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of the Los Angeles Esports Center green room. It was a physical vi
closed. The noise outside was a chaotic storm, but insi
s right wrist. It was wrapped tight in black ki
otated his wrist just
m his median nerve straight up his forearm. It hi
e forced his facial muscles to remain completely blank, swal
iles strode into the room, a tacti
itors. His eyes snapped stra
into the pocket of his black TTC team jacket.
h and walked over, stopping
" Miles asked, his voice low enough t
Harlon replied. His tone was
ark eyes, searching for the micro-exp
hat made him the best jungler in the league. He projected total cont
rubbing the back of his neck, before tur
up! Bring it in
Chester, the team's mid-laner, vio
table, grabbing his phone and slam
e it went dark. He didn't see the specific words, but he saw the sender: a long string of random numbers, an
He caught the unnatura
f unnatural, cold sweat was beading along Chester's hair
ped his head, his hands frantically digging into his peripher
ll frame casting a long shadow over the sofa. He s
sick?" Ha
no. No, I'm good. Just... just
aced it heavily on Chester's shoulder. He squeezed,
gid. He felt like a block of
aring staff member poked his head i
He turned his back and walked toward
t out a long, shaky exhale. The air rushe
mbling fingers, grabbed his mouse from
ows. He didn't look at the flashing stage lights ahead. He turned his head a
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