Delta: With wages in place, even the Demon King's top-tier protection is crushed.

Three massive spotlights shone simultaneously, falling directly on Bruce's team's playing area. The silhouettes of Lü Ang, Nanbowan, and Haotian were bathed in a dazzling golden light, making them look like superheroes who had just stepped out of a helicopter.

Flame effects erupted on the background screen, accompanied by the GTI commander's classic English narration—"Mission accomplished, well done."—and three giant operator silhouettes lit up behind them in turn: Dragon, Luna, and Dr. Bee.

The audience completely lost control at that moment.

No one was sitting quietly in their seat.

Everyone stood up, everyone screamed. Applause, cheers, stomping, some even threw the glow sticks they had been holding all day into the air, the colorful stripes of light tumbling and overlapping, more dazzling than any fireworks.

A chubby boy in the front row jumped up and knocked over the popcorn bucket on his knee, but he didn't care and continued to shout the name of the Bruce Squad at the top of his lungs.

"Bruce! Bruce! Bruce—!"

The sound waves seemed to have a physical presence, crashing against the glass curtain wall wave after wave.

Those players who usually use chat to tease, mock, and break down in the live stream all put down their keyboards and abandoned their sarcastic remarks, leaving only their most primal instincts—cheering for the strong.

They cursed Lü Ang for the entire season, calling him a beast, calling him a CS player, and calling him the Delta Force's Sun Xiaochuan.

But at this moment, when this man smashed the championship trophy into everyone's eyes with a game that cleared the map with 21 kills, the sea of ​​criticism was as if by magic, instantly surging into the same sentence - the champion, well-deserved.

In the official live stream room, the chat pool wasn't just scrolling—it was collapsing.

The server was hit by the biggest traffic surge of the night in that instant, causing a brief stutter on the screen. Urgent shouts came from the technical support team, and several engineers practically scrambled to the backup server to barely stabilize the situation. Once the screen returned to normal, the live chat exploded with comments.

"Champion! Champion! Champion!"

"Bruce! Bruce! Bruce!"

At its peak, the number of bullet comments exceeded three million—three million real-time bullet comments flooded the server in the same second, freezing this peak viewership into a fluctuating number and rows of exclamation marks that were pierced through.

Someone posted a screenshot on Weibo with only four words in the caption: "Even servers are afraid."

Amidst this flood of barrage comments, one type of comment stands out—those familiar troll accounts, those IDs that are always spamming "Gua Chu CS".

"It's over."

"It's really over."

"That beast really won..."

"I've been criticizing him all season, and now he's won the championship. What am I supposed to do?"

"No way! How? He's always doing CS-style gameplay that's disgusting, how can he still win the championship?!"

"I'm not convinced! But I can't quite put my finger on why... because that last game was just inhuman."

"That's it, I won't even have the confidence to scold him anymore..."

"You idiots: Keep cursing, I'm going to put the trophy in the fridge to chill first."

"Don't panic, guys! Winning doesn't change the fact that he's a CS player! A noob will always be a noob!"

"Yes! The championship is the championship, CS is CS, let's keep things separate!"

"The person upstairs is right. Let's keep hurling insults at him tomorrow. Let him be smug for a while tonight."

After struggling for several rounds, those stubborn trolls finally gave up. The last comment scrolled by, and no one objected anymore—"Fine, tonight it is. No more cursing tonight. The champion deserves it."

The stage lights slowly dimmed.

The dazzling flame effects, operator silhouettes, and golden beams of light faded one by one, leaving only the brightest, purest white spotlight in the very center. It steadily enveloped the podium at the very center of the stage, awaiting the night's champion.

The host walked onto the stage, his voice echoing throughout the venue: "Ladies and gentlemen! Let's give a warm round of applause to welcome the Delta Broadcaster Championship champions—Team Bruce!"

Lü Ang stood up.

He was still wearing that black mask, his hat pulled low, revealing only a pair of eyes that held a hint of weariness and a faint smile. Nanbowan and Haotian followed on either side of him. The three of them walked from the competition area to the center of the stage. In just a few steps, the lights followed their steps, and the big screen behind them began playing highlights of the Bruce team's entire finals—the Space Base triple kill, the Baksh pool meat grinder, the extreme gun pull on the central control bridge, and, of course, the final round's individual massacre that left everyone speechless.

With each scene that flashed by, a new burst of cheers erupted from the audience.

Lin Shu stood below the stage, clapping along. He clapped so hard that his palms turned red.

The trophy was brought up by the staff—on the silver triangular pillar, the three GTI operators stood side by side, their figures gleaming coldly under the white spotlight.

Nanbowan was the first to reach out and grasp it. He raised the trophy above his head, and a huge LED screen on the dome of the stadium magnified his figure as he held up the trophy so that everyone could see it clearly.

There was thunderous applause.

Haotian accepted the trophy and raised it up, a slightly silly smile on his face, muttering, "This journey has really not been easy..."

Then the trophy was handed to Lü Ang.

He glanced down—his face, masked, was reflected in the silver glass. His exposed eyes held emotions that no one could truly understand.

The room fell silent for a moment, waiting for him to say something.

Lü Ang raised the trophy above his head. Not with excitement or all his might, but with a steady, gentle lift, as if the weight was meant to be there.

Then golden ribbons of color poured down from the dome. The countless fragments swirled in the spotlight, like a snowfall just for the champion.

The host handed him the microphone: "Mr. Lü Ang, as the captain and FMVP, what would you like to say at this moment?"

Lü Ang took the microphone and remained silent for a moment. He glanced down at the trophy in his hand, then looked up and scanned the dark mass of audience members and the flashes of light that hadn't stopped.

Then he said:

"We're all the same age, I didn't originally intend to use a 'lower dimension' strategy against them!"

The entire room fell silent for a moment.

Then the audience erupted in laughter, screams, and applause. Lin Shu, who was drinking mineral water, almost spat it out when he heard this, and laughed so hard he bent over, punching Yolo's shoulder next to him.

The screen was flooded with comments at the same time:

Hahahaha!

"That was a perfect show of bravado, I give it full marks!"

"That's outrageous! But I can't argue with it!"

"I'm just here to collect rice, and I'll take the championship while I'm at it."

"A dimensional reduction attack... He really dares to say that."

"...But what he said is true, brothers."

Nanbowan and Haotian covered their faces frantically to the side, and the two of them moved half a step to the side at the same time, their movements so synchronized that it seemed like they had practiced.

Meanwhile, Su Wan stood at the entrance to the contestants' tunnel, arms crossed, looking up at the person on stage bathed in spotlight. Upon hearing those words, she couldn't help but shake her head, a smile involuntarily creeping onto her lips as she muttered, "Stinky brat."

But as she smiled, Su Wan's eyes suddenly softened.

……