59

As is well known, the six categories of gifted individuals are generally divided into the frontline three and the backline three.

The frontline three consist of the Close Combat class, the Defense class, and the Agility class; the backline three consist of the Support class, the Control class, and the Ranged class. The frontline three possess rugged physiques and demand exceptionally high standards in close-quarters combat; the backline three are physically delicate and require meticulous control over mental energy. In short, each has its own distinct focus.

Leaving aside 6v6 team matches, the optimal 2v2 composition consists of one frontline and one backline. Of course, there are heterodox combinations like double-frontline or double-backline, but unless the individuals possess peerless combat awareness or some eccentric tricks, such teams typically do not go far and easily stumble in higher tiers.

Naturally, when teaming up, one can select a preferred teammate category. The Black Street system is quite user-friendly and generally avoids deliberately messing with people's mental states.

However, Yuan Hanshuang had already made up her mind to slack off, aspiring to become the most inconspicuous of the three selected star fighters. Therefore, she hadn't bothered to select a preferred teammate category at all, yet unexpectedly, a ranged fighter was matched into her team anyway.

No matter, though. Carrying a team is hard, but slacking off? That couldn't be simpler!

Besides, fighting this match on the combat stage inside the VIP lounge meant no match entry fees were required, and losing wouldn't hurt or deduct any tier ranking points. Of course, winning wouldn't bring any money or increase her tier ranking points either.

The sole purpose of the entire process was that a specialized team would be stationed beneath the combat stage to monitor the star fighters' combat process from start to finish and assign various ratings—though goodness knows what they were actually comparing.

Having worked three consecutive days of unpaid overtime for the sake of generous compensation, Yuan Hanshuang had long since lost any desire to act as such a meaningless, observed white lab mouse. Now that she had already made the shortlist, if she didn't slack off now, when would she?

Shifting blame onto teammates was something Yuan Hanshuang had always excelled at.

Especially since the personal assistant had gone out of its mind earlier, making their three star fighters undergo random matching—which would have been fine, except it specifically paired them against opponents from the next tier up.

Matching a mid-fourth-tier fighter according to the standards of the next tier easily resulted in encountering fifth-tier opponents.

Given how drastically the fifth tier serves as a watershed for gifted individuals, running into someone against whom fighting was completely pointless left her wondering what was going on inside that assistant's head. Did testing their combat capabilities not suffice, and they had to test their ability to take a beating as well?

Sure enough, as soon as the opponents refreshed, both turned out to be peak fourth-tier.

Yuan Hanshuang immediately pretended to hammer her shoulder right where she stood. "Oh heavens, I'm only mid-fourth-tier, and the opponents are both peak fourth-tier—two full minor levels higher than me. Plus, I exerted myself too hard in the last match, so my arm hurts a bit. If I don't perform well later on, you absolutely mustn't blame me, teammate."

Jialou, who had watched her entire previous match of fast-paced kicking and punching that swiftly ended the battle: ?

Out of the three star fighters selected, according to the accounting spreadsheet provided by the person in charge, SpongeBob ranked among the top one or two in virtually every single metric. Even more surprisingly, although her mimicry grade was only A, she was merely seventeen years old yet already a mid-fourth-tier fighter. She planned to take the national college entrance examination this year and still held a glimmer of potential for her mimicry grade to continue rising, making her fit all the criteria across the board.

Therefore, after logging into a Black Tower backstage diamond-tier fighter alt account, Jialou had been the first to choose to team up with her, intending to personally verify her skill level. Never had he expected to hear her claim she was injured.

The close-combat class had always been thick-skinned and rugged, never admitting incompetence unless absolutely necessary. The moment they claimed they couldn't, it meant they truly couldn't.

Jialou did not consider himself a tyrannical boss who squeezed the marrow from bones and exploited injured employees. Toward talented individuals, he was usually quite lenient, so he simply said in a calm tone: "Just last at least three minutes."

"I'll do my best." Three minutes was the standard for admitting defeat and surrendering. Yuan Hanshuang sighed inwardly.

No matter what, she was currently an employee working under the Black Prince. With her boss paying such a hefty price to sustain her, voluntarily surrendering was out of the question—she could only slack off. Even if she won, she couldn't win too easily; she had to conceal her true strength.

"Three, two, one, duel begin!"

Following the countdown command, Yuan Hanshuang synchronized with her mimicry and, as if her soles had been greased, began her slacking performance.

