Liyue's Internet cafe glowed under the midnight sky—its 300 rigs a constellation of chaos and light, the night service a pulse that stretched its soul into the witching hours—and Liam ushered Ganyu through the doors, her qilin grace a soft contrast to the clamor within.
A scene flared—Tier Harribel's teal eyes flicked to Liam as he entered, her voice a low hum, "Trouble's brewing, my lord—I'll handle it," her hollow queen's calm a steady thread, and Liam nodded, "Let's see it," guiding Ganyu toward the commotion with a curious grin.
Ganyu's gaze roamed—the cafe's sprawl unfurled, lanterns casting a warm haze over rows of screens, the air thick with soda fizz and snack rustles—and she paused, her lavender eyes widening as Hu Tao, Tartaglia, and Xingqiu munched on treats, their stares locked on a unfolding drama.
A couple stormed the floor—slippers in one hand, a feather duster in the other, their son cowering under a rig as the mother roared, "You ungrateful brat—what time is it? Still not home?!" her fury a whirlwind, the duster cracking, "A week skipping school—I'll end you!"
The son wailed—"Stop, it hurts—I'm sorry!" his pleas a desperate chord amid the thrashing—and Liam smirked, a nostalgic echo of his old world's cafe busts, parents snagging truants, a ritual as old as dial-up, though here in Teyvat, it gleamed with fresh novelty.
Tier Harribel glanced at Liam—her hollow poise faltering, "This… I don't know," her signal a plea for guidance—and he shrugged, "Next time, usher them out—keep the peace," his order crisp, Harribel stepping in, her presence a quiet storm that shooed the trio away.
No guilt pricked him—the night pass barred minors, and this grown fool's beating was his own harvest—and the melon-eaters dispersed, Hu Tao crunching a chip, "Good show—back to Ningguang!" her rig flaring as Tartaglia taunted, "Mid's mine, cowards!" their games resuming in a blink.
Seats opened—teens fled, fearing their own slipper-clad fates—and Ganyu claimed an all-night slot, her 600 mora a key to the cafe's glow, her screen a portal as Keqing and Ningguang gaped, "Ganyu? Here?" their shock a ripple, Liam's grin a silent boast of his sway.
Zhongli exhaled—his geo gaze softening, "She's earned this—millennia of service," his relief a stone smoothed by time, his retirement a dream where Ganyu might shed her contract's weight, a rest he'd nudge her toward in this digital den of respite.
Ganyu fumbled—"How do I… play?" her fingers hesitant on keys, her mouse a foreign beast—and Liam coached, "Mouse aims, keys move—simple," his words a spark she caught, her qilin mind, honed by centuries of scrolls, grasping it in a breath, a half仙's wit unleashed.
Her bow mastery gleamed—arrows her trade, firearms a kin—and Liam nudged, "Try Counter-Strike—sniper's your style," his hunch a bet on her precision, Ganyu nodding, "Like Fatui muskets," her screen flaring as she spawned, an AWP cradled in her virtual grip.
Practice beckoned—she opened a bot match, Dust2's sands her proving ground—and Liam watched, jaw slack, as Ganyu's crosshair danced, "Ganyu (AWP Headshot) Bot 01," "Ganyu (AWP Headshot) Bot 03," her shots a qilin's grace, each kill a whisper of her demon-war past.
Bots fell—five rounds, no misses, her Desert Eagle flashing for close kills, "Ganyu (Desert Eagle Headshot) Bot 02"—and she mused, "Sniper's far, pistol's near—same as arrows," her insight a blade, her aim a legacy of Morax's battles honed anew.
Zhongli's finesse outshone her in automatics—his god's micro-twitch a marvel—but Ganyu ruled single shots, her AWP a bow reborn, "Only Mondstadt's Diluc might match me," her quiet pride a flicker, the Darknight Hero a rival she'd never met, yet sensed in this game's echo.
Bots bored her—"Enough practice," her voice a breeze as she joined a live lobby, Warehouse her stage, hostage mode her test—and she spawned bandit, her AWP a sentinel, her teammates gaping as she rejected defense, "I'll strike—qilin don't wait," her war-blood stirring.
Action erupted—she bolted from the gate, AWP raised, "They won't expect this," her calm a facade over a demon-god's fury—and cops swarmed, "Ganyu (AWP Headshot) Police No. 1," her shot a thunderclap, a cop crumpling mid-charge, her teammates shouting, "She's insane!"
Warehouse loomed—its crates towered, shadows pooling in dim corners, the air thick with dust and tension—and Ganyu weaved, "Ganyu (AWP Headshot) Police No. 2," her scope a qilin's eye, a second foe falling, her pace a dance through the map's cluttered sprawl.
A cop flanked—"Close—pistol!" her Desert Eagle snapped, "Ganyu (Desert Eagle Headshot) Police No. 3," his rush a folly against her reflex—and Hu Tao cheered, "Ganyu's a beast—snipe with me!" her glee a spark, pulling the qilin into her orbit.
The cafe pulsed—rigs blazed, melon-eaters gawked, "She's a sniper god!"—and Tartaglia paused, "Outshooting me? Hah!" his M4 firing as Zhongli mused, "Her war lives yet," his geo gaze tracing her rampage, a legacy reborn in this glowing den.
A subplot twisted—Ganyu's gentle shell hid a warrior's heart, her desk centuries a mask for battle's thrill—and Liam grinned, "She's hooked—work's lost her," his nudge a seed, her shots a bridge from Liyue's scrolls to Dust2's dust, a shift he'd sown.
Ningguang countered—her cop spawned, "AWP her—now!" her P90 cracking as Ganyu ducked, "Missed me!"—and their duel flared, "Ganyu (AWP Headshot) Ningguang," the Tianquan falling, her gasp a jolt, "Too fast—too good!" her pride pricked by qilin aim.
Emotion surged—Ganyu's joy clashed with duty, a qilin's peace pierced by thrill; Hu Tao's fire found a rival, her glee tempered by awe; Liam's calm hid triumph, his cafe a crucible for Teyvat's souls—and Warehouse trembled, their saga a blaze in the night.
Xingqiu watched—"She's a legend—pen this!" his quill itching as Chongyun flanked, "Cover her—steady!" his M4 a shield, Kaeya's taunt, "Ice meets fire now!"—their clash a storm, Ganyu's AWP a spear, "Ganyu (AWP Headshot) Police No. 4," her reign unbowed.
Liam leaned back—Ganyu's kills ticked, her laugh a rare chime—and he mused, "A sniper born—Liyue's gain," his den a forge, Tier Harribel's nod a hymn, "She fights like us—grace in ruin," her teal gaze tracing a qilin's rise in this pixelated war.
Ganyu reloaded—"One more… hostages safe," her resolve a whisper, the cafe's pull a tide she'd ride—and Hu Tao crowed, "All night, Ganyu—Ningguang's next!" their bond a flame, her sniper's soul a dawn breaking over Liyue's endless night.
***
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