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

In the afternoon, after finishing a bunch of miscellaneous tasks, Lin Shu finally had some free time. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and pushed open the door to the training room.

As soon as the door opened, a blast of hot air, a mixture of computer exhaust and the smell of new plastic, hit me. Several monitors were still lit, displaying the settlement interface and the ranking queue.

"How is the situation?" Lin Shu walked over to Li Nan.

"Master, these people are all pretty good." Li Nan handed over the notebook, her tone tinged with excitement.

Lin Shu had given up on correcting the use of the title "Master".

The two idiots insisted on calling him that, and he couldn't possibly argue with them every day about "call me boss," "okay master," and "no problem master," which would be a waste of breath.

He took the notebook and flipped through a few pages.

The scoring details were provided by him, but the trial training data recorded one by one was recorded by Li Nan based on his own understanding.

The neat handwriting, including laning ratings, number of mistakes, team fight performance, and notes on winning and losing situations, speaks volumes about the college student's character.

Lin Shu looked up at the field.

There were five computers, and three people had already finished playing. They were sitting in chairs drinking water, looking at their phones, and stretching their wrists.

Two computers are still lit up – White Crescent and Sima Laozei, the two players with the highest scores are still fighting for their last ranked match.

Judging from their overall performance in the five ranked matches, both Happy Hu Fei, who had a loud voice at the beginning, and Wu Hao, whose ID was "Beating up the superior dog of the first region," have actually reached the threshold of LPL level.

His basic skills are good, and his operations are methodical. The biggest problem is his awareness and discipline—these can be gradually trained after he joins the team.

With a little refinement during this period, I wouldn't dare say he'd become a star, but he could easily be a core member of a team with above-average strength.

The performances of Sima the Old Thief and White Crescent were even more remarkable.

In this life, under the influence of his crazy disruption of high-ranking games, the fifteen-year-old thief not only showed his talent ahead of time, but also made a qualitative leap in his basic skills and bottom lane minion wave.

At least we didn't experience the embarrassing situation of not knowing how to manage the bot lane minions in Season 8, like in the previous game.

Many LOL players may only remember White Crescent as a coach, but in the original Trails, he did participate in the first LPL as a professional jungler.

Unexpectedly, after learning that HWG already had a jungler, they decisively turned around and tried out a support player.

He also delivered an outstanding performance in the support role.

That's not surprising.

In his previous life, he managed to become the head coach of a top club like TES. Putting aside his personal skill level, his basic understanding of the game was definitely much better than those coaches who "only know how to order takeout".

With his seasoned experience playing jungle and his innate talent for "a flash of inspiration," White Crescent has managed to carry or support carry in the past four ranked games, all while playing as a support.

Vision, roaming, and timing of team fights are all commendable.

"Damn, what are they going to do?"

He cursed inwardly.

After spending some time in the training room, Lin Shu became somewhat conflicted.

Each of the five people has their own merits, and it would be a loss to let any of them go.

The problem is, there are only so many spots on the team. He can take up one spot as the mid laner, Zhang Hai as the top laner, Li Nan as the jungler, and the bot lane duo can only fit two more players at most—so what about the rest?

Wearing out a bench?

Or should we keep him as a substitute?

The problem is that my current financial situation doesn't allow it.

Lin Shu paced back and forth in the training room a couple of times, then took a deep breath, turned around and whispered to Tang Bin behind him, "Old Tang, take the players to eat first. Wait for my call, then bring them to my office."

"Okay." Tang Bin nodded.

Lin Shu didn't say anything more and walked out of the training room.

……

Inside the HWG boss's office.

The door closed, instantly shutting out the sounds from the hallway outside.

Lin Shu plopped down on the sofa, looked up at the ceiling, and pondered over and over in his mind.

From a business perspective, keeping all five of them is the best option.

Sign a child labor contract—lower the base salary to one or two thousand, provide food and accommodation, train them for one or two years, and occasionally throw them into the competition to show their faces and increase their value.

Once HWG achieves good results, whichever club takes a liking to them will simply collect the transfer fee and resell them at a high price.

A sure-fire way to make money.

This is perfectly normal practice in the esports world.

Countless clubs have survived in this way.

but……

Lin Shu's gaze fell on the table.

There were two contract templates there, which Sister Lin had just printed out that afternoon.

The one on the left is thicker, with densely packed clauses, the text as small as ants;

The one on the right is much thinner and has a more spacious layout; this is the normal contract he prepared for his team members.

The one on the left is clearly a "slave contract".

Lin Shu looked at it and remained silent for a long time.

The office was quiet, with only the occasional chirping of birds outside the window and the faint sound of Lao Tang calling the contestants downstairs for lunch in the corridor.

Then he reached out, grabbed the contract on the left, and without hesitation, tore it into pieces.

He tore it up.

There's no other reason.

It's not that he's kind-hearted, nor that he wants to be a saint in this corrupt circle.

But...

He remembered himself in his past life.

That boy, with no background, no family, and no knowledge, went to play professionally with a lot of enthusiasm, hoping to break free from his impoverished background with his own fists. In the end, he was trapped by a contract, trained until he felt like vomiting, played matches until his hands were injured, and finally had no choice but to transfer.

"Back then, I was naive and was already taken advantage of by esports contracts once."

Lin Shu looked down at the shards scattered on the ground, and a smile slowly crept onto his lips.

"Now that I've been reborn, if I use the same methods to scam others again—"

"What's the difference between that and bullying your former self?"

Outside the window, the setting sun in Taicang was just right, and the light leaked in through the gaps in the curtains, falling on his shoulders.

Lin Shu smiled broadly, without the slightest regret in his heart.

……

Once the idea was decided, Lin Shu didn't hesitate and immediately asked Tang Bin to call for help.

"Call Hu Fei and Wu Hao over here first."

Tang Bin responded and turned to leave.

A moment later, two cautious knocks came from the office door.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and two young men walked in one after the other.

Walking in front was Hu Fei, with a buzz cut, not very tall, but with broad shoulders. He took big strides when he entered the door, but as soon as he stepped into the office, he seemed to be frozen in place—standing stiffly in front of the desk, not knowing what to do with his hands and feet.

Wu Hao, who followed in later, was even more exaggerated. His eyes behind his glasses were wide open, his lips were pursed into a line, and his hands were pressed tightly against the seams of his pants, making him look like he was in military training.

The two of them remained in this position, motionless, from the moment they entered the room.

Lin Shu leaned back in his chair, looking at the two "telephone poles" in front of him. He felt a little amused, but mostly he felt a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a complex feeling of mixed emotions, including sadness and reflection).

He roughly knew what the two young men were nervous about.