As Aiden waited for the inevitable confrontation, he pulled up videos of Blackthorn's recent matches, studying their tactics with the same intensity he once applied to engineering problems. Their captain—who played under the name "Crimson Executioner"—favored overwhelming force, using his team's superior equipment to dominate opponents early.
But overwhelming force had weaknesses. Every structure, no matter how powerful, had points of vulnerability.
The cafe's atmosphere shifted subtly when they arrived. Conversations quieted as heads turned toward the entrance. Aiden didn't need to look up to know who had entered; the change in energy was palpable.
From his peripheral vision, he saw them—five young men in matching team jackets, led by a tall figure with meticulously styled hair. Crimson Executioner in the flesh—or as the gaming magazines called him, Blackthorn, heir to the Blackthorn Tech fortune.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the entertainment has arrived," announced a voice that carried the unmistakable polish of privilege. "Who's brave enough to challenge the champions of Northern Regional?"
Aiden kept his eyes on his screen, continuing his analysis of Blackthorn's matches.
The cafe residents shifted uncomfortably as the newcomers swaggered between the stations, occasionally pausing to critique someone's gameplay or equipment loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"Look at this setup! Is that keyboard from the last decade?" laughed one of them, leaning over a young player who quickly logged out and vacated his station.
"These peasants aren't worth our time," said another, adjusting his designer watch. "Let's find someone who can at least pretend to be competition."
Aiden continued scrolling through match footage, his expression neutral as the group made their way through the cafe. Their behavior followed predictable patterns: target the obviously weaker players first, establish dominance, then challenge those who showed potential. Classic intimidation tactics.
"Well, well. What have we here?" The voice came from directly behind Aiden's chair. "Someone's actually studying our matches. Points for preparation, if nothing else."
Aiden finally turned, coming face to face with Blackthorn himself. Up close, the team captain looked even more like his photos—chiseled features, confident posture, and eyes that assessed everything in terms of monetary value. His teammates flanked him, creating a wall of expensive team jackets and smug expressions.
"Just passing time," Aiden replied, his voice carefully neutral.
Blackthorn's eyes flicked to Aiden's screen, then to his in-game character profile. A smirk spread across his face.
"The famous 'Architect,'" he said, emphasizing the name with a hint of mockery. "I've heard rumors about a strategic player cleaning up at this..." he glanced around the cafe with thinly veiled disdain, "establishment. Somehow I expected someone more impressive."
Aiden met his gaze without responding, noting the typical tactics: establish superiority, undermine confidence, force an emotional response. Predictable.
One of Blackthorn's teammates leaned in, examining Aiden's character stats. "Mid-level battlemage with basic equipment? Is this a joke? You couldn't afford the premium skill expansions?"
"Not everyone games with daddy's credit card," came Marcus's voice as he returned to his station, energy drink in hand. His broad frame seemed to grow even larger as he positioned himself slightly behind Aiden.
Blackthorn's eyes narrowed at the interruption, but his smirk remained. "How charming. The local talent sticks together." He turned his attention back to Aiden. "Tell you what, Architect. I'm feeling generous tonight. One thousand gold says my Crimson Executioner puts your pathetic battlemage in the ground in under ten minutes. What do you say?"
The cafe had gone silent, all eyes now on their exchange. Aiden felt the weight of those stares—the regulars who had seen him grind night after night, the casual players who had watched his methodical victories, Old Man Jo who knew exactly why he spent his nights here instead of sleeping.
One thousand gold. A hundred dollars in real money. Enough to make a genuine difference in his family's situation, not just this week's patch-up job.
"Five minute preparation time," Aiden said, his voice calm despite the adrenaline beginning to course through his system. "Standard arena rules, no guild assistance."
Blackthorn's eyebrows rose slightly, perhaps surprised by the lack of hesitation. "Agreed. Though I doubt five minutes will help you much." He gestured to an empty station. "I'll set up over there. Try to make this interesting, at least."
As Blackthorn's team moved away, murmurs erupted throughout the cafe. Marcus leaned down, his voice low. "You sure about this? That guy didn't get to the top by playing fair."
"I know," Aiden replied, already opening his character customization screen. "That's why he'll lose."
For the next five minutes, Aiden made rapid adjustments to his character, redistributing skill points and swapping equipment pieces that most players would consider downgrades. To the casual observer, he appeared to be making his character weaker, not stronger.
