Chapter 12: The Most Powerful Transfer Student in History! Whose Young Master Could This Be? [Two-in-One]

Page 1/3

HUB Province, WH City, Hongshan League of Legends Professional Youth Training Base.

Ye Bo, embarking on his first journey away from home, insisted on traveling alone, refusing to let his parents accompany him as he set off for the training base located a thousand kilometers away.

Following the route on Gaode Maps, he carried an oversized suitcase and looked up at the building before him.

“Uh... this should be the place, right?”

Ye Bo hesitated because he had imagined the place would be more upscale.

After all, in the mind of an ordinary player like him, every professional player seemed to earn a million annually, and the stages and venues of the LPL were all grand and lavish.

So, he assumed the youth training base’s facilities would be quite good as well.

But the building before him looked old and worn, clearly having seen many years.

Ye Bo opened his contacts and dialed Wang Chujun.

Shortly after, a man wearing a stand-collar wool sweater, with a round face, came running out of the building and waved energetically at Ye Bo from a distance.

“Hello! You must be Ye Bo?”

“Why didn’t you tell me when you arrived? I was planning to pick you up at the station.”

Chujun, being a coach, knew well how to interact with players and naturally helped carry Ye Bo’s luggage.

“No trouble at all. The place wasn’t hard to find; it’s just that the taxi driver drove a bit too fast, and now I feel a bit nauseous...”

“But the driver was nice and chatted with me in the local dialect. Too bad I couldn’t understand much.”

As they walked inside, Chujun couldn’t help but suppress a smile.

To Ye Bo, entering the base felt like stepping into a new world; everything seemed fresh and exciting.

Though the exterior was somewhat dilapidated, the interior was well-equipped and professional, truly befitting a training base.

Chujun explained along the way.

“This entire building is the youth training base. The upper floors are dormitories. The first and second floors are for training, and the third floor is for intensive training sessions...”

Through the glass, Ye Bo passed several training rooms.

Inside, many young people about his age were wearing headphones and shouting as they played.

“How many people are here now?” Ye Bo asked curiously.

“Pure youth trainees number about 100 to 200. If you include coaches, team managers, and support staff, it’s roughly 300 to 400,” Chujun replied.

“That many?”

“It’s actually not many anymore. Since last year’s ‘Baby Lock’ policy was implemented, youth training has been affected. Even LDL players must be adults now. If fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds come to the camp, they have to stay for at least two or three years before getting a chance...”

Chujun sighed.

The “Baby Lock” policy is essentially a protection against underage gaming addiction.

In response, official competitions have had to comply.

According to him, in previous years, online applications for the youth training camp numbered between 4,000 and 5,000, all at least at the King rank level.

Through online screening, only a select few—one or two hundred—were chosen to attend the offline training camp.

But ultimately, no more than three players made it from the youth camp to the LPL each year.

For a group already elite among players, the final selection was truly like a narrow bridge for thousands to cross.

This year, 2022, despite the previous year’s championship boom, applications sharply dropped to fewer than 3,000.

This shows how significant the impact of the Baby Lock policy has been.

Continuing their conversation, Chujun led Ye Bo to a corner dorm room on the fifth floor and knocked.

Inside were four unfamiliar faces.

“Hello, assistant coach!” The four youths greeted Chujun like a teacher, appearing briefly startled.

Chujun paid no mind and introduced them, “Let me introduce you. This is Ye Bo, your new roommate for the upcoming period and your mid-lane teammate for the first half of the summer split.”

“Hello~”

Ye Bo greeted them warmly, and the four nodded quickly.

“Help Ye Bo tidy up Xiang Chao’s spot,” Chujun said before turning to Ye Bo, “You put down your luggage and come with me for a moment.”

After they left, the four in the dorm pressed close to the door, waiting until they were sure Chujun and Ye Bo had gone, then whispered among themselves.

“Good, good... looks like it’s just that Xiang Chao performed poorly and was eliminated. I thought something had really been exposed...”

“I told you, you were overthinking. If something had really been found out, it wouldn’t be just him.”

“But seriously, what kind of backing does the new guy have? To sneak in at this time, he must have some powerful connections.”

“Could it be another from EDG? Another prince heir?”

