Rebirth is fine, but I get eight hundred dollars right from the start?

Knowing is one thing.

As a beneficiary, Lin Shu certainly couldn't feign reluctance to refuse the resources offered by Tencent.

There's a saying...

Your perspective is determined by where you sit!

When it comes to creating idols, digging deeper, their impact on the entire League of Legends ecosystem is actually quite subtle.

Let's start with the benefits. The greatest contribution of creating a god is that it provides players and viewers with a concrete object onto which they can project their emotions.

The game mechanics are cold, the version updates are hard, but a living person—a player with flashy skills, a clean face, and a legendary aura—can give millions of ordinary players sitting in front of their computers a sense of "I want to be him."

During Faker's peak years in his previous life, the number of ranked games in the Korean server, mainly in the mid lane, surged by nearly 40%. In the Chinese server, every time UZI played a key match, the number of players and games in the main AD position at least doubled the next day.

This isn't some kind of mystical phenomenon; the data from the backend is crystal clear.

The most direct chain reaction of this personality cult is the increase in viewership and the influx of sponsors' budgets.

A fan ID that can be easily remembered is worth more than ten brand logos of "Team X".

Esports teams are willing to spend exorbitant transfer fees on star players, live streaming platforms are willing to sign contracts worth tens of millions of yuan, and brands are willing to link their products with that face for co-branding—that's how the money in the entire market has been activated.

To put it bluntly, creating idols is helping this industry build one tangible "asset" after another.

Just like how League of Legends went through a period of decline, the official team formed so-called "all-star teams" and invited TheShy and others to return to the competition. From the cameras not daring to show the seats in the venue to the regular season tickets selling out, the popularity of the game surpassed that of the World Championship. It's the same principle.

It has an extraordinary impact on the professional league environment.

Where there is a God, there is a benchmark.

When young players enter the youth training camp, the first teaching material the coaches bring out is the game videos of Faker, UZI, and Clearlove. "Look at their positioning and maneuvering," "Learn from their laning and minion wave understanding." The power of role models is real.

Moreover, the battle between gods is the best story in itself—the "Great Demon King" beats up the "Eternal God," the "Pig Farm" faces off against the "Silver-haired Wild King"—this kind of rivalry narrative can make an ordinary group stage match sell for the price of a finals ticket.

Having discussed the advantages, what about the disadvantages?

The negative consequences of creating gods in League of Legends can be deadly.

First, the person created by the idolization will be suffocated by public opinion.

In the later years of his career, UZI was burdened by wrist injuries, back injuries, and psychological pressure, to the point that he couldn't even guarantee regular practice matches. Yet, the expectations placed on him never diminished—"You're a god, how could you lose?" "The world's best AD carry is this?"

How many years has Kelier Lawu been criticized because of a 4396 error in the S6 World Championship?

Just because he was the "King of the Jungle" who was praised and said, "I want to prove that I am the world's number one jungler," a single mistake can be magnified tenfold or a hundredfold.

Of course, you could say that UZI and Clearlove are unworthy of their positions and lack the necessary skills, and that the LPL deserves its failure to create gods.

So what about Faker?

After being brought to tears in the S7 finals, he faced a barrage of public criticism in the following years, from being called "The Great Demon King" to "Dafei" and then "Ancient Champion Naomale." Any ordinary player would have been forced to retire twice over in that situation.

Because in those distorted environments, God cannot afford to lose; to lose means to fall from grace, and the higher the pedestal, the harder the fall.

Of course, as the club owner, Lin Shu does not want League of Legends to create a god.

The existence of a god means that the allocation of resources and the public opinion environment of the entire league will be distorted.

The salary of a star player can equal the combined salary of the other four players on a team. In order to retain the "god" and build the team around the "god", the club will spare no expense in terms of money, resources, and tactical adjustments.

The results of it?

New players can't get playing time, the tactical system becomes rigid, and once the "god's" performance fluctuates—or even worse, once the "god" retires or leaves—the entire team and even the entire business environment collapse directly.

The precipitous decline of IG and RNG after the departure of TheShy, UZI, and others began when the "god" fulcrum was removed.

Of course, the most subtle but also the most damaging to the foundation is that creating a god-like figure will cause the entire direction of the game to be hijacked by the playing style of one or a few people.

In order to perpetuate the narrative of "god's rule," the game would unconsciously shift the focus of its previous version.

During Faker's heyday, champions like Orianna, Ryze, Galio, and even Azir, who were considered powerful mages and utility mid-laners, took turns being meta picks, while assassins were nerfed to the point of being unplayable.

In the end, creating so many gods (or idols) makes the entire game's design logic revolve around those few characters, relegating other positions and playstyles to supporting roles. This is not good for the long-term health of a competitive game.

Lin Shu knew these things better than anyone else.

From the moment he reached the top of the national server and began to dominate the Rift, I knew this day would come.

Strictly speaking, he was put in this position, and he knew that Riot Games and Tencent wouldn't have wasted so many resources on him—they needed someone who belonged to esports, to the core of League of Legends' groundbreaking narrative, and someone who could carry the hype of the tournament for the next two to three years.

The market urgently needs someone who can take the lead.

And he was the chosen one.

However, because of his multiple identities, Lin Shu was not too worried that his "god" status would become an obstacle to the future development of the alliance.

Emperor player cannot accept the departure of the god.

But the Emperor boss had no problem.

Furthermore, he had already made considerable preparations before accepting the penguin's idol-making offensive.

Firstly, regarding personal and HWG's public opinion protection, if he wants to maintain his status as a top player, his performance is naturally the most effective protective shield. He certainly won't be like some players who have been promoted and start using their fame as a passport, reducing their training volume, slowing down their adaptation to the new version, or solidifying their playstyle.

Even from the most conservative perspective, it's entirely possible that he and HWG dominated League of Legends for more than three consecutive years.

There's no need for that.

That's why Lin Shu complained about the difficulties in the development of esports when he had dinner with officials from Shanghai yesterday. He mentioned that his previous production of tutorial videos and live streams teaching players how to play lanes and manage resources were all pioneering efforts to give back to the ecosystem and break down barriers.

This may seem like "nurturing rivals," but it's actually about "nurturing an ecosystem."

Only with more and stronger competitors will his "first place" have any real value.

Only when a group of opponents emerges who can push HWG to the fifth game.

The future of League of Legends will be even more brilliant.

A game dominated by one person is stagnant water; a game where a group of people compete is vibrant water.