Chapter 337: Dingchan vs. Luzhou
The round of 40 to 20 proceeded as scheduled. Even with a major incident like [Cup], the league’s progress could not be disrupted.
Lian City Light Institute didn’t draw any of their old rivals this time. Although none of the top 40 teams could be considered weak, there were still clear gaps among the strong. This particular opponent wasn’t formidable enough to require their strongest lineup, so Xu Zhi could comfortably slack off for another match.
In fact, compared to her own team’s game, she was far more interested in Dingchan’s match.
Because of the Minjiang incident, online discourse had even begun to overshadow the league itself—something that had never happened in previous years. With that incident, a series of new regulations had also emerged, most of them targeting [Cup].
The matches could not stop. For certain city leaders, using the league to divert public curiosity about [Cup] was a rather effective strategy.
Thus, the promotion for this new round of 40 to 20 was grand and overwhelming. And Dingchan, this peculiar team, had become a focal point of that promotion.
A dark horse story—and not just any, but one from a remote, previously overlooked city making it into the top 40. No audience could resist being curious about what Dingchan would do next.
What’s more, whether by coincidence or design, two “dark horses” ended up facing each other this round.
[Dingchan] vs. [Luzhou] Pure-Color Team.
This undoubtedly maximized the spectacle. Even viewers who hadn’t cared about Dingchan before now found themselves intrigued.
The revived buzz around the league also masked the undercurrents beneath it. Public attention seemed to shift from [Cup] back to the competition—but in a sense, this was merely a façade of peace.
No matter what, today’s match was bound to draw massive attention. Even though they weren’t scheduled to compete, the members of Lian City Light Institute gathered in the meeting room before the match began, ready to observe this highly anticipated showdown.
[If Dingchan wins again today, I’m betting on them to take the championship!]
[Have gamblers really lost their minds?]
[Honestly, better to bet on Luzhou—they actually look strong.]
[Not necessarily. It might sound absurd, but at the start of the tournament, who thought these two teams would make it this far?]
[Wasn’t it just as absurd to say a prelim team could enter the top 40?]
[But the fact these two ended up facing each other—coincidence?]
[The organizers wouldn’t rig it.]
[Am I the only one who thinks Dingchan has a problem? Their leveling is way too fast—especially that main carry. I suggest investigating them.]
[Did Dingchan knock out your favorite team or something?]
[Just a passerby, but yeah—they’re weird.]
The controversy surrounding Dingchan was clearly greater than that of Luzhou. And when people spoke of a true dark horse, they mostly meant Dingchan.
After all, it wasn’t a secret that Luzhou was backed by [Gods’ Heavy Industries].
“Who do you think will win?”
Before the match began, Xi Min looked at her students.
“On paper, Luzhou should win,” Chu Xiaoyue replied.
It was phrased tactfully, but everyone understood.
Dingchan had made it this far by defeating many teams stronger than them on paper. Simple calculations of strength couldn’t determine their true limits.
“But if they can even beat Luzhou, then something’s definitely off,” she added.
As for what exactly was “off,” no one could say yet.
But if Dingchan truly was just a team from a remote city, it would be impossible for them to reach this point.
This was a world of resource monopolies. What small cities could access was extremely limited—far from enough to support such rapid progress.
Unless there was something else at play.
Seeing the others nod in agreement, Xi Min simply nodded as well and said no more.
“The match is starting. Let’s watch.”
Facing Luzhou, most people privately believed Dingchan stood little chance—at least under normal circumstances.
As expected, Luzhou dominated the 1v1 phase by a large margin. With five [Forge]-type fighters, unless there was an overwhelming gap in strength, it was incredibly difficult to counter them.
“Dingchan has never shown anything remarkable in 1v1 before. They always turn things around in team battles.”
“It’s strange. No matter how smooth their coordination is, without sufficient raw strength, they shouldn’t have achieved so many victories.”
The suppression effect of higher extraordinary levels was no joke.
Yet looking back at Dingchan’s previous matches, there were no obvious anomalies. It seemed they relied purely on flawless coordination and sharp timing to secure their wins.
The only unclear factors were their main carry—and the team’s unnaturally rapid improvement.
During the break between 1v1 and the team battle, Xu Zhi picked up Dingchan’s data, carefully reviewing each player’s profile and match history. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong. The fluctuations of extraordinary energy each player exhibited during matches all stayed within the limits of their respective levels.
And yet—that was precisely what felt wrong.
They seemed to have no adaptation period. After leveling up mid-match, they could immediately master their new abilities. Even their team coordination showed no errors despite the changes brought by those advancements.
Could they truly be that perfectly in sync?
“The team battle’s starting.”
At her teammate’s reminder, Xu Zhi put down the data and looked thoughtfully at the Dingchan team on the screen.
The team battle turned out to be far more intense than anyone had expected.
All five members of Luzhou were [Forge]-types, almost entirely focused on close combat. Their approach was simple: whoever they encountered, they smashed. Forget coordination or flanking—the moment the match began, they charged straight into the enemy front line.
Overwhelming force crushes all technique.
Against such a reckless, brute-force strategy, Dingchan—though clearly prepared—was still thrown off. Blood splattered continuously across the arena. Luzhou’s weapons were mostly blunt, but combined with their immense strength, each strike was no less deadly than any bladed weapon.
On the surface, Luzhou held the advantage. Dingchan seemed to be barely holding on through teamwork, refusing to collapse despite the pressure.
At the start of the team battle, Xu Zhi had already activated her [All-Seeing Eye]. While she couldn’t observe the flow of extraordinary energy through the broadcast, she could still catch subtle details others would miss.
What she noticed was this—
Luzhou seemed to be deliberately creating wounds.
But they weren’t [Aperture]-types. What purpose would creating wounds serve for [Forge]?
Even when they had clear opportunities to simply shatter limbs, they instead chose to make Dingchan bleed more—tearing flesh, causing greater blood loss.
It was as if… they weren’t trying to end the match.
They just wanted Dingchan to bleed more. To lose more flesh.
Caught a mild cold and a slight fever today—my head’s been foggy. I lay in bed all afternoon and only got up around six.
Took a long time to write just this chapter… honestly frustrating. The next chapter might take a bit longer.
