café registration required real-name verification, so an ID was mandatory. No one could use a fake name to register.
“The ID card? Let me see.” Chen Guo took the ID from the cashier, and sure enough, it clearly read “Ye Xiu.” Disappointment washed over her, and she felt a strong urge to change the character “Xiu” to “Qiu.”
Upon learning this person wasn’t the low-key expert she’d long admired, her curiosity about his skill remained, but her interest had already dropped by half. Chen Guo reluctantly returned to C-area, machine 47, and handed Ye Xiu’s ID back. “You forgot your ID card.”
“Oh, thanks,” Ye Xiu quickly took it back. “Are you from the internet café?”
“Yeah, I’m the owner.”
“Oh? The owner? Perfect. I just saw on your café’s website that you’re hiring an internet café manager, right?” Ye Xiu asked.
“Uh… yes…” Chen Guo didn’t expect this sudden turn. She’d been thinking about how to get this person to duel her, and this was a convenient excuse.
“I checked, and I think I meet all the conditions. I’m fine with the work and pay. How about it? Consider me, boss,” Ye Xiu said.
“Oh, well, you’d have to beat me in a Glory solo match first,” Chen Guo said.
“What? Is that a rule?” Ye Xiu turned to check.
“Don’t bother looking. I just added it,” Chen Gluo said.
Ye Xiu was momentarily stunned, then realized his previous victory had been too professional, and this beautiful boss was now curious about his skills. Unfortunately… Ye Xiu smiled wryly and shook his head. “I can’t beat you.”
“Why?” Chen Guo was puzzled.
“Because I don’t have an account that can beat you,” Ye Xiu said.
“An account… What level is your account? What equipment do you have?” Chen Guo asked.
“No level, no equipment,” Ye Xiu said.
“Seriously?” Chen Guo found it hard to believe. Someone who could defeat a strong opponent she couldn’t beat in over forty seconds only had a new, levelless account? How did they even train that level of skill?
“My old account was given away,” Ye Xiu could only say.
“Oh, I see… That’s generous of you,” Chen Guo sighed. With such strong skills, this person’s account must be impressive too. A powerful account was quite valuable, so giving it away so casually was truly bold.
“Yeah, too generous,” Ye Xiu said with a wry smile. The account he’d handed over was the God of Battle, One Leaf Autumn, and describing it as merely “generous” was an understatement.
“Are you planning to play in the new server?” Chen Guo asked.
“New server?” Ye Xiu was taken aback. He glanced at today’s date and suddenly understood.
Tomorrow was the tenth anniversary of Glory’s operation. Starting from the second anniversary, Glory had opened a new server every year at midnight on the anniversary day. Sales of the tenth-edition account cards had begun three months ago. Veteran players dissatisfied with old servers and newcomers preparing to enter Glory had all prepared their new server accounts, eagerly awaiting this day.
The current opening would be the tenth server of Glory. Thinking back, One Leaf Autumn was an account from the first server of Glory. Later, during the fifth chapter update, “Realm of the Gods,” he had met the standards alongside many other experts, completed the skill challenge, and became one of the first players and accounts to gain access to the public map, Realm of the Gods.
Now, One Leaf Autumn had changed owners, and his Glory career had come to an end. Yet, he happened to coincide with the annual new server opening. Ye Xiu’s thoughts were stirred, and a decade’s worth of memories suddenly surged to the forefront.
“A new server?” Ye Xiu murmured to himself.
“I remember that before the new server opens, you can apply for a server transfer, right?” Ye Xiu suddenly asked Chen Guo.
“Only level-one empty accounts can,” Chen Guo said.
“Then let me try,” Ye Xiu said, pulling an account card from his pocket and swiftly entering the Glory server transfer application page. Chen Guo looked at the account card in surprise. “Is this a first-edition card?”
“Yes, it’s a first-edition card,” Ye Xiu smiled. Glory’s account cards were released annually, and a first-edition card was nearly ten years old by now.
Chen Guo looked at Ye Xiu, astonished. “How many years have you been playing Glory?” Cards were inanimate, but people were living. The card might be ten years old, but the person might not necessarily be.
“Almost ten years,” Ye Xiu replied, confirming that he and the card were one and the same.
Chen Guo felt quite experienced with five years of gaming under her belt, but she never expected the guy in front of her to have double that amount. Ten years—that would make him one of the first batch of Glory players. To keep playing until now and still have the enthusiasm to join a new server... what kind of spirit was that?
While she was talking, the screen displayed “Server transfer complete.”
“It’s done.” Ye Xiu pulled out the account card, holding it in his hand, and instantly recalled all the memories tied to this first-edition card.
“You mentioned you wanted to be a front desk clerk?” Chen Guo brought it up again from the side.
“Yes.” Ye Xiu snapped back to reality from his reminiscing.
“Which shift are you looking at?” Chen Guo asked.
