TCWSITD – Chapter 43.1

Chapter 43 has 2 parts; 43.2 will be uploaded tonight at 20:00 EST.

***
Chapter 43.1 – Summer Split Finals

As the crowd poured in, the arena was quickly flooded with fan banners and support gear.
The staff trying to keep things under control were already running dry, totally overwhelmed by how intense the finals had become.
“Lin Jiang is just too unreal. He actually managed to drag OT all the way to the finals like this.”

“That’s nothing. You weren’t around four years ago when KUG was falling apart. Lin Jiang single-handedly dragged them through the LPL and went on to dominate LCK at Worlds.”

“He’s that strong?”

“Think about it—how many players are still at their peak after four years?”

“Tsk tsk, when compared like this, Alike really isn’t that impressive.”

“KUG had it coming.”

“Yeah, I heard KUG’s biggest investor is pulling out. The team’s barely hanging on now.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Someone from inside KUG. Apparently, their office is already cleared out.”

“Damn, seriously? Lin Jiang leaves and the whole team practically crumbles?”

“They’re not shutting down just yet, but they’re definitely losing a ton of resources. Right now Alike’s fans are still fighting with KUG’s…”

Before they could chat further, the crowd surged again, forcing them to quickly put on their badges and step in.

“Don’t push, don’t push, line up to enter. Those in the back, please wait a moment — our staff is working to clear the area…”

***

Time Remaining Until The Final Match: 60 minutes

Both teams were led by officials for a final walkthrough, checking equipment and confirming everything was in working order before returning to their break room to await the official start.

As both teams made their way through the venue for the pre-match walkthrough, they crossed paths.

Both teams wore dark-colored jerseys—OT with thin white stripes, TG with thick yellow ones.

When the two sides met, there was a sense of déjà vu, like they had fought countless battles before. Even the nearby staff unconsciously slowed their steps and held their breath.

They stopped in unison. TG’s captain wore a black cap, exuding an even stronger presence.

Just as everyone braced for an early showdown, the TG’s captain suddenly grinned, revealing a row of white teeth. “Long time no see.”

He pulled off his cap, revealing a clean buzz cut, and politely extended his hand. “Lin Jiang.”

Lin Jiang smiled and shook hands. “Long time no see, Doke.”

The two men shook hands and exchanged a few casual words like old friends, and the atmosphere suddenly eased.

Lin Jiang and Doke had both spent time in the youth training camp and had kept in touch over the years—trading insights, encouraging each other, quietly building a rapport built on mutual respect.

One of the staff members nearby couldn’t help but whisper in admiration, “river might just be the most well-connected player in the entire LPL…”

Eventually, with staff urging them along, both teams returned to their respective break rooms.

Song Zhixu asked curiously, “Captain, are you close with TG’s AD?”

“We came from the same youth training camp. Even back then, I thought he had great potential, and he’s indeed developed well since.”

Song Zhixu let out an “Oh,” then posed a deadly question: “Then, Captain, who do you think is stronger? Doke or Shen Ju?”

Puppy Shen, who had been organizing his equipment, suddenly stopped moving, his ears twitching slightly.

Noticing his reaction, Lin Jiang took a sip of water with a smile, deliberately teasing him: “Doke is slightly stronger, I suppose. I heard his APM once hit 500 during a crucial team fight.”

Most players could barely reach 400 APM in team fights, yet this Doke guy could hit 500?

Song Zhixu was awed. “That does sound a bit more impressive than Shen Ju…”

Lin Jiang smiled without elaborating, deliberately glancing at his disgruntled little puppy who now looked shaken as he pulled out his mouse—probably wanting to test his own APM.

Generally speaking, carry roles required significantly faster APM than other positions, because in the most critical moments of a team fight, their speed often decided the outcome.

Sometimes, the difference of just a second can determine victory or defeat.

Shen Ju was the kind of player who thrived under pressure—the greater the pressure, the more he could push beyond his limits.

Lin Jiang didn’t mind giving him a bit more pressure before the match.