Fortunately, this male model-esque ranged-class fighter with the ID "King," despite dressing a bit flashily and acting somewhat aloof, possessed formidable strength. Yuan Hanshuang hadn't paid attention earlier, but while slacking off and paying closer attention this time, she instantly grew delighted.

"Fifth-tier? Good luck."

She had actually been paired with a fifth-tier teammate. Heh, now she could legitimately slack off in broad daylight!

It was just that King's attack pattern felt vaguely familiar to Yuan Hanshuang.

Standing right there with one hand slightly raised, pale flames rising in his palm, exuding no shortage of elegance and style while casually deploying skills with an air of affected coolness—it looked quite familiar.

Yet try as she might, she genuinely couldn't recall where she had seen it.

The backline three categories of gifted individuals had exceptionally high demands for mental energy manipulation, requiring microscopic precision. Therefore, many experts in the backline three didn't need to summon their mimicries and synchronize like the frontline three; instead, they performed rapid synchronizations, transforming the mimicries into streaks of light that plunged straight between their brows.

Yuan Hanshuang couldn't catch a glimpse of King's mimicry in its true form, but she could sense the coercion emanating from his palm, and see the space at the edges of the burning flames distorting due to extreme heat. Looking at how weak and wobbly the legs of the two opponents opposite them looked, she knew it had to be a powerful mimicry of quite a high grade, perhaps even one renowned on the mimicry rankings.

With such a heavy-hitter to lean on, failing to slack off would be an offense against heaven and reason!

Thus, she leisurely exchanged blows with the opponents, occasionally slipping on her feet, occasionally fumbling with her hands, and occasionally throwing a punch wide of the mark.

Putting on such an act, three minutes passed in a flash.

"Congratulations to the team of SpongeBob and King on their victory!"

Since Yuan Hanshuang hadn't proactively surrendered, Jialou lazily raised a hand and simply swept away the opposing team in one wave.

Aside from being backstabbed and having his bottom pulled out from under him on a low-level contaminated planet years ago, Jialou had never lost—let alone voluntarily conceded. Given his pride, that remark earlier was at best just talk.

With his obsession with victory, the word "loss" was simply not recorded in his dictionary.

Yuan Hanshuang was overjoyed. "King, you're too strong! Many thanks, many thanks, I'll head down first to treat my injuries."

With that, she bolted in a hurry.

Naturally, treating her injuries was out of the question.

After stepping off the stage, Yuan Hanshuang ran straight to the lounge next to the VIP room, contentedly chugged all the high-end nutrient fluids provided there, and even poured herself a cup of iced lemonade. After resting outside for a good half-hour, she initiated her second random matching.

"Ding, your match has been successful."

Looking at the familiar one-second match completion on the light screen, a rather ominous premonition arose in Yuan Hanshuang's heart.

Sure enough, when she walked onto the stage, King, dressed entirely in black, was standing right there once more.

Yuan Hanshuang: "Ahaha, what a coincidence."

It was this heavy-hitter of a carry again. Pure ecstasy!

"Mhm," King said coldly. "Your hand should be healed by now."

"Actually, it's not fully better yet."

Yuan Hanshuang put on a theatrical sigh. "Looks like I'll have to rely on you to carry me through this match again."

Watching her continue to massage her hand, Jialou imperceptibly frowned.

Since when was the Black Street's medical team so utterly useless that they couldn't even cure a simple hand injury?

Once the match began, Yuan Hanshuang resumed her grand sightseeing tour.

At first, Jialou remained calm and collected.

After all, the opponents were merely peak fourth-tier, while he was an early fifth-tier. With the chasm-like gap between the fourth and fifth tiers, he could resolve this with his eyes closed. Even as a backline ranged fighter, without frontline assistance, he could skillfully maintain distance and kite them with immense ease.

Gradually, however, Jialou sensed something was amiss.

He realized that, imperceptibly, he had turned the fight into a 1v2.

Meanwhile, a certain twin-tailed black-haired girl who kept claiming her wrist was injured was not only running around with flying speed, but repeatedly missed landing a solid blow by a hair's breadth whenever she supposedly reached an opponent, failing to take out the opposing support class; at other times, she would "accidentally" let a close-combat class slip through to the backline, only to immediately turn back, wave, and call out: "Hey hey hey King, wasn't paying attention for a second, let him run over to your side. Handle that, will you!"