“Impossible. They already have a ‘Fish God’ prince heir. Where would another come from?”

“Mainly, if he really were some prince heir...”

The four, initially burdened with worry, seemed to relax upon hearing Ye Bo had arrived, then began gossiping about his identity.

After all, the training camp had been underway for more than half a year. If he were just an ordinary outsider, it would have been impossible to join through normal channels.

Of course, this was also because Ye Bo had yet to introduce himself.

Page 2/3

Especially since he hadn’t shared his in-game ID.

Otherwise, those who spent every day training or surfing the internet here would surely know about the recent viral sensation, the “Canyon Auntie.”

Meanwhile, Ye Bo, walking with Chujun toward the office, listened as the coach detailed some matters about the youth camp.

“Youth trainees and practice players?” Ye Bo asked curiously.

“Yes. You can think of it as outsider players versus club players, roughly speaking.”

“Actually, you should count as a pure outsider youth trainee, but we registered you under the ‘team practice player’ quota so you could join midway.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a backdoor deal. It’s completely legitimate. Many big clubs do this.”

Chujun explained the camp’s situation.

Eighty percent of the youth trainees come from online recruitment, self-registering through rank scores and undergoing online assessments and screening.

The remaining twenty percent are practice players sent in by LPL clubs—players who have contracts but may be too young or have other reasons for being here. They come to gain experience or polish their resumes and generally have significantly higher skill than the outsiders.

The four in the dorm naturally assumed Ye Bo was one of these.

“Here are your... competitors, I guess,” Chujun said.

“The competition in other positions doesn’t concern you. The five matches you need to play have no win-loss requirements. You just need to showcase your differences as a mid-laner on the LDL stage.”

“LDL runs alongside the LPL, staggered. You have about a month to prepare.”

Ye Bo took the list from Chujun.

The list ranked players by “position + number,” reportedly based on pre-admission rank scores, followed by names and self-written IDs.

Chujun marked three mid-laners for Ye Bo.

MID01, Lin Yuhong, “tangyuan.”

MID03, Cai Zijun, “Milkyway.”

MID20, Li Jingtae (Korean), “Fisher.”

“There aren’t many mid-laners this year. From what I see, only these three matter. The others won’t be much of a threat.”

“Mostly it’s 01 and 20.”

“Number 20 is a Korean practice player sent by EDG. They bought him from T1’s youth camp. Since he lacks match experience, he’s here to play a few LDL games to build it up.”

“And 01—quietly between us—is already bought internally by RNG. By the end of this year, he’ll likely be promoted to the first team to replace Xiaohu.”

Ye Bo’s eyes widened at the keyword. “Bought internally by RNG? But they already have players, so why did they contact me last month?”

“Ha~ RNG is just like that. Get used to it.”

Chujun didn’t elaborate, but his meaningful smile made Ye Bo instantly understand and silently thank his lucky stars for not falling into a deep pit.

Come to think of it... the starter who blocked Lao Dengbo for two years was probably tangyuan, wasn’t it?

Chujun then spoke about the LDL’s competition system.

The LDL secondary league has 24 teams.

Besides the 17 LPL teams’ second squads, there are seven “third-party teams.”

The youth camp’s final results are absorbed into these 24 teams, which nurture the selected youth talent each year.

These third-party teams exist mainly to broaden recruitment channels for amateur players and give more outsiders opportunities to perform on the stage.

Of course, this also attracts private capital, since not everyone can afford the exorbitant fees for LPL slots.

Chujun’s team, TO, is one of these third-party teams.

Also notable is PDD’s YM team, the most famous among the seven.

In short,

After listening, Ye Bo gained a new understanding of the LDL league, which he had barely paid attention to before.

“It feels like... the LDL is just a ‘sect tournament’ among big clubs, right? Like a youth battlefield for the 17 LPL teams!”

Feeling something odd, Ye Bo suddenly blurted out a cheeky comment.

Chujun paused, then laughed self-deprecatingly, “You’re right, it really is like that.”

“For teams like ours, except for YM who can still compete for rankings, the others are basically just here to participate.”

“That’s why my goal has always been the LPL, because LDL... honestly has no future.”