Marcus watched with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing? You're reducing your defensive stats across the board."
"I don't need defense for what I'm planning," Aiden murmured, his eyes scanning cooldowns and area effect radiuses. "He's expecting me to turtle up against his superior equipment. Everyone does."
Old Man Jo appeared at his side, a fresh energy drink in hand. "Half the cafe is placing side bets on this match," he said quietly. "Most on Blackthorn, but the regulars are backing you."
Aiden nodded, taking a long sip of the drink. The caffeine hit his system like electricity, sharpening his focus. "Thanks for the heads up."
[System]:Challenge request from Crimson Executioner. 1,000 gold wager. Arena: Executioner's Bridge. Accept?
Executioner's Bridge—one of the narrowest arenas, heavily favoring aggressive players with area-of-effect attacks. Exactly what Aiden would have expected Blackthorn to choose.
He clicked accept, and the game began loading the match. Around him, players gathered to watch on their own screens or crowded behind his chair. The weight of their expectations pressed against his shoulders, but Aiden focused only on the loading screen, mentally reviewing the bridge's layout, choke points, and elevation changes.
[Special Match]
Combatants: Crimson Executioner vs. Architect
Location: Executioner's Bridge
Wager: 1000 Gold
Observers: 27
"Good luck," Marcus said, clapping a hand on Aiden's shoulder. "Whatever you're planning, make it count."
Aiden's hands settled on the keyboard as the arena materialized on screen. Across the long, narrow bridge stood Blackthorn's character—the Crimson Executioner in all its glory, armor gleaming with premium enchantments, weapon pulsing with rare effects that cost more gold than Aiden earned in a month.
Behind him, he heard someone whisper, "He doesn't stand a chance."
Aiden allowed himself a small smile. They were right—Blackthorn didn't.
[System]:Match begins in 3...2...1...
The battle horn sounded, and the Crimson Executioner charged forward, just as he had in every match Aiden had studied. Predictable power, predictable pattern.
Instead of retreating or attempting to defend, Aiden's battlemage rushed forward as well, casting not an attack spell, but a simple light cantrip that created a momentary flash directly in front of Blackthorn's character.
A distraction, nothing more—but it caused Blackthorn to trigger his shield spell a fraction of a second too early. A minor mistake that most opponents wouldn't capitalize on.
But Aiden wasn't most opponents.
In the three-second window that followed, he executed a sequence of movements that seemed to make no sense: positioning his character at seemingly random points on the bridge, casting low-level spells at the structure itself rather than at his opponent.
"What the hell is he doing?" someone muttered behind him.
Blackthorn apparently thought the same thing. His Crimson Executioner pressed the attack, unloading devastating combinations that would have destroyed any player focused on a direct confrontation.
But Aiden's battlemage continued its strange dance, taking glancing blows while targeting specific structural points on the bridge with pinpoint precision.
[Crimson Executioner]: Is this a joke? Fight properly or forfeit!
Aiden didn't respond, his fingers flying across the keyboard in a rhythm only he understood. Seven points on the bridge now glowed faintly where his spells had struck—invisible to anyone not looking specifically for the pattern.
With a thunderous attack, Blackthorn's character launched its ultimate ability—Executioner's Judgment—a massive area-of-effect strike that left opponents stunned and vulnerable. Aiden's battlemage took the hit directly, health dropping to a critical level.
A cheer went up from Blackthorn's teammates.
"Finish him!" one called out.
Blackthorn's character moved in for the killing blow, armor glowing with the power-up that followed a successful ultimate attack. The bridge trembled under the Executioner's heavy steps as he closed the distance to Aiden's weakened battlemage.
Exactly as planned.
With his character one hit from death, Aiden activated his final spell—not an attack or a healing ability, but a simple mage utility that most players abandoned after the early levels: Structural Analysis.
The seven points he'd marked earlier suddenly connected with lines of arcane energy. The bridge—specifically engineered with structural weaknesses that only became active when subjected to the vibrations of a power-charged heavy class—began to fracture precisely where Aiden had calculated.
Blackthorn's Crimson Executioner, mid-leap for his finishing attack, suddenly found nothing beneath his feet as the section of bridge collapsed in a perfectly orchestrated sequence.
[System]:Environmental Hazard Activated!
The cafe erupted in gasps as the mighty Crimson Executioner plummeted through the broken bridge, his premium armor becoming his downfall as it dragged him swiftly into the chasm below.