He set down his water bottles and, knowing Shen Ju was listening, deliberately continued: “Doke’s always had a reputation for being ruthless—especially his Lucian. Back then, I even asked him for tips. After leaving KUG, he joined TG and found a support who fits him perfectly. Their synergy is unreal. They’re currently recognized as the strongest bot lane duo in the LPL.”

In his previous life, although TG had suffered an upset loss at Worlds, everyone agreed their bot lane had never been outmatched. That’s exactly what made TG so terrifying.

They always kept their fire alive—give them the slightest spark of opportunity, and they’d ignite into an unstoppable blaze.

After speaking, Lin Jiang looked up at Shen Ju, whose ears were perked up attentively.

Song Zhixu began to worry, “Then, can Shen Ju and Zhou Wen beat them?”

Lin Jiang replied, “TG’s bot lane revolves around Doke. As long as we take him down, we’ll have a chance.”

Hearing this, Shen Ju tightened the bandage around his wrist. Suddenly, a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Lin Jiang standing there.

Lin Jiang took the bandage and knelt down in front of him, wrapping it around Shen Ju’s wrist with quiet precision. His technique was practiced and smooth, unlike Shen Ju who only knew how to wrap it tighter and tighter.

Once finished, Lin Jiang didn’t let go. Instead, he held Shen Ju’s hand and suddenly said, “The match matters… but so does your hand. Don’t push yourself too far.”

He didn’t want Shen Ju to repeat the past—risking everything for a win, pushing his body past its limits, injuring himself until he had no choice but to leave in stage and be forgotten.

Shen Ju was still young. There would be plenty of opportunities waiting for him.

Lin Jiang gave his hand a light squeeze before letting go.

Shen Ju looked up at him.

Suddenly catching the key point, he suddenly had a thought.

So in Lin Jiang’s heart… he was important too, right?

***

Time Remaining Until The Final Match: 30 minutes

Major streamers had already updated their live broadcast room titles, eagerly awaiting the start of the game.

Among them, Old Mao’s stream had the most viewers. As a top-tier retired player, he always pointed out the critical moments of the match with sharp insight, and he dared to speak his mind more boldly than the official commentators.

Many longtime fans preferred his commentary, and soon, the popularity of his stream nearly rivaled the official broadcast.

Old Mao didn’t hold back either, he openly said, “Look, Lin Jiang and I go way back—we’ve been through real shit together. So yeah, I’m biased. If you’re looking for objectivity, this ain’t the stream. Just enjoy the ride.”

TG fans cursed and grumbled but couldn’t bring themselves to leave his stream.

Before the match began, there was still over half an hour of promotional videos, which included a particularly amusing clip.

The organizers had a segment called “Pre-Match Trash Talk” where players could freely provoke and mock each other to spice up the competition, often producing legendary moments.

At the start of the clip, TG’s mid laner, Juzi, took the stage to speak. Known for his mild temperament, his words were always reasoned and refined.

But when Lin Jiang was mentioned, his expression suddenly shifted, delivering the night’s first sharp remake: “I will definitely solo kill Lin Jiang.”

The audience nearly died laughing. Juzi’s grudge against Lin Jiang stemmed from a trash-talk segment years ago.

At that time, TG faced KUG. Juzi, who was then a rookie mid laner, had no idea of Lin Jiang’s prowess. After repeated prompting from the host, he timidly muttered, “Then… I’ll try to solo kill Lin Jiang?”

On the day of the match, Lin Jiang led KUG to crush him.

The following year, his eyes burned with vengeance, Juzi declared again: “I will solo kill Lin Jiang.”

Then KUG sent them off 3:1 again.

In the third year, he doubled down on his bold claims and was eliminated again by KUG 3:2. He never once achieved his goal.

This year marked the fourth time he faced Lin Jiang. Although Lin Jiang was no longer with KUG, he was still the same Lin Jiang—and that didn’t stop Juzi from talking smack.

The moment he finished speaking, the screen instantly cut to Lin Jiang.

Facing the camera, Lin Jiang offered sincere advice: “If it’s really not working out… maybe try changing your dream?”

This indirect retort had the audience in stitches. For three years, Lin Jiang had never responded to Juzi’s taunts. Now, after all this time, a single “try changing your dream” was enough to utterly demolish him.

