Everyone in IAC was stunned. David Wright confirmed, “The medic on the other side is Evelyn? Whisper isn’t playing?”

The staff member nodded. “Yes.”

David Wright still didn’t quite understand and pressed further, “Did Whisper come?”

The staff replied, “Yes, he just showed up.”

“Heh.” David Wright laughed. “That’s odd. NSN must have spent a fortune to buy William Harris, and now they’re just letting him sit on the bench? Are they trying not to reveal too many tactics during the warm-up match? That can’t be it, right? Doesn’t William Harris need to get familiar with his teammates?”

The staff just smiled and said nothing, then left after confirming the information. David Wright turned to everyone, delighted, “Come on, let’s do our best! With Whisper not playing, this will be much easier. Henry Clark...”

David Wright asked, “What are our chances of winning now?”

Henry Clark frowned slightly. He wasn’t sure what NSN was up to, and replied, “Forty percent.”

David Wright was dissatisfied. “You just said in the car that we had a fifty percent chance against NSN without William Harris. How did it drop to forty so quickly?”

Henry Clark opened his gear bag to take out his keyboard and mouse. “Morale boost.”

There was no need to explain who brought the “morale boost.”

David Wright thought about it and agreed. With Whisper as their ace, whether he played or not, the whole team’s confidence was solid. David Wright smiled indifferently, “Forget it, let’s just do our best. This is already good news. It’s the opening match of the warm-up, let’s all give it our all!”

Everyone nodded. David Wright glanced at Henry Clark again, and after confirming his mood was stable, he relaxed. David Wright sighed self-deprecatingly—maybe he was just overthinking it. Henry Clark looked perfectly normal.

A few minutes later, after the staff came to notify the team to get ready, everyone stood up and followed them toward the stage.

Henry Clark walked at the front, as usual, discussing a few last points with another assault player. The corridor was long, and before they were halfway down, Henry Clark suddenly paused and stopped in his tracks.

Less than five meters ahead, the door to NSN’s lounge opened.

NSN’s coach and players came out one after another.

The coach led the way, followed by Edward Grant, then Rod and Brian Reed with their arms around each other’s shoulders. After them was Evelyn, and behind him... was a man in casual clothes who patted Evelyn on the shoulder.

Maybe because he joined the team in a hurry, his jersey with his ID hadn’t been made yet.

It seemed he hadn’t cut his hair in two years; his brown hair had grown past his shoulders.

German food probably didn’t suit him—he looked much thinner.

There were so many changes, so many, that the rest of IAC looked confused and asked, “Who’s that tall, handsome guy behind Evelyn?”

Only Henry Clark, with a single glance at that completely changed back, recognized his former captain.

Henry Clark stared at William Harris’s back, frozen in place.

Ever since hearing the news that William Harris had returned to the country, Henry Clark thought he’d been calm. He hadn’t lost his composure, hadn’t made a scene, hadn’t caused trouble for the team, hadn’t given the haters anything to laugh at. He hadn’t gotten excited, hadn’t gotten angry, hadn’t acted like he did two years ago—making a fuss, acting like it was the end of the world.

Henry Clark originally thought it was because he’d grown up, matured, and could now face the past—and this person—calmly.

Unfortunately, that was just “what Henry Clark thought.”

Henry Clark’s chest heaved more and more, his right hand gripping the mouse so tightly it creaked.

“Henry Clark, Henry Clark?” David Wright frowned and gently patted Henry Clark. “What’s wrong?”

Henry Clark took a deep breath and accidentally choked.

David Wright looked confused and glanced ahead. “Who’s that?”

Henry Clark gradually regained his composure and said, “Whisper.”

“Holy shit!!!”

Everyone in IAC was startled. David Wright was speechless. “Th-this...”

Their commotion drew the attention of the NSN players ahead, who all turned around—including William Harris.

William Harris paused for a moment when he saw Henry Clark.

Henry Clark’s chest heaved even more. He turned his head to avoid William Harris’s gaze, and, unable to bear it, strode past the NSN group with his gear, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Henry Clark walked straight ahead, ignoring the staff calling for him to wait for his teammates. In a few steps, he passed through the waiting area and entered the dazzlingly lit front stage. Instantly, a thunderous cheer erupted from the audience.

Chapter 4

“...Evil?”

Inside the glass soundproof room, the four IAC players took their seats. The sniper, adjusting his microphone, asked worriedly, “Are you okay?”

On the team voice chat, Henry Clark replied in a suppressed tone, “I’m fine.”

The three teammates all looked toward Henry Clark at the same time. He didn’t look “fine” at all.

Ever since seeing William Harris in the corridor, Henry Clark seemed like a different person—his face was ashen, his expression completely changed, and if you looked closely, you could see his hands were shaking.

When he was setting up his keyboard earlier, his teammates had noticed that Henry Clark’s hands were trembling so much it took him several tries to get it installed, and he was gripping it so hard that the medic next to him was afraid he’d break the USB port in a fit of anger.

This was nothing like the usual Henry Clark.