This is the turning point! Jake's playstyle is so clinical that it's catching the eye of professional players. I've localized Zhang Yu to Jake and kept 259 (the "Human-Bot" IGL) and Ju (Moseyuh) as they are the real-life core of that Rare Atom roster.
Chapter 6: The "Human-Bot" and the God-Tier Entry
Round 1! Warm-up over.
"Someone push Long with me, I'll flash you in," 259 said, his voice flat and calm. Seeing he had a good spawn for Long A, Jake keyed his mic. "I'm with you."
He bought light armor. The second the freeze time ended, he switched to his knife and sprinted toward A-Main. 259's flash popped perfectly behind him. Jake peeked Long, cleared the corners, and moved toward the pit. "Long is clear. Watch B," Jake called out.
The words had barely left his mouth when the kill feed in the top right went nuclear.
[Tutu killed Pineapple_128 with a P250 (Headshot)] [Tutu killed Lakers_Fan with a P250 (Headshot)] [Tutu killed Steve with a P250]
In five seconds, the entire B-site defense was erased. Not a single trade. Jake sighed. Another game where I have to drop 50 to win? Fine. Call it 'weighted training.'
He held A-Main for a moment before rotating back through CT Spawn. A Terrorist tried to catch him off guard, but Jake's pre-aim was already there. Click. One tap. Jake was playing differently now. He wasn't just pugging; he was practicing. Every corner was cleared with pro-level intent. Every movement was calculated. His rating might have dipped slightly from his "reckless" days, but the quality of his gameplay was now terrifyingly high.
259 had rotated back to CT Spawn, seemingly waiting to group up with Jake. But before they could meet...
[Tutu killed 259 with a P250 (Headshot)]
One vs. Four. Thanks, ELO system. You really want me to suffer, Jake thought.
Rare Atom Training Room.
"Uh... he peeked B-door. He has the kit," 259 muttered, leaning back and rubbing his eyes. His teammate, Ju, suppressed a grin. Seeing your captain get one-tapped by a random in a Rank S pug was always a little funny. "If you're tilted, just stop," Ju said. "We should go over that scrim demo anyway." "Yeah... after this game. Let's eat, then review," 259 replied helplessly.
He wondered if he'd finally lost it. Was he really getting washed out in Rank S? No, I'm just tired from the Mongolians, he told himself. He looked back at the screen to spectate the last guy left—the guy named 'Boston_NiKo'.
After a few seconds, 259's brow furrowed. "Whoa..." "What is it?" Ju leaned in. "Ju, look at this guy's POV. It's... it's so smooth."
Ju started spectating too. He expected a typical pug star, but what he saw was a CT moving with the robotic precision of a Tier-1 pro. The crosshair placement was locked onto the head-level line. As Jake moved from CT Spawn toward the B-site sandbags, a flashbang flew out from the site.
Jake flicked his mouse 180 degrees the exact millisecond the flash appeared, dodging it perfectly, then snapped back. Two Terrorists peeked simultaneously—one from B-door, one from the "doghouse."
Before they could even click their mice, Jake fired two shots. Two flicks. Two headshots. "Holy crap, he's fast!" 259 exclaimed. Ju's eyes widened. "Two one-taps. Is this a 'Demon King' smurf?" "I haven't checked his profile yet. I'll do it after the clutch."
It was a 1v2 now. Jake had the kit. He pre-aimed B-door, then checked the back of the site. He swung wide toward the "dead corner." Pfft! One shot, one kill. He instantly flicked toward the "White Car" corner, but realized his mistake—the last guy was at the sandbags, rotating from Mid.
Just as the pros watching thought it was over, Jake flicked left with impossible speed. Pfft! The last Terrorist dropped. Five shots. Five kills. An ace with 100% accuracy.
"GOD TIER!" "You're the real NiKo, bro! That was insane!" The other teammates were screaming in their mics. Jake's game sense wasn't perfect, but his mechanics—the pre-aiming, the flicks—were a mirror image of the Bosnian superstar.
"Is this real?" 259 looked at Ju. "Check his account. Is it Starry or someone from Tyloo?" "Doesn't sound like them," Ju replied. "His voice is different. Check his stats."
259 tabbed out to Jake's profile. His jaw dropped. The match history was a solid wall of green. Every rating was a masterpiece—1.3, 1.5, even a 2.0. His average was 1.71. "Who is this? A week ago he was C+... what the hell? Is this a pro using a relative's account to smurf? This is ridiculous."
Neither of them even considered cheating. In high-level CS, you can tell the difference between a "script" and a "skilled player." Jake's movement, the way he cleared angles, his fluid transitions—that wasn't a bot. That was a master at work.
"I can't tell who it is," 259 said, confused. The profile comments were just people calling him a cheater, which 259 ignored. "Just ask him in game," Ju suggested. "Right."
259 went back to the game. But before he could open his mic to talk to Jake, the chat box at the bottom began to scroll with rage from the enemy team.
[Enemy] Tutu: "CHEATER! NMSL! YOU MOTHERFER!"*