The nimble posture of that waving hand looked nothing at all like someone with an injury.

Jialou was already perceptive and keen of insight; once he sensed something was wrong, he lazily lifted his eyelids, took a careful look, and felt suspicion breed deep within his heart.

To test this hypothesis, he slowed down his attack speed.

The burning of the bone dragon flames grew sluggish.

When an oblivious opponent was finally eliminated by Jialou, Yuan Hanshuang's peripheral vision swiftly caught the news, and she casually threw a punch to shove the close-combat opponent in front of her right over as well.

"King, catch him!"

Over and over again—once or twice could still be called a coincidence, but exceeding three times meant even a fool would realize something was wrong. Jialou narrowed his eyes, watched the retreating back of Yuan Hanshuang as she walked down the combat stage, and coldly pressed his earpiece: "She didn't apply for medical treatment just now?"

Upon hearing the answer, he pulled a chilling, terrifying sneer. "Very well. Have the doctors give her a full-body checkup."

Yuan Hanshuang still had no idea her true colors had been exposed.

After effortlessly riding her teammate's coattails to complete a match, she hummed a tune and stepped down refreshed. Before she had even sat down to rest for long, she saw several doctors in white coats hurriedly walking into the VIP lounge.

"Excuse me, which one is contestant SpongeBob?"

Their expressions were tense and panicked, on high alert as if a grim reaper were standing behind them brandishing a scythe to claim their lives.

Yuan Hanshuang was filled with deep perplexity. "I am."

Before she even had the chance to ask what had happened, this group of specialists—who normally might charge six figures in star coins and demand a high reputation just for a single consultation—swarmed her en masse. Colorful medical skills rained down upon her head and face as if they cost nothing at all, with expensive medical equipment standing by at a moment's notice, making Yuan Hanshuang think she had contracted some incurable disease.

Looking at the diagnostic feedback, the doctors stared at each other in blank dismay.

Wait, isn't she completely fine?! Her body is in great shape! Why on earth had His Excellency the Crown Prince spoken in such a bone-chilling tone, as if he were about to collect a corpse?

Under the intimidation of the Black Prince's reputation, none of the specialists dared to simply declare her healthy, so they immediately spouted a string of nonsense: "Um, she's somewhat fatigued."

"Perhaps her sleep schedule hasn't been very regular lately."

"During puberty, one needs to pay more attention to the skin; you can use a bit more skincare products normally."

Yuan Hanshuang: ???

Unlike the sneering individual on the other end of the earpiece, Yuan Hanshuang remained utterly clueless and filled with confusion.

After these medical specialists cleared out of the VIP lounge, she still hadn't processed what had just occurred. Thus, Yuan Hanshuang rolled over on the sofa, ignored the specialists' warning about cutting down on cold drinks, and picked up her unfinished iced lemonade once again.

After sitting for roughly ten minutes, Yuan Hanshuang noticed that nearly all the staff members in the VIP lounge were casting furtive glances at her, their eyes filled with the exact same inexplicable terror and dread as those specialists.

Five minutes later, someone finally couldn't help themselves: "Umm, SpongeBob, why aren't you going back out for another match?"

"Huh?" Yuan Hanshuang blinked in confusion. "According to the contract for our star fighter program, didn't it say we only need to fight three cross-tier matches a week? Today's only the first day, I want to rest a bit more."

The staff member: "..."

The staff member: "Yes, that clause is in the contract."

That may have been what it said, but His Excellency the Crown Prince had urged them several times just now to get SpongeBob back onto the stage immediately. Anyone could hear the undisguised anger in His Excellency's tone.

Of course, he had also ordered them not to leak a single word of gossip afterwards, since His Excellency claimed he intended to personally settle accounts with this audacious creature who dared to toy with him.

"You really should head back up and continue your matches."

Inwardly, the staff member was crying tears of blood, yet dared not utter a word of dissent.

Yuan Hanshuang swept a suspicious gaze across them.

Her intuition told her something was amiss.

Yuan Hanshuang's intuition was typically very accurate, so she certainly wouldn't make things difficult for herself regarding her gut feelings.

Thus, she stood up with ease. "Let's call it a day for today's combat. I'm feeling a bit tired anyway. Where is the hotel restaurant mentioned in the contract? Is anyone going to guide me there?"