Liyue's Internet cafe thrummed past midnight—its night service a lifeline stretching into the witching hours, 300 rigs aglow with Counter-Strike's chaos—and Ganyu, bird sniper in hand, stood as a qilin storm amid the Warehouse map, her Steyr Scout a whisper of death in her grip.
The bird sniper gleamed—lighter than the AWP, its power slimmer, demanding headshots for instant kills, a trade-off Ganyu embraced with her archer's soul—and its cheap cost and swift heft suited her, a tool honed by her qilin precision, her funds lean but her aim a boundless vault.
Round one flared—Warehouse loomed, its crates a jagged maze, pipes snaking overhead, the bandit camp's stronghold a fortress of shadow—and Ganyu defied logic, "No defense—I strike," her voice a breeze as she bolted from the gate, her teammates' jaws dropping, "She's rushing?!"
Cops strategized—clambering up containers to the roof, "Distract 'em—then breach," their plan a thread—and Ganyu emerged, a silhouette against the steel, her bird sniper cracking, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 2," a cop tumbling mid-climb, his shock a silent scream.
Reload snapped—faster than AWP's lumbering heft, her barrel swung—and as bullets pinged back, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 1," another fell, her retreat a blur behind a container, sparks showering as the trio's fire chewed metal, her calm a qilin's grace under siege.
They faltered—"Sniper's a monster—fall back!" their retreat a scramble—and Ganyu peeked, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 3," a third dropped, her flashbang arcing to blind the last, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 4," "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 5," thirty seconds to annihilation.
Bandits won—five shots, five kills, a massacre etched in Warehouse's dust—and Ganyu's screen glowed, her teammates blinking, "What… just happened?" their awe a tremor, Hu Tao cackling nearby, "Ganyu's a sniper god—Ningguang's toast now!" her glee a wildfire in the cafe's din.
Confusion reigned—the cops raged, "Who is this?!" their screens gray, while Ganyu's crew groaned, "She's too good—leave us a crumb!"—their pleas a chorus, "Don't end it so fast!" one slumping, "I'll just camp—useless here," their game hijacked by her qilin might.
Her bird sniper ruled—AWP's bulk shed for agility, "Headshots are all I need," her logic a blade—and Warehouse trembled, her seven-round spree a blitz, the fourth not done before foes fled, "No point—retreat!" their wails a dirge, "She's inhuman!"
They quit—"I'm out—Mom, save me!" one sobbed, another cursing, "Immortal sniping? I'm done!"—and Ganyu's teammates bailed, "No fun winning like this," their exit a sigh, leaving her alone, her lavender eyes blinking, "Did I… overdo it?" her innocence a stark foil to the carnage.
Liam laughed—"Hah! Ganyu, you've shattered them—foes and friends alike!" his mirth a spark as she scratched her head, "It's… not that great," her modesty a veil over a talent that'd make pros in his old world sweat, her sniper's soul a qilin storm unleashed.
Not great?—the routed cops would've choked, "Trash? Us then!" their pride dust under her heel—and Liam mused, "A night's practice, and she'd rival Earth's best," her bird sniper a bow reborn, her aim a legacy of Morax's wars now carving Teyvat's LAN.
Room emptied—Ganyu took host, "Five's too few," her curiosity a flicker as she upped it to twenty, rigs filling fast—and Tartaglia, Xingqiu, Chongyun, and Keqing joined, "Hell's here," Liam grinned, a gauntlet where her foes faced a qilin's wrath, their fate a coin toss.
Warehouse reloaded—twenty souls spawned, hostages trembling in its depths—and Ganyu, bandit again, gripped her Scout, "More targets, more precision," her calm a mask over a demon-god's thrill, her teammates whispering, "She'll wipe 'em—pray we're with her."
Action flared—cops stormed the front, "Rush—overwhelm her!" Tartaglia barked, his M4 blazing—and Ganyu perched atop a crate, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 7," his Harbinger bravado snuffed, "What—how?!" his screen graying as she swung, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 8."
Keqing flanked—"A-long—cut her off!" her AK47 rattling as Ganyu leapt, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Keqing," the Qixing's lightning stilled—and Chongyun held pipes, "Cover—steady!" his burst wild, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Chongyun," his ice no match for her fire.
Xingqiu darted—"Roof—flank her!" his pistol popping—and Ganyu spun, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Xingqiu," his quill stilled, "A qilin sniper?!" his awe a gasp as she ducked, bullets sparking, her flashbang blinding three, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 9, 10, 11," a trio felled.
The cafe roared—rigs blazed, melon-eaters shouting, "She's unstoppable!"—and Hu Tao crowed, "Ganyu—team up! Bury Ningguang!" her glee a spark, Ganyu nodding, "I'll try," her AWP swapped back for Scout, its heft a dance she'd mastered in minutes.
A subplot twisted—Ganyu's gentle facade hid a warborn edge, her desk centuries a lie beside this thrill—and Tartaglia cursed, "She's a Fatui nightmare!" his Fatui pride dented, Keqing musing, "Work's tame next to her," their Teyvat roles flipped in this digital dust.
Ningguang spawned—"Snipe her—now!" her P90 cracking as Ganyu perched, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Ningguang," the Tianquan downed again—and she growled, "Too precise—inhuman!" her geo mind racing, a rematch vowed as Ganyu's tally climbed, "12… 13…"
Emotion surged—Ganyu's joy pierced her duty, a qilin's peace undone by battle's call; Hu Tao's fire found a twin, her rivalry paused for awe; Liam's grin hid pride, his cafe a forge for Teyvat's bold—and Warehouse shook, their saga a blaze in the night's glow.
Chongyun rallied—"Regroup—hold!" his M4 a shield as Ganyu flanked, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Police No. 14," his calm cracking, "She's everywhere!"—and Tartaglia respawned, "One more—I'll camp!" his sniper countered, "Ganyu (Scout Headshot) Tartaglia," his roar a futile blaze.
Liam watched—Ganyu's kills soared, her laugh a chime—and he mused, "A sniper god born—Liyue's ace," his den a crucible, Tier Harribel murmuring, "She fights like a hollow—swift, relentless," her teal gaze tracing a qilin's reign in this pixelated war.
Ganyu reloaded—"Hostages safe… more to go," her resolve a whisper, the cafe's pull a tide she'd ride—and Hu Tao grinned, "All night, Ganyu—twenty's yours!" their bond a flame, her sniper's soul a dawn breaking over Liyue's endless LAN sprawl.
***
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