[System]:Crimson Executioner has been defeated! Architect wins! 1000 gold transferred. Current Balance: 2540
For a moment, there was only stunned silence, quickly replaced by an explosion of voices as onlookers processed what they'd just witnessed. Aiden said nothing, his eyes fixed on the screen as the system processed the transfer of 1,000 gold to his account.
"What. The. HELL!" Blackthorn's enraged voice cut through the commotion. He stood abruptly, his face flushed with anger as he stormed over to Aiden's station. "That was a glitch exploit! It doesn't count!"
Aiden turned to face him calmly. "It wasn't a glitch. It's documented in the game mechanics. Executioner's Bridge has structural weaknesses that can be triggered by specific conditions. You would know that if you studied the game instead of buying your way to the top."
The cafe had gone silent again, all eyes on the confrontation. Blackthorn's teammates hovered uncertainly behind their leader, whose hands had clenched into fists.
"You think this is clever? Hiding behind game mechanics instead of facing me directly?" Blackthorn's voice shook with barely controlled rage. "Nobody plays like that. Nobody with actual skill, anyway."
"Yet I won," Aiden replied simply. "The gold is mine."
For a moment, it seemed Blackthorn might resort to physical confrontation. Marcus stepped forward, his imposing presence a silent warning. Old Man Jo appeared as well, arms crossed.
"The match was legitimate," Jo stated firmly. "I've been running this cafe for fifteen years, kid. I know an exploit when I see one, and that wasn't it. That was strategy. Pay up and move on."
Blackthorn's gaze shifted between them before settling back on Aiden with cold intensity. "This isn't over," he said quietly. "You think you've won something here? You've just made an enemy who can destroy you with a phone call."
Aiden held his gaze. "Threatening other players is against Terms of Service. So is refusing to honor a legitimate wager." He nodded toward the numerous witnesses with their phones raised, recording the exchange. "Your choice."
With a final glare that promised future retribution, Blackthorn turned and stormed out, his team scrambling to follow. The door's bell jangled violently in his wake.
The cafe erupted in cheers and congratulations, players clapping Aiden on the back and demanding to know how he'd recognized the bridge's weakness. Marcus grinned broadly, raising Aiden's arm like a boxing champion.
"The Architect strikes again!" he announced to appreciative hoots and hollers.
As the excitement continued around him, Aiden quietly opened the gold conversion window. With his new balance of 2,540 gold, he could cash out $250 after fees—enough for Lily's science program, some groceries, and a small payment toward their mother's care.
"That was something else," Old Man Jo said, appearing at his side as the crowd dispersed. "Never seen anything like it. You just made a powerful enemy, though."
Aiden nodded, completing the conversion request. "I know. But I needed the gold more than I needed his goodwill."
Jo studied him for a moment. "You're not just playing for fun, are you, kid?"
"Nobody here is," Aiden replied, gesturing to the late-night gamers around them. "We're all grinding for something."
As the system confirmed his cash‑out, Aiden checked the time—4:45 AM. He wouldn't get a full hour's sleep now, but he'd grab whatever shut‑eye he could before Lily woke up. He'd tell her about the science program over breakfast.
"See you tomorrow night?" Jo asked as Aiden gathered his things.
"Same time," Aiden confirmed, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion as the adrenaline faded. "And Jo? Thanks for backing me up."
The old man waved dismissively. "That trust fund kid needed a lesson. Just be careful. People like that don't forget when their pride gets wounded."
As Aiden stepped into the pre-dawn darkness, the cool air refreshed his tired mind. His victory against Blackthorn would make waves in the local gaming community—perhaps beyond. The gold would help his family this week, but the attention might bring new challenges and opportunities.
For the first time in months, he allowed himself to feel a flicker of hope. Not just for survival, but for something more. The same local news sites that covered Blackthorn's gaming career might now mention the mysterious "Architect" who had defeated him.
More challengers meant more potential income. More income meant better care for his mother, better opportunities for Lily, maybe even a chance to finish his own education someday.
As the first hints of sunrise colored the horizon, Aiden quickened his pace toward home. Today would be another day of work, responsibility, and grinding—but now with a small victory to fuel his determination.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, a seed of an idea began to form. If he could accomplish this much in League of the Ancient, what might be possible in the new VR game everyone was talking about? Eternal Realms promised unprecedented immersion and opportunities for those with the right skills.
All he needed was a way in.