The stadium lights tracked two pale, terrified rookies as they walked onto the main stage. Kian and Leo looked like they were walking to their own executions.
The crowd erupted. It wasn't cheers. It was a tidal wave of boos, mixed with angry chants demanding Harlon.
Leo sat down at the jungle PC. His hands were shaking so violently he couldn't get his headphone jack into the audio port. It took him three tries.
In his apartment, Jess watched the rookies. He let out a long, heavy sigh.
For the first time all night, he didn't yell. "It's not their fault," Jess told his stream quietly. "They're being fed to the wolves."
Game four started. Without Harlon's shot-calling, TTC was a headless corpse.
The enemy team smelled blood. They invaded the jungle immediately, tearing Leo apart.
Leo was solo-killed three times before the ten-minute mark.
The broadcast director cut away from the massacre to show the TTC bench. Harlon was sitting in the back row, swallowed by the shadows. His face was a mask of stone.
But strapped around his right wrist was a massive, thick ice pack.
Jess saw the ice pack. His pupils constricted to pinpricks. His breath hitched in his throat.
The puzzle pieces slammed together in his head. Harlon wasn't benched because of the fight. He was benched because his hand was physically destroyed.
At twenty-two minutes, the TTC Nexus exploded. The series was over.
The arena went dead silent for one agonizing second before the crowd unleashed a deafening chorus of jeers.
Jess didn't say a word. He closed the game client and opened Twitter.
The trending tab was a bloodbath. The top three hashtags were all variations of TTC hate.
Within the hour, clips of Jess's accusation were everywhere, quickly surpassing half a million views and dominating the front page of every major esports forum.
Esports journalists and drama channels were tagging the LCS official account, demanding an immediate investigation.
Jess clicked on the official TTC account. The final score post had one hundred thousand replies. It was pure vitriol.
He scrolled down and saw a verified account post: Road hiding on the bench in game 4 to save his KDA. Pathetic captain.
Jess saw red. A physical heat rushed up his neck. He slammed his fist onto the desk.
"Are you people completely blind?!" Jess roared into his microphone, his voice cracking with raw fury. "Did you not see the ice pack on his arm? He's injured, you absolute morons!"
Outside the Los Angeles venue, the night air was thick with tension. Fifty security guards formed a human barricade, pushing back a mob of screaming fans.
The TTC team bus idled by the curb, surrounded by sports reporters holding microphones and flashing cameras like weapons.
The glass doors opened. Harlon walked out first. The camera flashes exploded, turning the dark street into blinding daylight.
Harlon immediately stepped to the side, using his broad shoulders to physically block the cameras from getting a clear shot of Leo, who was openly sobbing behind him.
A reporter shoved a microphone right into Harlon's face. "Road! Is Chester match-fixing? Did you throw the game?"
Harlon didn't blink. He turned his head and locked eyes with the reporter. The look was so intensely hostile, so full of dark warning, that the reporter physically took a step back.
Harlon didn't say a single word. He ushered the rookies onto the bus, his left hand guiding them up the steps.
The bus doors hissed shut. It pulled away from the curb, leaving the flashing lights and screaming fans behind in the dark.
