The Man They Threw Away
**I asked if you're free tonight. I need a temporary jungler for a practice set. Eight hundred for the night, paid even if we lose.**
Another message followed.
**No camera, no real name. The haters can yell at me.**
Chenzhou looked at his balance.
**Send the address.**
At eleven that night, Lin Wanzhao pulled out a chair for him in a west-side studio crowded with keyboards and monitors. A streak of silver ran through her bangs, kinesiology tape crossed her left wrist, and 1.8 million viewers filled her livestream.
"Emergency practice partner," she told the camera. "A ranked ladder player. Call him Little Zhou."
**Which pond did you fish him from?**
**Mask means he's pretending to be a pro.**