Beyond the mid lane trash talk, the bot lane also delivered plenty of entertainment.

It started with Doke, who laid down the gauntlet, vowing to prove once and for all who the top ADC really is. He even joked that if Lin Jiang lost, he should come next year and kick Juzi out to take over as TG’s captain.

The camera then cut to Shen Ju, who let out a fierce “Tch,” dialing the drama up to eleven.

The live chat erupted—

[Juzi: ??? Should I just leave?]

[Hahaha, my Shen-ge is fierce and doesn’t say much, tch~]

[Playing AD, you’re proud and arrogant; coveting my captain, your fate is unpredictable!]

[Dog Shen treasures his captain the most—Doke, just you wait!]

[Hahaha, I don’t think Shen Ju will let him off…]

[Shen Ju: Alright, I’ll make sure you die immediately.]

Jokes aside, Lao Mao sincerely said, “TG’s really strong this year. They showed signs back in the Spring Split. If Lin Jiang hadn’t led KUG to suppress them, YIG might not have even taken the championship. What? You ask who I favor more? Sorry, but I’m more optimistic about Lin Jiang. I’m a brainless river fanboy.”

Fans hoping for expert analysis: ???

They grumbled but kept glued to the stream.

As the host announced the players, both teams walked out one by one.

All their focus was on this match, both sides showing great concentration and professionalism.

They connected their gear and logged into their accounts, following the referee’s instructions step by step.

The finals stage was far larger than their usual venue. The silver Dragon Cup stood proudly at the center of the stage, bathed in countless swirling lights. The performance area for 3D projections alone was half the size of the spectator stands.

Apart from Lin Jiang, the other four members of OT were experiencing this grand stage for the first time, each with their own unique mix of nerves and excitement.

Song Zhixu finally realized, “So this is how big the finals venue is… I’ve never been here before. Shen Ju, have you?”

Shen Ju: “…” Do I look like someone who’s been here before?

Zhou Wen chuckled, “I was lucky enough to sit in the audience once.”

Ah Deng followed with a grin, “I was lucky enough to catch it on a livestream.”

Fang Luxing, listening in on their comms, couldn’t help but laugh. ““Alright, time to focus—the match is about to start.”

Lin Jiang, calm as ever, added without much emotion, “The World Championship stage is even bigger than this.”

Teammates: “Huh?”

They all turned to look at Lin Jiang in unison.

Damn, suddenly they felt filled with energy!

The referee’s voice came through the headphones, reminding them that the match was about to begin.

Everyone sat up straight. The moment the game interface popped up, all their focus locked onto the match, their minds perfectly synchronized.

Fang Luxing held his little notebook—he’d learned quite a bit recently under Li Qian’s guidance and had clearly improved a lot. During the champion ban phase, he now spoke with far more confidence.

For the first game, TG had the side selection advantage and chose the red side—a preference unique to them throughout the Summer Split.

Their strategy was very straightforward and aggressive—let everything through.

They would release all the strong champions. If OT picked one, TG would take two, securing victory through sheer draft superiority.

According to their pre-game strategy, they needed to block TG’s tactic of 4-man bot lane dive and then win the game through late-game scaling.

But in reality, everything was just assumptions. Actual matches could change in an instant.

OT’s first pick was Kai’Sa.

Based on pre-game predictions, TG should have picked K’Sante and Jayce.

Yet they chose Nocturne and Renekton instead.

These two champion selections made Lin Jiang sense danger. Since K’Sante was left open, OT would definitely pick him, but the Nocturne-Renekton combo actually weakened K’Sante’s impact.

Fang Luxing thought, “We should still take K’Sante.”

Song Zhixu agreed, “I’m fine with it, I can play him.”

Fang glanced at the draft sheet. “We can grab Lee Sin too. Lin Jiang, do you want us to pick LeBlanc for you?”

Since LeBlanc was open, Lin Jiang would definitely take her, but he couldn’t understand why the enemy would leave both these champions available.

It was too strange. Not picking them felt like a waste, but picking them felt like a trap.

The commentators also believed they should take these two champions. “The timer’s almost up. Is OT really not locking in their picks?”

At the very last second, OT finally selected K’Sante and LeBlanc.

