Chapter 98: Sniper God**
Wu Yifan knew if he kept teasing, Tang Bao'er might actually attack him. He said no more, slumping into her chair with a cocky air. The scent of her lingered—soft, floral, like orchids mixed with musk—sweet enough to make his head spin. He inhaled deeply, grinning lasciviously. "Lollipop, what perfume do you wear? It's making the whole place smell like a flower shop."
Tang Bao'er's cheeks flushed, but a tiny smile tugged at her lips. Compliments, even backhanded ones, felt good. She rolled her eyes. "Pervert. I don't wear perfume. This is *natural*. Figure it out. You're such a noob, you wouldn't get it."
"Oh, natural? No wonder it smells like roast duck." Wu Yifan snickered, thoroughly enjoying her reaction.
"You—!" Tang Bao'er's temper flared. "Just because you can throw a few punches doesn't mean you can insult me! I'll tear you apart!" She lunged, fists raised, but he dodged, laughing.
Lv Long cleared his throat, annoyed. "If you two wanna flirt, do it after. Get a room, for all I care. Even fuck, I don't mind. Just stop wasting our time."
Tang Bao'er choked on her own saliva. "W-what did you say? Flirt? Us? Look at us! Does this look like flirting?!"
Lv Long and his friends stared at her like she was stupid, saying nothing. Their silence spoke volumes.
Tang Bao'er saw their expressions and exploded, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "You perverts! Stop imagining things! I'd rather date a *cat* than this jerk!"
Lv Long shrugged, unimpressed. "Whatever."
"You—!" Tang Bao'er sputtered, too mad to speak.
This可恶的 (kěwù de, detestable) Wu Yifan! How dare he make her look like a fool? She'd show him. She'd pester him until he begged for mercy.
But first, the game. If Wu Yifan lost… she'd die of embarrassment. She bit her tongue, staying quiet.
Wu Yifan took a deep breath, activating his device.
"8 enhancement points remaining. Activate technical precision?"
"Yes."
"Enhancing technical precision ×3. Durability: 1/1."
"Enhancement successful. Technical precision ×3. 2 points consumed. 6 points remaining."
He winced. Half his points, gone in a flash. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
A jolt ran through him. It was like a floodgate opening in his mind—tips, tricks, years of virtual experience flooding in. He felt like a CS veteran who'd logged thousands of hours. His fingers moved faster, his reflexes sharper. The game screen looked as familiar as his own backyard.
"You gonna play, or just sit there?" Lv Long snapped, mistaking Wu Yifan's focus for fear.
"Scared? He's too chicken!"
"Quit showing off and move!"
"Babe, come back. This loser's wasting our time."
The guys jeered, eager to see Tang Bao'er kiss Lv Long.
"Wu Yifan, are you *sure* about this?" Tang Bao'er whispered, doubt creeping in.
"Scared? I'm just warming up. Get ready to watch me destroy him." Wu Yifan smirked, his arrogance oozing. "Let's go."
Lv Long felt a flicker of unease. Wu Yifan had changed—there was a confidence in his posture, a sharpness in his eyes, that hadn't been there before. But no. He'd played CS for four years, mastering every gun, every map. A noob couldn't beat him. He squared his shoulders. "Show me what you've got."
The game started.
*Bang!*
Twenty seconds in, Lv Long's terrorist character crumpled—headshot. By Wu Yifan's cop.
The café went silent.
Mouths dropped. Eyes widened.
"T-that's impossible. It's a fluke!" Lv Long shouted, his voice cracking. "You can't be that good!"
Tang Bao'er leaned in, eyes glued to the screens.
Wu Yifan was a revelation. His fingers danced over the keyboard and mouse, smooth as a pianist's. No panic, no hesitation—just cold, calculated precision. He aimed, clicked, and Lv Long's character fell again.
Sweat dotted Lv Long's forehead. His face paled. He gripped the mouse so tight his knuckles whitened, but he couldn't keep up. Wu Yifan was everywhere—sniping from rooftops, ambushing around corners, predicting his moves like he could read minds.
The room froze. No one typed, no one shouted. Even the background noise of other games faded. All eyes were on the two screens, on Wu Yifan's ruthless dominance.
Twenty minutes later, it was over.
16-14. Wu Yifan won every remaining round.
"Unbelievable…"
"Is he China's next sniper god? A CS legend?"
"That's… that's *mastery*."
"He was faking it earlier?!"
Gasps and whispers filled the air.崇拜 (Chóngbài, Admiration) and awe replaced mockery. Compared to Wu Yifan, they were all amateurs.
Lv Long stared at the screen, expressionless. Numb.
"Holy crap, Wu Yifan! You *are* good! I thought we were done for!" Tang Bao'er cheered, throwing her arms around his neck, bouncing with excitement. Her chest pressed against him, soft and warm, sending a jolt of desire through him. She froze, realizing what she'd done, and pulled back, face burning. "I-I didn't mean to… it was a mistake! Don't get ideas, or I'll—"
"Calm down, Lollipop." Wu Yifan laughed, amused by her fluster. "I get it. No need to kill me."
She huffed, crossing her arms, but a smile slipped through.
Lv Long's friends helped him stand, but he couldn't look at anyone. The shame burned—worse than losing. He'd bragged, taunted, and lost to a guy he'd called a noob.
Wu Yifan turned to him, grinning. "So… about that bet. Streak time?"
Lv Long paled. He'd forgotten.
Tang Bao'er clapped, delighted. "Yeah! You promised! Strip, write 'I'm a pervert' on your back, and run! Don't back out now!"
The crowd cheered, egging him on.
Lv Long's jaw tightened. He glanced at his friends, but they looked away. No help there. He muttered something under his breath, then stormed toward the bathroom.
"Looks like someone's keeping their word," Wu Yifan said, nudging Tang Bao'er.
She giggled. "Serves him right. Think he'll actually do it?"
"Let's find out."
They followed the crowd outside, ready to watch the show.
For once, Tang Bao'er didn't mind being around Wu Yifan. Maybe… maybe he wasn't so bad.
Maybe.