Chapter 11: Arrogant Young Master

"Ha ha, noob!"

The arrogant young master was mocking his poor opponent, who was slinking away from his booth with head hung low. Sneering, the obnoxious fellow with the flamboyant jacket stomped his foot in the victim's chair before he could rise from it, causing the latter to jolt.

"With skills like those, you should quit the game for good!"

"I…I…"

"Who ask you to talk? Loser, you have no right to speak when you are so newb at the game." The arrogant young master kicked the poor guy's chair, causing it to wheel away. The poor fella gulped as he skidded to a stop, but he didn't dare to retort.

"Now kneel down to me and call me Daddy!"

"…excuse me?"

The other guy stared at the arrogant young master, speechless. It wasn't just him. Everyone in the net café was giving him strange stares. After all, who the fuck pulled such stupid stunts in real life? Why was he behaving like a caricature villain from a badly written web novel?

"Bastard! How dare you not obey me and kneel?! I will have you crippled! Old Da Jia, go chop off this idiot's arms for me!"

Flipping a hand through his spikey, blond hair (which was so obviously dyed), the arrogant young master turned to a bald, burly guy standing by his side. The bulky man was almost two meters in height and looked about forty, with multiple scars crisscrossing over his grizzled demeanor. He was a suit, tie and sunglasses, even though he was indoors. Don't ask me why these men in suits always wear shades indoors – it never made sense to me either.

"Young Master Jiao Ao," Da Jia said patiently. "Chopping off people's arms is illegal."

"I don't care! I told you to chop off…"

"Ahem…" I cleared my throat as I stepped forward, while silently gesturing for Jiao Ao's poor victim to leave. The guy took the hint, nodded his thanks, and left. Pushing up my glasses, I smiled. "Were you guys playing Spacecraft?"

"None of your business," Jiao Ao snarled as he turned on me, looking as if he was stunned at how audacious I was to address him. "How dare you stand in front of me without kneeling?! How dare you talk to me directly?! Do you know who I am?"

"No, not really," I admitted. "A fellow Spacecraft player?"

He took one look at me and burst out laughing. "You call yourself a Spacecraft player? A pathetic nerd like you?!" Snorting, he turned to everyone as he continued to mock me. "Seems like every Tom, Dick and Harry think they can be a Spacecraft player these days!"

I wasn't even sure how I was supposed to respond to that. What was this, some sort of martial arts cultivation story? Why should it matter who thought of themselves as a Spacecraft player or not? And seriously, that was one of the most stupid attempts to insult me that I had ever heard. Were you seriously not aware that a significant portion of the Spacecraft player base comprised of nerds? The irony was pretty much lost on him, considering that he was the very epitome of a raging nerd wallowing in his self-importance at being good at a computer game.

And he wasn't even a professional, just some spoiled rich kid. Not that I was going to underestimate him – for all I knew, he was probably a Masters player. After all, he defeated that last opponent of his…

When he realized that no one was laughing, Jiao Ao turned to Da Jia, but the burly bodyguard merely shrugged.

"Spacecraft is a game that's accessible for everyone. Why are you under the delusion that only specific people should be allowed to play it?"

"S…shut up!" Jiao Ao couldn't believe that his servant was talking back to him. He whirled about to glower at me. I noticed that he was very obviously wearing contact lenses that gave his eyes an artificial, gleaming blue that was most certainly not natural at all. "Get lost!"

"I see." I nodded slowly as I turned away. "I guess you're afraid of playing against so-called nerds. No wonder you keep winning…you only dare to play against new players."

"What was that?!" Jiao Ao raged. "Da Jia, go cripple that guy! Break all of his limbs, and see if he continues to mouth off like that!"

"Young Master," Da Jia said patiently. "Physical assault is a crime in this country."

"I don't care…!"

"Well, you should, or your father will be very displeased."

Grumbling under his breath, Jiao Ao spun away with a scowl. He then noticed the rest of the people in the net café sniggering.

"What a coward…"

"Brags about beating noobs, but doesn't dare to play against an actual player."

"He's probably scared because he can't pay to win in Spacecraft like in other games…"

"Shut up! All of you!" Jiao Ao hollered, and then stomped after me. "Hey, nerd! Stop right there! I accept your challenge!"

"That's more like it," I replied as I returned to face him. "Let's game."

"Not so fast," Jiao Ao growled. "I don't want to waste my time, so let's make a bet. If you lose, you shall kneel down and address me as your father."

"Er…okay?" What was with this weird bet? I honestly couldn't care less if he wanted me to prostrate myself before him and worship him as Emperor. I was secretly relieved that he wasn't asking me for money or to chop off my hand or whatever. I could endure a little humiliation – my pride wasn't worth jack, if you ask me. I was more interested in getting more experience and combating against different styles and builds. That alone was worth whatever punishment he dished out on me, as long as it was neither physical nor monetary. Furthermore, I was interested in his proposal. "Then what happens if I win?"

"Then this master will crawl down on his knees and address you as Master!"