K’Sante was the champion Song Zhixu had made his name with, and LeBlanc was Lin Jiang’s signature champion. The moment these two were locked in, the fans in the audience erupted in cheers, as if the game was already won.

But at this moment, Juzi from TG chuckled. “They fell for it.”

TG then picked Lissandra, and both teams moved into the second ban phase.

The moment Lissandra appeared, Lin Jiang’s expression shifted slightly.

As someone who had long played LeBlanc, he knew all too well—Lissandra is actually a hard counter to LeBlanc.

No matter how elusive LeBlanc’s engages were or how godly his mechanics was, nothing could stop Lissandra’s ultimate—Frozen Tomb.

Once locked onto Lin Jiang, it would freeze him in place, leaving no room for outplays.

The commentators praised TG’s pick, even mentioning a key stat—Juzi was actually a dedicated Lissandra player with the highest proficiency on this champion.

He had used her multiple times in international tournaments, precisely saving his AD from the jaws of death and defeating Korean teams, earning him the title “LPL’s strongest support mid.”

Lin Jiang frowned. “TG still wants to play through bot lane.”

Even after he picked LeBlanc, TG still dared to focus on the bot lane all because they had Lissandra.

This game was going to be tough.

In the break room, Li Qian watched the match unfold, his frown deepening.

Fang Luxing, who had just come off stage, watched with regret. “TG’s bot lane is so disgusting. Sivir and Janna? Who can even kill them? Ugh, we shouldn’t have given Lin Jiang LeBlanc. The counter is too brutal. Wait, Lin Jiang’s playing this well. He stopped Lissandra from roaming bot. Ah, still not enough. Lissandra is just too oppressive. Lin Jiang has zero engage opportunities…”

Even someone as experienced as Lin Jiang couldn’t hide the grim expression on his face.

TG dared to leave LeBlanc open for two reasons—one, they had Lissandra, and two, they had Janna.

If he jumped in, Janna’s ultimate would slam him with a knockback, and before he could blink, Lissandra would freeze him where he stood.

The sheer chain of crowd control had even the commentators sounding hopeless. “river has no engage opportunities at all. TG’s draft completely counters him…”

And it wasn’t just Lin Jiang being countered—top lane was also in trouble.

Song Zhixu’s K’Sante versus Renekton should have been an even matchup. If played well, he could even gain an advantage. However, when the enemy jungler was Nocturne, everything became unpredictable.

The moment Nocturne used his ultimate and darkened the map, even if Song Zhixu retreated immediately, he still couldn’t escape the ambush.

The bot lane fared even worse.

TG’s bot duo picked two lane-sustaining champions, refusing to engage Shen Ju in direct combat. Whenever Shen Ju chased too aggressively, he’d be threatened by Lissandra and Nocturne.

All he could do was helplessly watch the enemy farm.

Anyone who plays this game could understand that if TG continued to develop like this, OT would definitely be at a disadvantage.

The commentator’s voice grew urgent. “OT has to force a team fight! If they don’t go in now, it’s game over!”

But how? And who would initiate?

Lin Jiang tried several times to engage but almost lost his life each time, barely escaping thanks to his passive ability.

The situation grew increasingly dire. Everyone struggled to hold on, but ultimately, they were wiped out by Sivir’s explosive team fight damage, losing the first game.

TG’s lineup was clearly tailored to counter OT—every single champion perfectly stifled OT’s options.

This was what shocked Lin Jiang the most. “How could they devise such a clever strategy in such a short time?”

The last time Song Zhixu played K’Sante was only about ten days ago. “Could it be… when we beat WG, TG was already studying us?”

“It’s possible,” Li Qian pondered. “But I don’t think they were analyzing OT as a team. I think they were studying you, Lin Jiang. I’ve watched TG’s matches closely—what they fear most is KUG. More accurately, they fear you. So when OT made it into the playoffs, they were already preparing for you.”

Whether it was scheduling training matches or pulling out of them, TG had been sending a signal that they didn’t care about OT at all. No one realized—it was actually their way of protecting themselves.

But fortunately, “Next game is our side selection. We can dismantle their strategy.”

— — — —