Chapter 115: Met a Master
The mysterious random player Silent, who had been the talk of the forums, didn’t log in today.
While a large number of players were relieved to escape his clutches, it was a tough day for the streamers who had been waiting to observe his matches.
Over the past couple of days, as the buzz around Silent grew, several major streaming platforms had seen the rise of dedicated streamers who only cast his games. The most popular one had even peaked at over a hundred thousand viewers.
It wasn’t surprising. While pros like Kaiser played exciting matches, they usually fought opponents of equal skill. High-level as it was, it wasn’t as satisfying for viewers.
Silent, on the other hand, played random races every game and utterly crushed his opponents. Though his rank wasn’t extremely high yet, he was already demolishing 3000-point players. The spectacle was explosive.
Most viewers loved watching a good stomp—it was all about the drama.
Well, that might not be entirely accurate. Most viewers enjoyed watching a slaughter, but not against low-tier players in the fish pond. They knew that crushing players above 3500 points was nearly impossible, but stomping 3000-point players was the sweet spot.
Because 3000-point players were already considered skilled. They had solid game knowledge and mechanics. Watching someone dominate them was where the real excitement lay.
For the many players glued to their screens waiting to see Silent’s matches, it was a long and boring day.
…
Evening.
After a day of har(mo)nious (fierce) dis(cus)sion (bickering), the overseas distribution manager of Meteorite Technology ultimately accepted all the terms Chen Mo had proposed, securing the rights to distribute Warcraft overseas.
There wasn’t much back-and-forth. Chen Mo’s stance was simple: take it or leave it.
In the end, the overseas distribution manager of Meteorite Technology nearly lost his composure but had to give in.
There was no other choice. Warcraft’s quality was too high, and Chen Mo had the right to be unreasonable.
The agency agreement was signed.
All functional changes to Warcraft required Chen Mo’s approval. Chen Mo had the right to weigh in on overseas operational strategies and localization translations. Overseas revenue (net profit after deducting promotional costs) would be split 70-30, with Chen Mo taking 70%.
For Meteorite Technology, this was the most humiliating and darkest day in history. The agency agreement they signed was practically a treaty of national betrayal.
Typically, distributors took the larger share of the revenue split. Even a 50-50 split was considered good for a game. But getting only 30% for Warcraft?
The Meteorite Technology manager had mixed feelings. He felt this would either become a stain on his career or a highlight.
After signing the agreement, he left to prepare for the overseas distribution.
As for Chen Mo, he opened his computer, ready to play ranked matches.
He calculated that after a few more wins today, he should start facing top-tier players around 3800 points.
…
“Huh? The Ultimate Tentacle Monster is online!”
“The random race guy, Silent? Quick, he seems to be queuing! Let’s spectate!”
The streamers who had been monitoring this account immediately noticed. They quickly exited the games they were spectating to jump into Silent’s match.
One match.
Two matches.
Three matches.
Same formula, same flavor. Random race, stylish domination. The opponent usually felt disgusted by 10 minutes, didn’t want to play by 20, and GG’d by 30.
The streamers were hyping Silent like crazy, because that’s what the viewers wanted. Among the observers, some streamers were better at commentary, drawing more viewers and higher engagement.
They went on and on, practically deifying Silent as the one true god of Warcraft. They kept recycling stats and rumors, explaining them over and over.
Of course, many questioned this. They argued that Silent was just stomping weaker players—admittedly in a flashy and innovative way—but it didn’t prove he could dominate the true pros.
The chat was constantly filled with arguments. Some said Silent was only good at crushing noobs with his insane APM, but lacked advanced tactics, relying on standard play. Others argued that his APM alone was godlike, and standard play was enough to beat any pro.
Even before he was famous, viewers had already split into “Silent fans” and “Silent haters,” locked in endless battles.
“Quick, another match just started!”
“Wow, this opponent is Latewind? Isn’t that Evening Wind’s alt account?”
“It really is! But Evening Wind’s alt is over 3400 points. How did they get matched?”
“Damn, Silent is already at 3492 points without a single loss! His rank is skyrocketing like a rocket!”
“This match is going to be good! Hurry!”
The streamers and viewers perked up. This time, it wasn’t some random nobody—it was a genuine pro!
Evening Wind was a big name in the domestic RTS scene. His main account was at 3704 points, top ten in the country. His main race was Orc, and he was a player who emphasized mechanics.
At the top level, Orc and Human were the most common races, followed by Night Elf, with Undead being the rarest.
Evening Wind’s main account at 3704 points made it hard to find matches. At that rank, it was usually the same familiar faces, so they’d just arrange direct matches instead.
So, he occasionally played on his alt. Before he knew it, his alt had climbed to 3400 points, and he ran into Silent.
“Oh? Isn’t this that Tentacle Monster everyone’s been talking about?”
“Alright, since I ran into you, sorry, but I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”
“Let you know that 3500-point games aren’t that easy.”
Evening Wind knew about Silent but didn’t buy the hype. He planned to humble him a bit.
Of course, he wasn’t blindly overconfident. He had the skill to back it up, and he’d play seriously, steady and methodical.
It was a four-player map, and they spawned at opposite corners—top-left and bottom-right. Silent got a random race: Human.
The chat buzzed.
“Not bad, he got Human. This match might be competitive.”
“Yeah, lucky he didn’t get Undead or Night Elf.”
“Let’s see how Silent plays. I feel like Human isn’t a sure thing either.”
At this stage, most players were still figuring things out. Many thought Orc was the strongest race, followed by Human, with Undead being the weakest.
Some worried that if Silent got Undead or Night Elf and lost, it would be a real letdown.
Both sides started with standard openings. Orc led with the Blade Master, Human with the Archmage.
Soon, Silent’s scout Peasant found the Orc base. It cheerfully built a Farm right outside the Orc’s entrance before fleeing as the Blade Master tried to chase it down.
Silent had used this trick before. Farms had fortified armor and were cheap. Placing one at the Orc’s doorstep gave Human vision, while the Orc would waste resources trying to destroy it—a losing trade.
This cheeky tactic had been adopted by many Human players, and it worked surprisingly well.
The Archmage and Blade Master each leveled up separately. Since they were at opposite corners, there was no early skirmish. After clearing two or three creep camps, the Human Archmage ran into three Orc Grunts.
Without hesitation, the Human army charged in and started pounding the Grunts. But the Blade Master was nearby, used Wind Walk, and rushed over to hack at the Archmage.
The Archmage was fragile, so he fought while retreating.
“Hmm? This Orc’s mechanics are pretty good,” Chen Mo noticed. The Orc’s real skill was clearly above 3400 points, evident from the subtle micro.
“Finally, a decent opponent. Since that’s the case, I’ll play with you a bit longer.” Chen Mo was getting interested.