Rebirth is fine, but I get eight hundred dollars right from the start?

After finishing dinner around 9:40, the three of them went back to the dormitory to get their training jackets. When they came downstairs again, it was almost 10 o'clock.

At this point, people began to come down from the lobby on the first floor one after another, in twos and threes. Some had messy hair, and some were yawning as they walked, clearly having just gotten up.

The breakfast window in the cafeteria was already closed, and the chef was cleaning up the counter, leaving only a pot of plain porridge and a dish of pickled vegetables, which looked half-cold.

Someone went over to ask if they could still get food, but the chef didn't even look up: "We're closing for meals. Please come back tomorrow."

"No, there was no mention of a time limit for eating breakfast, was there?"

"I'm sorry, I'm only responsible for providing breakfast. Please contact Manager Qi for specific management details," the chef explained.

"Excuse me……"

Several contestants turned away dejectedly, one of them muttering a complaint: "This strict on the first day..."

Ten past ten.

There were about twenty people scattered around in the hall, and a few more hadn't come down yet.

Just then, a sharp whistle rang out from outside the gate.

Everyone turned to look.

Qi Zhanming strode in, followed by a robust middle-aged man.

Standing over 1.8 meters tall, with broad shoulders and a thick back, the muscle lines on his arms were clearly visible under his short sleeves, and he had a "you guys need more training" expression on his face, clearly a trained fighter.

Qi Zhanming held a whistle in his hand. After blowing the first whistle, he blew another one, short and powerful, so sharp it hurt the eardrums.

"gather!"

"Everyone, now, immediately!"

A commotion broke out in the hall, and everyone slowly made their way to the center, forming two rows.

Some people were still chewing something, and some had their zippers undone.

Qi Zhanming stood at the front of the line with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping from left to right and then from right to left.

"At 10:25, we will now begin counting heads."

The burly man next to him pointed with his finger, "Twenty-five, twenty-six... twenty-eight. Two are missing."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a series of hurried footsteps came from the stairwell.

Two young men rushed down one after the other, their hair still dripping wet, running and squeezing into the line.

Qi Zhanming didn't stop them. He waited until they were standing still before slowly speaking.

"Okay, great! There are already people who are late on the first day. Well then, congratulations everyone, you've all received a deduction gift package."

He spoke softly, but his voice was clearly audible in the quiet hall.

"Those who skip breakfast will have 3 points deducted. Those who are late will have 5 points deducted. Those who are late in both cases will have 8 points deducted."

There was a loud "buzz" from below.

"Why should I?"

A tall player poked his head out from the team, looking indignant: "I played ranked games until 2 a.m. last night, and I can't get up at 9 a.m. this morning! Aren't you deliberately messing with me?"

"Exactly! It's one thing to get points deducted for eating, but to get points deducted for skipping breakfast too?"

Qi Zhanming put his hands in his pockets, looked up at him, and his expression was very indifferent.

"What does that have to do with me?"

The contestant was taken aback.

"Don't you guys understand the situation yet?"

"Did I beg you to come here?"

Qi Zhanming took a step forward, his voice not loud, but every word was like a nail driven into people's ears, "Get this straight, you signed up yourselves, went through the interviews yourselves, and walked through the gates of this base yourselves. I didn't beg you to come. Once you're here, you have to follow the rules—and I'm in charge of all the rules."

As for other aspects, Qi Zhanming might not have that much confidence yet, but when it comes to expressing arrogance, he is all too familiar with it, having been a spoiled rich kid for a while.

He glanced at the twenty-odd faces below him; some were defiant, some were aggrieved, some were silent with their heads down, and some seemed lost in thought.

"If you want to become a professional gamer, and you can't even manage your basic self-management and time, you might as well go home and raise pigs. At least pigs don't stay up all night playing ranked games, and they can eat on time in the morning."

Someone in the audience couldn't help but burst out laughing, but was then nudged in the waist by the person next to him, and quickly straightened up.

Qi Zhanming ignored the commotion and his voice grew even colder: "Now I'm giving you a chance—if you want to leave, pack your things and get out of here. The bus is waiting at the door to take you back to the high-speed rail station. If you want to stay, from now on, get your attitude right."

The hall was completely silent.

The live stream chat is now flooded with comments.

[Hahaha, "At least pigs eat breakfast on time," Mr. Qi must have poisoned his mouth!]

[This flavor is just right! The guys on the forum are totally into it!]

To be honest, aren't we all more focused on gaming at night? Waking up early is definitely against human nature.

[Inhumane? Try going to work and tell your boss, "I stay up all night playing games and can't get up in the morning," and see if your boss gives you a hard time.]

[Mr. Qi is absolutely right. Professional players are professionals, and professionals should act like professionals.]

The guy above said, "You're not always in the best form at night when you're playing games," that's amateur! Professional players train according to a schedule, not whenever they want.

Honestly, the esports scene isn't that professional yet. Qi's tactics are only effective against HWG.

[Hilarious! The muscular coach next to me didn't say a word, but he was looking at me like I was a raw recruit.]

Wait a minute, I have a question—does esports have training schedules? I thought it was just about playing games casually…

[You asked a great question. I was just as shocked as you when I first learned that esports players also have to get up early to clock in.]

[You really think playing professionally is just about sleeping in and playing ranked games every day? You could play for ten years and still not make it to the LPL.]

I'm definitely watching this show, just for the sake of that manager's mouth!

Once the commotion below had completely subsided, Qi Zhanming turned his head and nodded to the muscle coach behind him.

"This is Coach Zhou, the former strength and conditioning coach of the Bayi team. He will be in charge of your physical training and daily routine management for the next two months. Now—everyone, jog three laps around the perimeter of the training base. We'll have lunch after that. Those who haven't had breakfast will have steamed buns prepared for them at the canteen after the run. Anyone who's late will have to do fifty push-ups after the run."

Another chorus of wails erupted from below.

Luo Yu stood in line, his face turning green. He secretly tugged at Zhao Yicheng's sleeve: "Old Zhao, I ate breakfast for nothing..."

Zhao Yicheng didn't turn around, but only whispered, "Let's run, the club timed it perfectly, we've already taken care of it."

The whistle blew again.

Thirty young people, led by Coach Zhou, rushed out of the base.

Fang Han ran in the lead, his steps steady and his breathing even;

Qin Yijie followed closely behind, without uttering a sound.

Zhao Yicheng was positioned slightly ahead of the middle, running at a moderate pace.

Luo Yu was running in the last place, muttering to himself, but his legs never stopped.

Li Ye, panting beside him, still couldn't resist teasing him: "Serves you right for not going to bed early last night, now you feel better, don't you?"

Luo Yu rolled his eyes, too exhausted to retort.

After running three laps, Luo Yu collapsed on the steps at the entrance of the base, like a dead dog.

Zhao Yicheng supported himself on his knees and caught his breath for a while, then straightened up and reached out a hand to him.

Luo Yu grabbed his hand and stood up, his legs still trembling, muttering, "Tomorrow... I promise I'll go to bed early tomorrow..."