Shu Yuxin couldn’t really be considered a hardcore otaku.

If being “otaku” were defined simply as “liking to stay at home and not go out,” then she could be called one. But once all the complicated otaku subcultures were taken into account, she was far from qualified.

She didn’t have much exposure to two-dimensional culture, belonging to the type who knew a bit but didn’t go deep. If she really had to name something she was more familiar with, it would probably be Kantai Collection—and that was only because several years ago she had been misled by who knows whose nonsense about the game being “very casual.” Thinking back now, she really wanted to curse: “What a load of bull.”

Compared to anime and the like, Shu Yuxin liked games much more, and her range was quite broad. She had played most kinds—single-player and online, PC and PlayStation. The only ones she hadn’t touched were Xbox and Switch, simply because she didn’t have the money.

Because of that, she didn’t really understand the topics Peng Xiaoxiao and the chubby guy were chatting about, nor could she join in. The stuff on the table only caught her attention briefly before she lost interest. Figures like Gundams looked pretty and cool, but if you didn’t know the stories behind them, they were just that—pretty and cool. A few of the military models were fairly well made, though, such as a Leopard 2A6 tank and a USS Missouri battleship placed at the very edge. Back in high school, Shu Yuxin had also bought a USS Missouri model, intending to finish building it and then place her phone in front of it to try some mystical “ritual” for pulling a miracle in the game—but unfortunately, nothing came of it.

That model was still sitting in her bedroom back in her hometown, but the person who had once loved it had already grown up and lost that passion.

Suddenly slipping into a sentimental mood, Shu Yuxin sighed softly for her bygone youth. Seeing that Peng Xiaoxiao and the chubby guy showed no signs of stopping—if anything, they seemed to be reaching some kind of mutual understanding—she figured she wouldn’t be needed anytime soon. She looked around, picked a random direction, and slowly walked off.

She planned to wander around other places by herself.

Compared to the center of the plaza, the club recruitment booths around the outskirts were much quieter. Still, there were a few that were just as lively as those in the center—for example, the gaming club.

Shu Yuxin stood by the gaming club for a while.

She remembered that when Peng Xiaoxiao had asked her to come, she mentioned that this school had a gaming club. Clubs related to video games like this one weren’t very common these days. Although the country had developed rapidly in many aspects in this era, the mindset of the parents’ generation hadn’t kept pace with social progress. Many parents still naturally viewed video games as a scourge, completely unable to see any benefits in them, and therefore were unwilling to support their children’s involvement with games. Even now that the esports industry was gradually becoming more legitimate, this attitude showed no sign of fading. More open-minded parents were one thing, but with more conservative ones, if a child said they wanted to work in esports in the future, they’d probably get beaten half to death.

Universities weren’t particularly strict in this regard, but they were still influenced to some extent. Clubs centered on video games sometimes couldn’t even get their applications approved. The reasoning was simple enough: a gaming club—wasn’t it just a bunch of people playing games together? How was that any different from an internet café?

Shu Yuxin understood this quite clearly, so when she heard that this school had a gaming club, she had been a little surprised.

Now it seemed that not only did the school have a gaming club, it was actually quite popular.

The crowd surrounded the gaming club’s tent three layers inside and out. Standing on the outside, Shu Yuxin couldn’t see what was going on inside, only occasionally hearing bursts of laughter and sporadic cheers from the crowd.

They were probably talking about some game. From the fragments she caught, Shu Yuxin guessed it was either Honor of Kings or League of Legends.

She didn’t like MOBA or RTS games, nor did she have any talent for them. She had tried League before, but the result was getting completely crushed by AI in the tutorial—after that, she never touched that type of game again. Hearing that everyone seemed to be talking about those kinds of games now made her feel a little disappointed.

She had thought a gaming club would be the kind where you could freely play all sorts of big games.

“Hey, miss… are you thinking about joining a club?” A man’s voice suddenly came from behind her. Shu Yuxin turned around and saw a fat guy.

He wasn’t that fat—at least better than the chubby guy from the model club earlier. Of course, it might also have been because he was taller; even with the same width, he looked more proportionate. His hair was a bit long for a guy and slightly messy. He wore a white tank top, floral shorts, flip-flops, and carried a bottle of C’estbon water. He leaned slightly as he looked at Shu Yuxin. His earlier tone had sounded a bit slick, but his expression was extremely serious—almost too serious.

“Ah, I’m just looking,” Shu Yuxin said instinctively, taking a step back.

The fat guy raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, looked at her for a moment, then glanced at the gaming club’s tent. Leaning forward slightly, he lowered his voice and asked, “Judging by how you were staring at the gaming club in a daze, do you like playing games?”

“It’s alright. I like them quite a bit.”

“What kind of games do you like?” He still wore that serious expression. Perhaps realizing the question was a bit abrupt, he added, “I’m just asking—maybe I can give you a suggestion on which club to join.”

After thinking for a moment, Shu Yuxin chose to answer honestly. “I like single-player titles more. I’m not very interested in the popular online games these days.”

“Single-player titles? What level counts as a big single-player title to you? Lots of games call themselves masterpieces nowadays—you’re being way too vague. Give me some examples.”

Shu Yuxin found him a bit amusing.

“They’re not necessarily masterpieces. I just try whatever I’m interested in. I’ve played on both PC and PS—stuff like Uncharted, for example… and I occasionally play online games too.”

The fat guy lifted the hem of his tank top to wipe off his sweat, not caring whether doing that in front of a girl would ruin his image. After wiping his sweat, he grinned. “Nice. You even play PS. There aren’t many girls like you these days. Want to join our club? We’ve got a ton of games—consoles, PCs, all kinds of high-end stuff. Guaranteed to satisfy you.”

“The gaming club?” Shu Yuxin glanced back at the tent behind her.

The fat guy shook his head. “Of course not. Let me tell you—this so-called gaming club barely has anyone who seriously plays games. It’s just a bunch of normies showing off their relationships, shoving PDA in your face all day. Even I’m sick of watching it. Our club is called the ‘Esports Entertainment Club.’ The recruitment spot is over there. Come with me.”

With that, he turned and walked toward the outskirts.

Shu Yuxin stood where she was for a moment, thought it over, and then followed him.