, Part 1: Be My Sand Soldier!

Lin Xiu pushed through the crowd and strode up to Faker, his eyes fixed on the latter's wandering gaze.

"You think you hit it wrong just now?"

Lin Xiu's voice was low, yet it carried an inexplicable sense of oppression.

"You think the right thing to do is to get dominated by Xiaohu in the mid lane, watch the other lanes slowly collapse, and finally lose the BO5 in despair?"

Lee Sang-hyeok's body trembled violently, but he did not speak.

"I'll tell you what's right."

Lin Xiu suddenly raised his voice, pointing at the victory image that hadn't disappeared from the screen.

"Winning is the right thing to do! It's right to beat those who look down on you and think you're destined to be a loser to a pulp!"

"But..." Faker's voice was barely audible.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to do it a second time. I can't find that feeling anymore, that feeling of attacking without any regard for anything else."

Without the forced arrival of the mindset experience card, he now only felt weak all over.

Abu sighed and looked at Lin Xiu with a pleading expression.

He could tell that Faker wasn't just acting like a big shot; he was genuinely having a mental breakdown.

Although Abu found it unbelievable, having only ever seen people mentally collapse after being completely crushed and losing a match,

You just won a game by a large margin and you're telling me you're mentally broken?

"Give him five minutes," Lin Xiu said, turning to Abu.

"Nobody come in."

People gradually left the lounge, leaving only Lin Xiu and Lee Sang-hyeok curled up in a chair.

Lin Xiu leaned against the table, took out an unlit cigarette from his pocket, and put it in his mouth.

He looked at Faker and suddenly chuckled softly:

"Brother Li, you know what? The way you were on the field just now, you really looked like a god."

Faker looked up, a hint of disorientation flashing in his eyes.

"But even God is afraid, right?"

Lin Xiu walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder.

"It's not just that I'm afraid of RNG and Xiaohu, but I'm even more afraid that if you take on the responsibility of attacking and controlling the tempo and fail, I won't know how to face those who have expectations of me, right?"

Faker's heart clenched violently; it was his deepest subconscious fear.

"But have you ever considered that if you don't push, we've already lost?"

Lin Xiu's eyes were deep.

"RNG suffered a crushing defeat this time, despite being the most resilient team in the LPL."

"In the next game, RNG will fight back ten times more fiercely than they did this time. They will fight back like mad dogs to get their revenge."

"If you pick a turtle hero at this point and stay in the mid lane, that's exactly what they want. They'll crush your teammates to their heart's content."

"What should I do then?"

Faker's voice trembled with a hint of tears.

"Brother Li, you're really good at playing Tsar, aren't you?"

Faker froze, staring at Lin Xiu, his lips moving.

"In the next game, you won't be Lee Sang-hyeok, and I won't be Lim Soo."

Lin Xiu grabbed his collar, forcibly closing the distance between them.

"Next game, I'll be the Tsar, and you'll have to see yourself as one of my sand soldiers!"

"Sand Soldiers?" Faker murmured.

"That's right! Sand Soldiers don't need to think about whether the opponent is Little Tiger, or whether what you're doing is right or wrong."

"You only need to do one thing: if I tell you to go, you go; if I tell you to leave, you leave!"

Faker's pupils trembled violently.

This kind of demand is an insult to any professional player.

But for Faker, who was on the verge of a mental breakdown, this was a lifeline that came out of nowhere.

"Is it okay as long as I listen to you?" Lee Sang-hyeok's voice was hoarse.

"Just listen to me."

"If we win, it's because my command is strong; if we lose, it's because I, Lin Xiu, am not capable of leading you to victory, and it has nothing to do with you."

Lin Xiu patted his face, his tone softening.

"Can you do it? Be a sand soldier who only follows orders."

"Okay, I'm a Sand Soldier."

"I am a desert soldier."

"I am a desert soldier."

He repeated it softly, as if planting a psychological suggestion in himself.

The door was pushed open, and Abu poked his head in, looking anxious: "Time's up, the referee's urging us on. How did it go?"

Lin Xiu stood up, casually put the unlit cigarette back in his pocket, and gave Abu an OK sign.

He then pulled up the silent Faker, and the two walked out of the lounge side by side.

In the corridor, the other members of EDG had been waiting for a long time.

Meiko glanced at Lee Sang-hyeok with some concern and noticed that although her Korean teammate was still looking down and listless, the weakness that had almost made him collapse earlier had indeed disappeared.

"Are you alright, Sang-hyeok?" Meiko asked tentatively.

Lee Sang-hyeok didn't speak; he simply shook his head mechanically, his gaze fixed on the back of Lin Xiu's head.

"I am a desert soldier."

"He's fine, just a little low blood sugar."

As everyone passed through the long, ever-changing contestant tunnel, filled with light and shadow...

The moment I stepped onto the competition stage, the sound waves from the audience almost lifted the roof off.

As the battle anthem began, its stirring and fateful electronic music resonated throughout the venue.

This is the decisive game, the pivotal moment, a crucial match that will determine whether either team can advance further.

In the commentary booth, Guan Zeyuan and Ji De were completely in a state of excitement.

"Alright, everyone! Welcome to the final decisive game of the 2017 LPL Spring Split semifinals!"

"EDG vs. RNG, score tied 2-2, the battle anthem has begun!"

Guan Zeyuan's voice was slightly hoarse.

"This match has garnered the highest level of attention this season!"

Remember to continue the conversation,

"We see that EDG has chosen to maintain the same lineup as in the fourth game, with Linxiu and Faker remaining on the field! It seems the coaching staff has absolute confidence in this mid-jungle duo!"

Just then, the director's camera precisely cut to a close-up of the EDG players.

In the picture, Lin Xiu is adjusting the keyboard, with a spirited smile on his face.

When the camera focused on Faker, it suddenly paused strangely for a few seconds.

Faker sat in the chair, his face as pale as paper, though his hands weren't trembling violently.

But when he adjusted the position of the mousepad, the obvious trembling of his fingertips was clearly captured by the high-definition camera.

He hunched his shoulders, his eyes not even daring to look directly at the camera in front of him, exuding a sense of cowardice and desperation.

[Wow, something's wrong with Brother Li. Why is he shaking?]

[You just finished a great game and got scared out of your wits?]

[Hahaha, it's shaking like a sieve before the fight even starts, it's hilarious!]

[Colonel Guan is right. This newcomer really couldn't withstand the pressure of the decisive game. Look at his eyes, he's practically waiting to die.]

[RNG is in the bag! The opposing mid laner's mentality has completely collapsed; Xiaohu will easily dominate this game!]

On the commentary stage, Guan Zeyuan also frowned:

"Huh? We can see that Faker looks very nervous. This is not uncommon in professional matches, especially in a decisive game where life and death are at stake."

"But this is definitely not a good sign for EDG. If the mid laner's mentality collapses, the Galio system will be completely useless."

However, Faker was unaware of the comments from the outside world at this time.

He simply repeated it to himself.

"This time, I'm the Sand Soldier."