Li Ming was, by all accounts, a man destined for mediocrity.
He was not rich. His apartment was a shoebox stacked on top of other shoeboxes, with thin walls that allowed him to hear his neighbor's dog bark at three in the morning. He was not handsome, unless you considered "slightly above average in good lighting" to be handsome. He was not popular, either. The last time someone had texted him was his internet provider, and it wasn't even a friendly message—it was a warning about late payment.
At twenty-six years old, Li Ming had already mastered the art of being a disappointment.
Or so society believed.
Because in his own eyes, he was something far greater: a genius strategist shackled by the chains of an ordinary life.
-----
The alarm rang at seven, though Li Ming had already been awake since five, staring at the ceiling and contemplating if the gods of fate had conspired against him.
"Why was I born into the body of a salaryman?" he muttered, dragging himself off his stiff mattress. "Surely, someone of my intellect was destined to command armies, rule empires, or at least direct traffic in a very strategic manner."
His reflection in the bathroom mirror did not agree. Puffy eyes, hair that defied combing, and the kind of stubble that made him look less rugged and more "forgot to shower."
By nine o'clock, he was seated in his gray cubicle at the insurance company where he worked. The cubicle walls were decorated with nothing but sticky notes—half reminders to pay bills, half grandiose quotes like "A true general never reveals his strategy!"
"Li Ming!" A roar echoed across the office. His boss, Mr. Zhao, approached with a stack of documents. "These reports are late again! Do you think the company runs on your brilliance alone?"
"Yes," Li Ming whispered under his breath. Then, louder, "Apologies, sir. I'll get right to it."
His coworkers smirked, whispering. To them, Li Ming was the quiet guy who muttered to himself and sometimes laughed at his own thoughts. To Li Ming, they were mere NPCs in his daily life, programmed only to file papers and gossip about office romances.
As he typed away, his mind wandered to grander things.
If only life had stats and levels, he thought. I'd max out Intelligence and Charisma, leave Strength at zero, and become the mastermind pulling the strings behind every empire. I'd be remembered as Li Ming the Great, the man whose strategies shook the world!
"Li Ming," his boss said again, slapping his desk. "You're typing on a calculator."
Li Ming looked down. Indeed, he was.
"...A tactical error," he said solemnly.
-----
But at night—ah, at night!—the world transformed.
Gone was the tired office drone. Gone was the man scolded for late reports.
The moment Li Ming booted up his computer and donned his cheap, slightly cracked headset, he became someone else entirely.
The screen glowed. The login screen for Eternal Conquest Online appeared. His guild chat lit up with messages.
[Guild Chat]: Strategist! We need you for the raid tonight!
[Guild Chat]: Master Li Ming, only you can lead us to victory!
[Guild Chat]: Please don't ditch us for a date again…
Li Ming cracked his knuckles, grinning. "Fools. Dates are temporary. Glory is eternal."
His character—MasterStrategistLi—loaded into the game. A robed figure with no real combat power, but equipped with buffs, debuffs, and the uncanny ability to shout orders.
"Alright, troops!" he declared into voice chat, adjusting his mic like a general surveying a battlefield. "Today, we face the Dungeon of Screaming Bones! Remember my three golden rules of warfare: Rule One, never underestimate the enemy. Rule Two, always listen to me. Rule Three—uh, Rule Three is classified."
His guildmates chuckled nervously. They were used to this.
The raid began. A hundred skeletons poured out of the dungeon gates, swords rattling.
"Hold the line!" Li Ming shouted. "Retreat in three… two… one!"
"Retreat?" one of his guildmates gasped. "But we just started!"
They fell back reluctantly—just as the skeletons exploded. The ground where they'd been standing seconds ago turned into a fiery pit.
"Genius!" someone cried. "He knew it would explode!"
Li Ming, who had only shouted "retreat" because his cat stepped on his keyboard, grinned smugly. "Of course. All according to plan."
The raid continued in this fashion. Every time Li Ming made a panicked order or accidentally misread the map, the guild interpreted it as a masterstroke of tactical brilliance.
"Charge left!" he yelled, when in fact he had meant to say "right."
The left path led them to a hidden boss chamber filled with treasure.
"Unbelievable," the guild whispered. "He sees through the very code of the game itself."
Li Ming leaned back in his chair, basking in the admiration. Ah yes. At last, the world recognizes my genius. It doesn't matter if my real life is miserable. Here, I am the General, the Mastermind, the Oracle of Victory itself!
-----
Hours passed in a haze of glory. By midnight, the raid was over. The dungeon was cleared, loot distributed, enemies vanquished.
"Strategist," said one guildmate in awe, "how do you do it? Every time we doubt, your plan succeeds. You're a genius!"
Li Ming muted his mic and laughed like a maniac. "Genius! Genius! Hahaha! Yes, say it again!"
Unmuting, he said calmly, "It's simple. Where others see chaos, I see the threads of fate. Now, my comrades… sleep well. Tomorrow, we conquer again."
He logged out, chest swelling with pride.
Li Ming stood from his chair, fists raised. "Who needs emperors or kings? I, Li Ming, office drone by day, am the greatest strategist alive!"
He spun dramatically, intending to strike a pose. Unfortunately, his foot caught on the cable of his headset.
"Strategy requires balance!" he cried, flailing.
Balance, alas, did not answer his call.
He toppled forward, head colliding with the edge of his desk with a loud crack.
Pain shot through him. His vision blurred.
"W-wait… no, this is… this is just a tactical feint, right?" His thoughts grew frantic. Yes, that's it! A tactical retreat from consciousness. I'll respawn in the morning. Haha… yes… all according to plan…
Darkness consumed him.
His last coherent words were whispered into the silence of his messy apartment:
Victory… always… mine…"
And just like that, the greatest "strategist" of Eternal Conquest Online fell—not in battle, not at the hands of a rival, but to the deadliest foe of all: poor cable management.
.
.