Ye Bo was puzzled. “But I don’t get it. Since there are no promotion or relegation matches now, these third-party teams should have no profits and can’t make much money, right...?”

Chujun, just a staff member, naturally had no answer.

“Maybe the owners also have esports dreams?”

“Oh well~”

Though some parts of the youth camp differed from his expectations,

Ye Bo was clearly excited and curious about everything here.

Because arriving here marked the official start of his professional career.

Only, the system didn’t show a “Task Completed” notice.

This was expected—he hadn’t even signed a contract, only a “Camp Entry Responsibility Letter” with the official youth training base, so he wasn’t officially part of a professional team.

For TO, having a “internet celebrity” like Ye Bo to attract attention was a godsend.

For Ye Bo himself, being able to use their slot to participate in the LDL a month later and earn a ticket to showcase himself early was a win-win.

Thus,

Ye Bo said goodbye to Chujun, took his own badge marked “MID 21,”

And returned to the dorm as a “transfer student.”

The four in the dorm were still gossiping. Hearing the knock, they immediately fell silent and got up to open the door.

“Hey, you’re back, bro!”

“So... the assistant coach just called you. Anything important?”

Ye Bo shook the badge casually, “Nothing much, just some entry instructions. I just got here.”

The four exchanged glances and eagerly pressed him for confirmation on their earlier guesses.

But when Ye Bo confessed he was the “Canyon Auntie” who had been trending online the past few days...

The four were visibly shocked!

“No way! It’s you?”

“I thought you looked familiar, and your voice too. Hey man, is the camera in your stream really a landline phone?”

“Dude! I saw you solo-killing Hard Coin, wrecking Jack and Chicken, you’re a real powerhouse now!”

“Taking off!”

Ye Bo was overwhelmed by their flattery, feeling a bit shy even as a social introvert.

He scratched his head and exchanged some polite words.

Then he suddenly remembered something.

“There’s one thing I need to tell you all first...”

“I might... sleepwalk.”

No one took it seriously at first.

But soon, the others learned what “sleepwalking” meant.

According to their accounts—and thanks to some bigmouth who spilled the beans—this matter became well-known throughout the youth camp, sparking endless discussion.

“They say Ye Bo moves his hands rapidly every night while sleeping, as if typing and moving a mouse! Sometimes he even mumbles weird game talk!”

“No, the scariest part is his sleep talk is all gaming jargon...”

“Really?”

“More real than Zhen Zhu. Once at 3 a.m., he suddenly shouted, ‘Pull harder!’ ‘Don’t ult recklessly!’ ‘Is this support Poppy even human?’ It scared me awake!”

These eerie rumors, combined with Ye Bo’s later performance, made for quite a show.

Ye Bo did not disappoint Chujun’s trust.

During weekly group training, Ye Bo’s TO team dramatically reversed their previously bottom-ranked standing, achieving a high win rate.

They ranked second only to the group with MID01 and MID20, becoming strong contenders for the youth camp’s “dark horse” team.

Originally, everyone only knew a “net celebrity” had arrived who sleepwalked, watching with amusement and teasing.

Gradually, their eyes turned to those of spectators watching a “monster.”

“No wonder he’s so strong... this guy really trains even while sleeping!”

“If he can solo kill the toxic Hard Coin, then me getting solo killed is normal, right?”

“The prince heirs are annoying enough, and now there’s a fish in the youth training pool!”

“Go home, go home, what professional scene, just go play ranked!”

If not for the fact he was being specifically targeted with hero bans, many coaches believed TO could even challenge for first place in the youth camp.

Among them, Ye Bo’s performance stood out spectacularly.

He completely overshadowed his four teammates.

Even the youth camp’s head coach, Mr. Abu, openly said during observation, “This guy is definitely the strongest practice player in the past two and a half years, almost a match for iboy when I coached him!”

However, when Chujun heard this, he awkwardly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He didn’t quite agree.

In his eyes, Ye Bo’s performance was far beyond the former youth prodigy iboy.

What was even more frightening was Ye Bo’s rate of improvement—it seemed to increase visibly day by day...

Time flew.

In the blink of an eye, a month passed, bringing them to the height of summer in June.

The summer splits of the LPL and LDL secondary league were about to officially commence!