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Claimed By The Ruthless Esports Boss
img img Claimed By The Ruthless Esports Boss img Chapter 4
4 Chapters
Chapter 5 img
Chapter 6 img
Chapter 7 img
Chapter 8 img
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
Chapter 21 img
Chapter 22 img
Chapter 23 img
Chapter 24 img
Chapter 25 img
Chapter 26 img
Chapter 27 img
Chapter 28 img
Chapter 29 img
Chapter 30 img
Chapter 31 img
Chapter 32 img
Chapter 33 img
Chapter 34 img
Chapter 35 img
Chapter 36 img
Chapter 37 img
Chapter 38 img
Chapter 39 img
Chapter 40 img
Chapter 41 img
Chapter 42 img
Chapter 43 img
Chapter 44 img
Chapter 45 img
Chapter 46 img
Chapter 47 img
Chapter 48 img
Chapter 49 img
Chapter 50 img
Chapter 51 img
Chapter 52 img
Chapter 53 img
Chapter 54 img
Chapter 55 img
Chapter 56 img
Chapter 57 img
Chapter 58 img
Chapter 59 img
Chapter 60 img
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Chapter 4

Game three reached its boiling point. Both teams were dancing around the Baron pit, the tension thick enough to choke on.

Suddenly, Harlon's champion dashed over the wall. A perfectly timed Smite. He stole the Baron. The live crowd audio peaked into a deafening scream.

In his apartment, Jess threw a fist into the air. "Road is a god!" he yelled, his face flushed with adrenaline.

But on screen, the celebration lasted exactly one second.

As TTC grouped up to retreat with the buff, Chester suddenly turned around and walked directly into the center of the enemy formation.

He didn't cast a single defensive spell. He evaporated in half a second.

The enemy team surged forward, using the 5v4 advantage to slaughter the rest of TTC. Ace.

In the player cam, Harlon squeezed his eyes shut. His right hand clamped down over his mouse so hard his forearm trembled.

Jess's chat was a nuclear wasteland of rage.

Jess didn't look at the chat. He was staring at the replay of Chester's final movement path. The pathing was so unnatural it made Jess's stomach churn.

He grabbed his microphone stand and pulled it so close it brushed his lips. His voice was freezing cold.

"That was not a mistake," Jess said to sixty thousand people.

He pulled up the digital drawing tool. He drew a thick red line showing the three obvious escape routes Chester had ignored, and the one suicidal path he took.

"He is acting," Jess said, dropping the bomb. "He is match-fixing."

The viewer count violently spiked, breaking one hundred thousand.

Someone donated fifty dollars just to highlight their message: Careful Soft, you can get sued for defamation without proof.

Jess let out a harsh, barking laugh. "I don't care if they ban my Twitch account forever. I'm putting this on the record right now."

Within seconds, clips of Jess's accusation were being ripped and uploaded to Twitter.

Back at the Los Angeles Esports Center, TTC lost the game. The players stood up and walked off the stage.

Harlon walked at the very back of the line. His right arm hung awkwardly at his side, a visible tremor shaking his fingers.

The second the heavy door of the green room clicked shut, the silence shattered.

Harlon didn't lunge. He didn't raise his hands. Instead, he simply walked forward, his tall frame cutting across the room with slow, deliberate steps until he cornered Chester against the tactical whiteboard. Harlon's shadow fell completely over the mid-laner. He didn't touch him, but the sheer cold fury radiating from him made Chester physically recoil, slamming his own back against the whiteboard as if he'd been struck. The metal frame rattled violently.

"What the hell are you doing out there?" Harlon demanded. His voice wasn't a yell; it was a low, guttural growl that promised violence.

Chester's face drained of all color. He shook uncontrollably, his eyes darting everywhere except Harlon's face.

Coach Miles sprinted across the room. "Harlon! Back off! Calm down!" He grabbed Harlon's shoulders, trying to pry him away.

Miles's phone buzzed aggressively in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was a text from the PR manager: Soft just accused Chester of match-fixing. It's trending 1.

Miles stared at the screen, all the blood leaving his face. He slowly looked up and stared at Chester.

Harlon finally took a step back, breaking the suffocating proximity. The sudden, tense shift in his posture sent a sickening, phantom tear of pain radiating through his right wrist, a sharp reminder of the injury he was suppressing. Harlon let out a muffled groan, cold sweat instantly breaking out across his forehead.

Miles looked at Harlon's violently shaking right hand. Then he looked at Chester, who was sliding down the whiteboard in a panic.

Miles made the only choice he could.

On the official broadcast, the play-by-play caster suddenly pressed a finger to his earpiece. His eyes went wide.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the caster said, his voice shifting into a professional, yet somber tone. "As the players for game four are taking their seats, we're getting official confirmation from the referees. And this is a massive change coming from the TTC side. They will be substituting out both Chester and their captain, Road. A shocking decision from Coach Miles in an elimination game, let's see how these rookies will fare under this immense pressure."

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