"Please don't do that." I was covering my face with my palm. What was wrong with this idiot? That cheesy stunt was just as much of a punishment to me as it was for him. "Can't you come up with something less embarrassing?"

"It's not going to matter because I will win anyway."

"Liar," someone muttered from the crowd.

"Trying to escape from being made to pay," another one added.

"What kind of bet is this when it's so one-sided? Loser just taking advantage of the situation only because he's rich."

"You…!" Jiao Ao snarled as he turned on the crowd, but he couldn't find the owners of those voices. "Say that to my face! Cowards!"

"You do realize that no one is going to own up, not while you have a big, scary bodyguard standing next to you, right?" I remarked dryly.

"Oh, shut it!"

"Whatever. Let's get to gaming. I don't care about the bet."

"That won't do. It won't be a fair bet otherwise." Surprisingly enough, it was Da Jia who spoke up. Jiao Ao glared at him.

"Whose side are you on?!"

"If you don't make a proper bet, then it's invalid, and he won't need to kneel to you if he loses," Da Jia pointed out reasonably. His master stammered at that for a moment.

"F…fine! Then I'll give you ten thousand dollars if you win!"

"What? Ten thousand dollars?" I gaped at him, taken aback.

"Don't ask for a foot when I give you an inch!" Jiao Ao snapped. "I'm not giving you a cent more!"

"I don't think that's the problem, Young Master." Da Jia was looking thoroughly amused. "He's just surprised that you're willing to throw away so much money on a bet." He smiled at me, or tried to but his expression turned out more menacing than friendly, what with all those terrifying scars. "Don't worry. Ten grand is just pocket change for the young master."

As expected of the filthy rich…

"All right…with that decided, let's get down to gaming." I was already proceeding to my booth impatiently. Swiveling in my chair, I signed in and launched the game. Calling up the lobby, I waited for Jiao Ao to join the game.

"Immortal God?" I raised an eyebrow when I saw his user name. Wow, the spoilt brat really thought highly of himself, didn't he?

The scorn was mutual. I heard Jiao Ao snorting from his booth. "What kind of stupid name is Admech?"

"It's short for Adeptus Mechanicus. It's from another science fiction universe that takes place in the forty-first millennium…"

"Shut up! I didn't ask you!"

Actually, I was pretty sure he did, but I was too lazy to argue. Besides, I was more interested in gaming. So I went straight to launching the game, and began the countdown. The moment the seconds ticked away, we were brought to the loading screen.

So it turned out that the Immortal God was a Demon player. I saw the Demon icon below his profile picture. The moment I identified his race, I began running through simulations and possible build orders. Jiao Ao could either go melee-based Hellhound-Mastodon, with Gargoyle support, or Viper-Brutes for ranged forces. Either way, I still planned on playing mech, but the composition of his army would determine the kind of units I would build. The melee-based Hellhound-Mastodon with Gargoyle support would demand more Titans, whereas the Viper-Brutes would be vulnerable to Panzer tanks and their ranged splash. Investing in too many tanks for the former would leave my largely ground-based army vulnerable to an air strike, especially since neither Salamanders nor tanks possessed anti-air attacks, while the hordes of Vipers and Brutes would overwhelm my Titans because of a lack of ranged splash damage. The Hellhounds were taken care of by my Salamanders' splash damage in close range, but their flamethrowers didn't extend far enough to fight Vipers and Brute evenly. Furthermore, Vipers could evolve to Hydras, which had even more range, as did Brutes into Behemoths, which were essentially biological artillery that outranged my Titans.

Spacecraft was a game that was very much rock-paper-scissors.

While I was running through the simulations and my own build order in my mind, Jiao Ao chortled maniacally.

"Terran?! You play Terran?! What a pathetic race! I knew you were just a loser!"

I suppressed a sigh and tried not to roll my eyes. No matter what game I played, there would always be "racist" players who looked down on other people for not playing the same race as them, and mocked them for either choosing a weak race or taking advantage of an overpowered race. Such discourse was toxic, and the reason why I tended to avoid the forums. As ashamed as I to admit it, I had seen Terran whiners as well, and I had given up telling them that the problem lay with them and their entitled attitude, and not balance or how our race was "weak" or how Demons and Psidorks were "imbalanced" or "overpowered."

Seriously, these jokers would get a lot better if they invested the time they spent complaining into practicing instead. Don't blame the game. Look at yourself and find out how to improve. Learn from your mistakes. That was how you became a better player. Not by waiting for Hailstorm to implement patches for balance changes.

The loading screen dissolved and my Engineers immediately set forth to harvest minerals. Taking a deep breath, I began queuing up construction orders.

Let's see what this rich young master can do, I thought to myself grimly as I sent a single Engineer forward to scout his base. Intelligence was paramount to winning the game, and as long as I could garner some sort of idea as to what he planned to do, I should theoretically be able to counter accordingly.

Unfortunately, as I watched my Engineer cross over to the other side of the map, it became apparent that my opponent didn't seem to possess any sort of actual intelligence…