“The night shift one.” Ye Xiu replied.
“Oh, are you up for it?” Chen Guo was surprised. The night shift was from 11 PM to 7 AM every day, with a monthly salary 300 bucks more than the others, but very few applied for it. After all, most people weren’t keen on the constant reversal of day and night, so at Chen Guo’s place, everyone currently took turns. If someone actually applied for this full-time night shift, it would really take the load off everyone else.
“I can handle it. I prefer working at night.” Ye Xiu said.
Chen Guo studied the person in front of her carefully. His hair and beard looked like they hadn’t been tended to for at least half a month, his face slightly bloated, pale but with a sickly pallor. His eyes were fixed on her, looking a bit listless. She’d seen this look many times—it was often the same for the young guys who frequently pulled all-nighters at her internet cafe. But this guy was clearly not young, yet he still looked so disheveled. Disgusting.
Disgust aside, Chen Guo still welcomed anyone willing to take the full-time night owl shift. Moreover, she was curious about the skills of someone with ten years of gaming experience, so she immediately made the decision: “Alright, you’re hired.”
“Thank you, boss.”
“You’ve seen the terms, right? We’ll go by those.” Chen Guo said.
“No problem.”
“Good then, follow me!” Chen Guo was efficient. Once she hired Ye Xiu, she immediately started treating him like an employee. She directed him to move a pile of new keyboards that had arrived but hadn’t been sorted yet up to the storage room on the second floor.
Chen Guo’s internet cafe, called “Xingxin Internet Club,” was quite upscale. It had two floors with over a thousand computers. The second floor was slightly smaller but noticeably more luxurious, designated as the premium area. Additionally, it had a hidden space inside—a two-bedroom, one-living room suite, with the storage room also located within this suite. While Ye Xiu was busy carrying keyboards back and forth, he had already surveyed the suite. The job listing did say: “Food and accommodation included.” Ye Xiu had just left the club and hadn’t figured out his next move yet. The condition of food and accommodation essentially provided him a place to stay, which was why he’d taken interest in the clerk position.
From the looks of it now, this suite was probably the “accommodation” part. Though simply decorated, it was clean and tidy—quite nice, really. Ye Xiu was satisfied, mulling it over as he moved the last few sets of keyboards up and arranged them.
“Alright, this is your living space.” Seeing that Ye Xiu had finished the work, Chen Guo pointed at the small, low bed squeezed into the storage room and said.
“Huh?” Ye Xiu was stunned. He had imagined his living quarters would be the bright, clean suite outside, or at least the sofa in the living room. This place… Ye Xiu looked up. The small storage room had only one tiny window on the western wall, seemingly facing the streetlamp outside. Once the storage room light was turned off, the window would immediately look dim and eerie, almost ghost-like.
“Uh, it’s a bit rough, but just make do with it for now… Actually, my internet cafe isn’t desperate for help right now—you’re neither here nor there. The job posting you saw was from a while ago.” Chen Guo explained.
“Oh, is that so! No worries, this is fine.” Ye Xiu responded at once. His casual tone actually made Chen Guo feel a little guilty—this tiny storage room really didn’t look like a place for someone to live.
“When you’re free, you can go downstairs and use the computers or whatever. It’s fine—no charge for our own people.” Chen Guo said.
“Wow, you’re quite generous, boss!”
“Hey, with over a thousand computers, it’s not like we’re short one.” Chen Guo said.
“How’s the customer traffic usually?” Ye Xiu asked.
“Not bad. I’m satisfied with it, anyway.” Chen Guo added, “Of course, the night shift is quieter—mostly university students from nearby who come to pull all-nighters. You won’t really have much to do, just keep an eye on things.”
“Got it.”
“So, how about pulling an all-nighter tonight to get used to the new job? I’ll also evaluate you, see how you handle staying up all night.” Chen Guo suggested.
“No problem. My all-nighter skills are at full capacity.” Ye Xiu gave Chen Guo two thumbs up, indicating that staying up all night was indeed his strong suit.
“Great then, let’s go downstairs. I’ll treat you to some late-night food as a welcome.” Chen Guo said.
“Oh? What are we eating?”
“At this hour, there’s not much open. There’s a small restaurant across the street that should still be open. Go take a look and grab a few dishes back—just no celery for me.” Chen Guo said as she pulled out 200 bucks from her pocket and handed it to Ye Xiu.
“It’s snowing!” Ye Xiu protested.
“It’s just across the street, not far. How much snow could there be? Hurry up.” Chen Guo urged.
Ye Xiu sighed, left the building, and crossed the street to buy the late-night snacks. He’d just switched jobs and was already being ordered around, but strangely, he didn’t feel too annoyed. This woman chatted casually with him and already treated him like one of her own. Her approachable and familiar manner was actually quite comforting and warm. Just then, Ye Xiu suddenly realized he hadn’t even asked his new boss’s name.