Chapter 75: Collecting Teammates

"Sleep? Are you kidding me?!" Amanda’s voice buzzed through the speaker, practically bursting with frantic energy. "I was way too hyped! Every time I closed my eyes, I kept replaying my map control on you! I’m completely awake now, no way I’m going back to sleep."

Before I could even answer, a sharp red prompt flickered across my vision.

[System Alert: Target Health Warning — Amanda (Luna_Sky)] [Severe Sleep Deprivation & Nervous System Strain Detected] [Risk of Requiring Emergency Medical Attention: 80%] [Action Recommended: Enforce Strict Circadian Regulation]

My brows pulled together as my gaze hardened.

"Listen to me carefully, Amanda," I said, my baritone instantly turning rigid and unyielding. "You are not pulling another all-nighter like that again. I don’t care how high your adrenaline is. If your body breaks down, your career ends before it starts. You stay up like this again, and I freeze the setup."

Silence fell over the comms for two seconds as the weight of my tone checked her excitement.

"Okay, okay... fine, dad," she mumbled, a little flustered by how sharp I had gotten, though her voice still carried that restless morning buzz. "I’m already up now anyway and I’m not sleepy anymore! So... what’s next, investor? When do we start?"

I let out a slow, heavy sigh, wiping the sweat from my brow with the towel and setting the water bottle down on the gym bench.

"Next, we build your team," I said calmly. "I could throw tens of millions at signed veterans and stack a roster with high-priced talent overnight. But I’m not doing that. I want a squad you actually have real chemistry with—players who match your pace, handle your playstyle, and can execute as a single unit. Do you have anyone in mind?"

There was a quick pause on her end, the sound of her shifting in her gaming chair as her tone shifted into something serious and thoughtful.

"Actually..." she murmured, her keys giving a light, rhythmic tap. "There are a few players from the high-elo ladder I’ve been tracking. People who don’t have sponsors, but their raw mechanics and synergy with me are insane. A few really good ones."

"Good," I smirked, tossing the towel aside. "Send me their tags. Let’s see who’s worthy of joining your empire."

She pinged three player tags straight to my phone. I didn’t delegate the outreach to a mid-level recruiter or a cold corporate email. I pulled their direct contacts myself, reaching out personally as the sole financier behind the project. Direct access from top-tier backing builds instant trust—and eliminates the bullshit.

Within an hour, all three had sent over their locations, completely stunned that a high-profile investor was reaching out directly for a flagship roster.

I showered, threw on a dark, tailored jacket, and took the supercar straight to Amanda’s apartment complex. She was waiting at the curb, wearing her oversized hoodie and leaning against the railing, trying to look composed despite her nervous fidgeting.

She slid into the leather passenger seat, her eyes wide as she took in the interior. "So... we’re actually doing this? Face-to-face?"

"You picked them," I said, pulling smoothly out into traffic. "I supply the capital, the infrastructure, and the legal muscle. But on the floor, you’re the captain. When we walk into those rooms, you do the talking. Pitch them the vision. Show them why turning down Luna_Sky is the worst mistake of their careers."

Amanda swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around her phone, before a sharp, familiar spark of competitive fire returned to her eyes. "Consider it done, investor. Let’s go recruit a championship team."

"PiercerXI," I read off the screen, keeping one hand on the wheel as we cut through the city traffic. "How do you know this one?"

"Oh, Piercer!" Amanda said, slouching slightly into the leather passenger seat. "We’ve queued together in high-elo matches a ton of times. Mechanically? She’s an absolute freak of nature. Her aim is pixel-perfect and her reaction speed is almost scary. But..."

Amanda hesitated, biting her lip. "She treats the whole game like a casual hobby. Doesn’t take it seriously at all. She’s basically a lazy, anti-social nepo-baby introvert who spends all her time locked in her room."

Ten minutes later, the GPS guided us into an ultra-exclusive gated neighborhood, finally pulling up in front of a sprawling, stark-white mansion with floor-to-ceiling glass paneling and a fleet of luxury cars parked in the driveway.

Amanda’s jaw dropped. She looked out the window at the estate, then down at her own reflection in the side mirror—dressed in a oversized graphic tee, faded track pants, and a pair of worn sneakers.

"Oh God," she swallowed hard, her confidence visibly draining as she gripped her hoodie sleeve. "I’ve never actually met her in real life... Ethan, I look like I just rolled out of a trash can. What if she doesn’t take me seriously?"

I shifted the car into park and turned to her, my gaze cool, steady, and unbothered.

"You’re not here to win a fashion show, Amanda," I said, my baritone dropping into a firm, reassuring tone. "You’re the top-ranked player on the server, and you’re here to recruit talent. Don’t worry about the house or what you’re wearing. Let your rank do the talking."

Amanda took a deep breath, puffing her cheeks out before letting it fade, a flicker of her usual fire returning to her eyes. "Right. Rank over everything."

"Let’s go," I smirked, opening my door.

Amanda stepped up to the massive double doors, pulling her oversized graphic tee straight and nervously clearing her throat. I stayed back, casually leaning against the hood of my supercar, arms crossed as I watched her handle the front line.

She knocked twice.

A moment later, the heavy door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman in a crisp, formal maid’s uniform. She paused, her sharp eyes flicking over Amanda’s casual track pants, then shifting over her shoulder to take in the sight of me—tailored suit, dark coat, leaning against a multi-hundred-thousand-dollar machine with an aura that clearly signaled heavy money.

The maid’s strict expression instantly softened.

"May I help you?" she asked politely.

Amanda cleared her throat, trying to channel her usual online confidence. "Hi! I’m... well, my tag is Luna_Sky. I’m here to see PiercerXI—I mean, her real name, if she’s home?"

The maid gave a polite nod, stepping aside to hold the heavy door open wide. "Ah, young mistress’s gaming friends. Please, step inside. I will inform her you have arrived."

Amanda cast a quick, wide-eyed look back at me. I gave her a subtle, approving nod, stepping off the car to follow her inside the pristine, marble-floored foyer.

"She is upstairs in her wing," the maid added, gesturing toward a grand double staircase as we walked in. "Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll fetch her immediately."