Chapter 57 Apologizing on Weibo

Behind the scenes, in the EDG lounge.

Lin Ruo sat calmly and steadily on the sofa, fiddling with his phone as he composed his post-match Weibo thoughts.

"A rather unenthusiastic day. I just farmed some minions and won. How boring."

"However, the opposing coach's draft was quite interesting. Picking Ziggs, Ivern, and Malzahar all at once—I know you really wanted to push towers, but knowing full well that we picked Shen, why on earth wouldn't you ban Olaf? A Berserker who can ignore crowd control and rampage forward, protected by Shen—I honestly have no idea how Snake's lineup of squishies is supposed to play."

"Anyone unaware might actually think the opposing head coach was an imposter. Just kidding, of course. Both player form and the draft share the blame. Hopefully, Snake's coaching staff and players can make the necessary adjustments."

After sending out the long paragraph, Lin Ruo closed Weibo and leaned back.

Aju walked in from outside the lounge and gave him a gentle nudge. "Post-match interview. You're going."

Lin Ruo's eyes lit up. He had thought that ever since last time, Aju would never let him do one again.

"Mind your words, unless you don't want your second month's salary either..." Aju added a subtle warning.

Lin Ruo made an OK gesture and walked out the door. "Don't worry, I'll never flame my own teammates again."

Seeing him head out, Clearlove had already started giggling quietly.

Hearing the commotion, Aju turned back and stared. "Zhao Zhiming, what are you laughing at?"

"Boss Bu, I'm sure Brother Lin won't do anything out of line up there."

Clearlove reined in his smile. "Though, is it possible Brother Lin has already flamed everyone down here?"

...

In the Snake lounge, Chris was lecturing his teammates while a staff member recorded the entire process with a camera.

Precisely because they might get fired upon returning, they had to make sure their present work was visibly thorough.

Chris was determined to show the boss his resolve to turn over a new leaf and his profound remorse.

"Do you even know what you're playing? You're completely scattered like loose sand! Zzitai, I asked you to establish a tower-pushing tempo, not to abandon your own base while ignoring the towers!"

"Zzr, can you have some agency for once? A jungler needs his own tempo; stop always letting the enemy lead you by the nose!"

"I don't even want to mention the bot lane. How on earth does a Sivir get solo-killed by a Varus under her own tower? Am I supposed to pick a Ziggs for Ohq in the bot lane next game?"

"And you, Yang Fan, why does Malzahar never use his ultimate?"

Seeing SoFM in the corner, Chris was too exhausted to even complain anymore. No matter what you said to this guy, he would just pretend not to understand.

"The enemy Olaf rides right into my face every time we teamfight, how am I supposed to cast it? And then a Shen drops down, so absurdly tanky—what good is it if I ult him?"

Kryst4l looked rather aggrieved, spreading his hands in frustration.

In his view, player form was one thing, but the draft issues were hardly insignificant either.

Shouldn't Chris, as the head coach, do some self-reflection as well?

The foul-mouthed little Chris clearly hadn't realized his own problems until the assistant coach pulled him aside and handed him a phone.

With an anxious expression, Chris hurried out the door, hid in a vacant restroom, and made a phone call.

In the adjacent lounge, Aju was standing with his hands on his hips, fuming with annoyance upon seeing the Weibo post.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? Is this the kind of thing you can just post on Weibo to directly criticize someone?"

"It's not really a direct criticism, is it? Just a gentle pointing out of issues, hoping the neighbors would correct themselves and keep trying. There wasn't anything overly aggressive in the wording."

After reading it, Mouse thought it was fine, probably because he was already used to Lin Ruo's abstract nature.

Aju, however, couldn't accept it. You might not know Chris so you think it's fine, but I do!

Soon enough, that phone call came through.

"Boss Bu, what's your game here? Letting your players pull this kind of stunt on me. We're all neighbors, running into each other all the time with no prior beef between us—was this really necessary? Is it because my coaching was so unsuccessful today that I failed to give you a good time? I'll try harder next time, alright?"

"If you guys are going to play like this, next time takeout for us gets delivered to your side, I'll just sneak over and eat it myself instead of sending it across."

Is this supposed to be a threat?

Listening to the grating accusations, Aju, who had always been stubborn, refused to back down. "To be frank, your draft genuinely had problems. Isn't it a good thing when someone helps point out your mistakes?"

"Even so, you can't broadcast the issues to the public! Some things should be kept private. I have a reputation to maintain and a job to keep, too!" Chris stepped on the toilet lid, thoroughly enraged.

Hearing the word "job," a flash of inspiration struck Aju, and he lectured severely, "You still know you want to keep your job? Can a job be kept by keeping things private? If you don't do something practical to prove your determination, how are you going to convince your boss to give you another chance?"

"I've delivered the message; figure it out yourself."

Beep, beep...

The call was hung up. Left in a daze, Chris wiped off the toilet lid, sat heavily down upon it, and cupped his chin in deep thought.

Aju's words actually seemed to carry a bit of logic.

Shooting some so-called reflection video where he says in private, "I was wrong, I'll keep working hard in the future, we'll definitely get it next time"—wouldn't platitudes like that just utterly disgust the boss?

He had to pull off something major...

Having figured it out, Chris immediately opened Weibo and began editing a post.

"@EDG_Ling, thank you for your corrections and pointers. Compared to top-tier coach Nofe, my drafting work today indeed suffered from varying degrees of errors. With the Snake team starting the season on a three-game losing streak, aside from the players' current form, I bear inescapable responsibility. Thinking deeply on it, I have truly failed the club's cultivation, the boss's trust, and the expectations of thousands of fans. Fortunately, the problems have been identified. Moving forward, I will continue to work hard, actively adjust, and I believe we will secure victory in our next match, using success to repay the trust of the club boss and our fans."

I've already shouldered the public pressure to apologize and show my resolve; surely the boss won't have the nerve to fire me now.

Putting away his phone, Chris let out a sigh of relief, feeling an inexplicable sense of a successful plot coming to fruition.

Kryst4l in the lounge was the first to see the Weibo post. "What the hell? I thought he went to hide in the toilet, but he was actually going off to post on Weibo in secret."

"He even admits his draft had problems. Although our form wasn't great either, with a normal draft, we really wouldn't have lost that miserably."

Zzitai, who was also watching the drama unfold and caught the phrase "imposter coach," nearly burst out laughing. "What's going on with EDGAD? Does he have a personal grudge against Chris?"

"I have no idea. Chris shouldn't even know him."

"Stop yapping. You two can still chat away after playing like that? Maybe the guy just couldn't stand how trash we were and couldn't help but speak up," the sole victim, Flandre, grumbled as he chimed in.

Hearing that, the two of them obediently shut their mouths.

Flandre shifted his firepower: "SoFM, can you please get your professional attitude straight? In the first game, your mistakes were the biggest."

The Viet-gong who had adapted to Chinese scratched his head, pretending not to understand.

Flandre's tone abruptly shifted. "Kryst4l said he's treating us to hotpot."

SoFM still wore an indifferent expression.

Thinking to himself: Do you take me for a fool? Kryst4l would split a single fish among four people—would someone that stingy ever treat anyone to hotpot?