Chapter 24: Claiming the Reward

After playing games for a while, Jiang Zheng found his skills a bit rusty. He lost several rounds in a row, which annoyed him so much that he simply quit. Checking the time, he realized it was already late. On a regular day, he would have been asleep by now, but as it was the weekend, he was still up. Still, at this hour, Jiang Zheng decided not to continue playing.

Before going to bed, he claimed today’s task reward. He had never forgotten about this, always waiting until just before sleep to collect it, fearing some unexpected anomaly might occur.

"Reward claimed. Dispensing... please wait patiently."

Jiang Zheng felt a slight unease. Every time the system dispensed a reward, something strange tended to happen; he hoped this time it wouldn’t be too outrageous.

...

On Sunday morning, Jiang Zheng woke up very late. Perhaps it was because he had gone to bed so late the previous night—he felt as though he had no energy at all. After washing up, Jiang Zheng sat in his dorm room chair. He had nothing else to do; he didn’t work part-time, didn’t have a girlfriend, no dates to attend, nor any club or student council activities.

He ate a casual breakfast, rubbed his face vigorously, but still couldn’t shake off his lethargy. He sat there, zoning out.

Zhou Quanyi woke up as well, and after his own morning routine, sat at his computer. Seeing Jiang Zheng idle, he invited him, “Fourth, log in.”

Jiang Zheng didn’t respond; he hadn’t heard Zhou Quanyi. Zhou frowned and called out twice more, “Fourth! Fourth!”

This time Jiang Zheng finally heard him. He snapped out of his daze, looking at Zhou Quanyi with a puzzled expression, “What is it?”

“Want to play a bit together?” Zhou Quanyi gestured toward the computer.

Jiang Zheng thought about it—he really had nothing to do today, and wasn’t sure what he ought to be doing anyway. Playing games sounded fine.

“Log in,” Jiang Zheng said, without wasting words.

Zhou Quanyi grinned, “Fourth, today your brother will carry you. Just relax and enjoy.”

“Alright,” Jiang Zheng replied.

In their dorm, Zhou Quanyi was indeed the most skilled gamer. He played well and often, and had tried many games Jiang Zheng had never even heard of. Most of the time, whenever their dormmates played together, it was Zhou Quanyi who led them to victory.

Jiang Zheng promptly turned on his computer, logged into his account, and entered the game. The two teamed up and quickly started a match.

They lost the first round.

“Damn!” Zhou Quanyi cursed. He had given his all this time, and still lost, which made him a little angry.

Jiang Zheng looked at his own dismal performance and frowned. He didn’t know why, but during the game, he kept making mistakes. He missed kills he should have secured, let opponents escape, and died when he could have fled.

“This round’s my fault,” Jiang Zheng admitted.

If he’d played normally, they could have won; his poor performance cost them the game.

Zhou Quanyi sighed, “No worries, it’s not your fault. Let’s keep going.”

They continued playing.

Second round: lost.

Zhou Quanyi said, “No problem, let’s go again.”

Third round: lost.

Zhou Quanyi gritted his teeth, “It’s fine, let’s try once more.”

Fourth round: lost again.

Zhou Quanyi’s voice squeezed out through clenched teeth, “Continue.”

Fifth round... sixth round...

Zhou Quanyi’s gaze grew vacant, but he still gritted his teeth, “Con...tinue!”

Every game, Zhou Quanyi gave it his all, but every promising situation was ruined by Jiang Zheng’s mistakes.

Jiang Zheng noticed his own shortcomings—he kept making errors today and genuinely didn’t want to drag Zhou Quanyi down, but his mind kept wandering, and he couldn’t focus.

It frustrated Jiang Zheng, and he felt embarrassed to have cost Zhou Quanyi so many games.

“Uh... Boss, maybe I should stop playing,” Jiang Zheng suggested.

Zhou Quanyi’s lips twitched; he had just promised to carry Jiang Zheng, and now...

“It’s fine, let’s keep going. I refuse to believe we can’t win!” Zhou Quanyi forced a smile.

If it were anyone else dragging him down, Zhou Quanyi would have exploded and flamed them into silence. But he understood Jiang Zheng—they lived together in the dorm and often played games side by side.

He knew Jiang Zheng was much better than this.

Jiang Zheng honestly didn’t want to continue, not wanting to hold anyone back.

But seeing Zhou Quanyi’s determined expression, unwilling to give up until they won, Jiang Zheng reluctantly continued.

After three or four more rounds, Zhou Quanyi was on the verge of collapse.

Ten consecutive losses—he had never experienced this before; today was a first.

Zhou Quanyi’s eyes were bloodshot, his stare utterly vacant, and he muttered, “How did we lose again? How did we lose again?”

Jiang Zheng realized that if this went on, he might drive Zhou Quanyi crazy, so he suggested, “Boss, maybe we should stop.”

Zhou Quanyi jolted as if someone had stepped on a cat’s tail, “Continue? What continue? No more!”

Jiang Zheng fell silent. The poor guy had gone mad.

He quietly logged out of the game. His state was really off today, and to avoid holding anyone back, he decided not to play anymore.

Jiang Zheng took out a book, flipping through it to prepare for revision. With finals approaching, a bit of review wouldn’t hurt to avoid failing.

Staring at the page, Jiang Zheng hadn’t finished reading a single line before his mind drifted. The troubling part was he didn’t even realize how he’d lost focus.

Suddenly Zhou Quanyi erupted in a cheer: “I finally won! I finally won!”

Zhou Quanyi exhaled all his pent-up frustration, feeling as refreshed as if he’d eaten a popsicle.

He had never realized that winning a game could bring such joy.

Jiang Zheng snapped back to reality, hearing Zhou Quanyi’s cheer, and felt a pang of guilt. Zhou’s extreme reaction to winning a single game was very much tied to him.

He frowned—when had he zoned out?

He tried to concentrate, continuing to read, but after a little while, his mind wandered again.

This time, Jiang Zheng noticed sooner and forced himself to refocus on the book.

An hour passed, and Jiang Zheng still couldn’t concentrate; every time he tried to read, his mind drifted away.

He realized it was impossible for him to revise today. At this rate, after an hour he hadn’t even finished the first paragraph—how was he supposed to study?

Since he couldn’t concentrate, Jiang Zheng decided not to force it, thinking perhaps it was because he hadn’t rested well the night before.

He lay down on his bed, closing his eyes, intending to take a nap.

He didn’t realize that his thoughts had become slow and scattered.

On any other day, he would have quickly realized that this was likely a side effect of the system reward, rather than poor rest.

Lying on his bed, Jiang Zheng tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

With his eyes closed, his mind was unusually alert.