Chapter 78: Can’t Force HIm.

We walked up the creaky, outdoor stairs to the third-floor unit and stopped in front of a rusted metal door. Amanda took a deep breath, stepping up to knock three distinct times.

Almost instantly, the locks clicked, and the door swung open. A tall, gaunt guy with dark circles under his eyes stepped out—LownGun.

The second his eyes landed on Amanda, his expression turned ice-cold. Without saying a word, he grabbed the handle and tried to slam the heavy door straight back into her face.

"Wait! LownGun, stop!" Amanda shouted, jamming her sneaker into the doorframe to block it from shutting completely. "Just hear me out for five seconds!"

I stood a couple of steps behind her on the narrow walkway, my arms crossed, watching the exchange in total silence. A sharp red flag immediately raised in my head. If a potential recruit holds a deep, personal grudge against the captain, forcing them onto the same roster is suicide for team chemistry. But I chose not to step in just yet—this was her recruitment drive, and I needed to see how she handled conflict.

"Get your foot out of my door, Luna," LownGun spat, his voice laced with pure venom as he shoved against the frame. "I don’t care what you’re selling. I’m not listening to a single word that comes out of your mouth, and I am never playing on a team with you."

"LownGun, it’s a real sponsor! We’re building a flagship team—"

"I don’t give a damn about your sponsor!" he snapped, glaring right past her to shoot me a hostile look before locking eyes back on Amanda. "Whatever circus you’re trying to build, it’s going to fail. You’re going to crash, burn, and end up in complete ruins—just like always. Go ruin someone else’s career."

He kicked her foot out of the threshold and slammed the door with enough force to rattle the windowpanes down the entire hallway. The deadbolt slid back into place with a heavy, final click.

Amanda stood frozen in front of the peeling door, her jaw slightly open, her knuckles white as her hand slowly dropped back to her side. Silence hung heavy in the dimly lit corridor.

I walked up beside her, my posture tall and unbothered as I looked down at the closed door, then back to her.

"Alright, Luna," I said smoothly, keeping my baritone low and composed. "Care to fill me in on what just happened back there?"

Amanda stared down at her sneakers, her shoulders slumping as the fight completely left her. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, avoiding my eyes as she slowly backed away from the metal door.

"It was a long time ago," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, heavy with embarrassment. "Back when I first started climbing the high-elo ladder... I wasn’t nearly as good as I am now. I got desperate. I bought a soft-aim script and ran it for a few weeks just to keep up."

She took a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair.

"I met LownGun during that phase. He was already a legit, insanely disciplined marksman. He thought I was just naturally cracked, so he agreed to duo with me for a small amateur tournament. But... I started feeling so guilty. The night before the finals, I wiped the cheats off my drive completely. I wanted to win fair and square alongside him."

She let out a dry, bitter laugh, looking back up at LownGun’s door.

"I crashed so hard, Ethan. Without the scripts, my crosshair placement was garbage, my reaction times were slow, and I completely threw every single round. He took all the heat for it. People called him a fraud for queueing with me, his ranking tanked, and he lost his chance at getting scouted by an academy team. I ruined his shot."

She rubbed her face, her hands trembling slightly. "I purged my account, rebuilt my skills from scratch, and swore I’d never touch a cheat again. But every time I see his tag on the ladder... I just want to fix it. I thought if I brought him onto a real, fully-funded championship team, I could finally make it up to him."

I stood beside her on the narrow, gritty balcony, taking in the full picture. The puzzle pieces instantly clicked into place.

"So he thinks you’re still a fake, and he views your success as a lie built on shortcuts," I said, my baritone cool, grounded, and completely analytical.

"Yeah," Amanda mumbled, biting her lip. "He hates me. And honestly... he has every right to."

I turned my head, scanning the rundown corridor before looking down at her with a sharp, unyielding gaze.

"You made a amateur mistake, and you paid for it by rebuilding yourself from the ground up," I said firmly. "I don’t back cheaters, Luna. I backed you because the player sitting in my passenger seat today put in the work to get here legitimately. But if LownGun can’t see that, or if he’s too blinded by spite to play on a winning team, we have two choices."

I took a step toward the stairs, gesturing for her to follow.

"We either find a way to prove your growth to him in a language he understands... or we leave him behind and find a marksman who actually wants a ring. What do you want to do, Captain?"

Amanda took a long, heavy breath, looking at the scuffed door one last time before turning away.

"Let’s just leave him," she said softly, shaking her head as we began walking down the creaky iron stairs. "I’ve done everything I can to apologize and make things right over the years. I can’t force him to let it go if he doesn’t want to."

"Good call," I said, hitting the key fob to unlock the supercar down on the street. "Chasing someone who holds a grudge will only drag the roster down. A team can’t survive on resentment."

I popped open the doors and we both climbed back into the sleek, quiet interior, shutting out the dreary noise of the rough neighborhood. I pulled smoothly out into traffic, glancing at her through the rearview mirror as I shifted gears.

"Alright, Captain," I said, a slight smirk playing on my lips. "Let’s head to the next person on your list... and let’s just hope you haven’t pissed this one off, too."

Amanda broke into a genuine, bright laugh, the heavy tension from the encounter finally evaporating. "Hey! I’ll have you know my reputation isn’t that bad! The next guy actually respects me, I promise."

"I’ll believe it when we’re at his front door," I replied dryly, pulling onto the main highway. "Who is he, and where are we heading?"