The next day at the internet cafe was quieter than usual. Everyone noticed Alan, now regarded as the best player of cafe regulars. However, his new guest was a mystery.
Alan sat across from Balls at a corner table, a notepad between them filled with scribbles of champion names, strategies, and match notes. Balls tapped his pen against the table, waiting as Alan organized his thoughts.
Alan leaned forward, his tone steady and deliberate. “Balls, you’re a beast on Malphite and Cho’Gath. You’re holding lanes, setting up plays, and carrying teamfights. No one can argue with how effective you are.”
Balls grinned, joking back. “I know I'm the best. Tell me more.”
Alan returned the smile but quickly sobered. “But let’s talk about what happens if that’s all you play.”
Balls raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean those champs are great, but they’re simple—mechanically, anyway. You know what to do: hold your lane, crowd control in fights, and tank damage. It works, but what happens to your mechanics long-term if you never practice anything harder?”
Balls frowned, spinning his pen between his fingers. “I see where you’re going. You’re saying I’m gonna stagnate.”
Alan nodded. “Exactly. You’re good now, but if we’re aiming higher—pro-level, even—then you need to keep your mechanics sharp. Tank champs won’t push you enough. You should use solo queue as a training ground, not just a grind for Elo.”
Balls scratched the back of his head. “Alright, coach. What do you have in mind?”
Alan flipped to a fresh page in the notepad, jotting down two names: Gangplank and Nidalee. “These.”
Balls leaned forward, reading the names. “Gangplank I get—barrels, kiting, mechanics. But Nidalee top? Isn’t that a troll pick?”
“Right up your alley then,” Alan said, smirking. “But seriously, her mobility, poke, and split-push potential are insane if you know how to use her. Both champs are tough to play but rewarding. You’ll improve your mechanics way faster playing them and you'll learn how to carry without just being a tank.”
Balls whistled, leaning back in his chair. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. Time to break out the barrels and spears. But what about you, Mr. Scaling Monster? What’s your plan?”
Alan exhaled, leaning on the table. “TSM exploited me in the finals. They banned Morgana, and I had no backup. Sure, I can Kassadin or Veigar my way through most games, but when those get banned, I’m toast.”
"Not to mention, Kassadin is not really a blind-pick champion against good midlaners. You saw how Regi kept me under tower with Annie and TF. Honestly, he could have done the same on Ezreal and Tristana too."
Balls nodded. “True. We need to expand your pool. What are you thinking?”
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Alan grinned, flipping the notepad to a page already marked with two names: Zilean and Anivia.
“Zilean and Anivia?” Balls said, tilting his head. “You want to go even more scaling?”
“They’re not just scaling,” Alan explained. “Zilean has map utility with his speed and revive, and his Double Bomb stuns are clutch if timed right. And Anivia? She’s the queen of zone control. A well-placed wall or ultimate can shut down entire teamfights.”
Balls crossed his arms. “Yeah, but Zilean’s bombs are tough to hit, and Anivia’s early game is rough. You’re already a slow starter, and now you’re making it worse.”
Alan shrugged, smirking. “I’m a slow starter who wins late. Might as well lean into it. Besides, every tough game I grind out on these champs makes me better.”
Balls grinned. “Alright, then. Let’s both dive into solo queue. We can even stream while we are at it. You on Zilean, me on GP. I just feel sorry for our teammates.”
----------------------------------------
The hours flew by as the two grinded solo queue. Alan focused on Zilean, struggling at first to hit clean Double Bomb stuns. His early mistakes led to more deaths than he’d like, and his Chronoshifts were often a second too late to save a teammate.
By the third game, though, things began to click. Alan chained a Double Bomb onto the enemy mid and jungler, securing a crucial Dragon. In another game, he predicted a gank and baited it, only to Chronoshift himself at the last second, turning the fight in their favor. The faint pulse of his system confirmed his progress.
Micro Mechanics +1
“Not bad,” Balls said as they loaded into their next game. “But Zilean’s still kinda cringe. Ready to bust out your bird?”
Alan rolled his eyes. “You’ll see.”
----------------------------------------
Switching to Anivia proved even more challenging. Her deliberate pace demanded precision, and her fragile early game punished every mistake. Alan missed several Crystallize walls early on, letting enemies escape or failing to block crucial paths.
But as the night progressed, his confidence grew. In one match, he walled off an enemy jungler from his team, turning a bad skirmish into an easy Baron. In another, he used her ultimate, Glacial Storm, to zone the enemy ADC out of a fight entirely.
Balls laughed as an enemy mid-laner typed “nice wall bro” in chat after being funneled into a turret. “Dude, you’re evil.”
Alan smirked. “Scaling late.”
----------------------------------------
As the clock ticked past midnight, the duo finally logged off. Balls leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright, coach. GP and Nid are a blast, but I’m still better on tanks.”
Alan chuckled, packing up his things. “You’ve got time. The point is to keep sharpening your mechanics. The tanks will always be there.”
Balls nodded. “And your bird and bombs? You sticking with those?”
“For now,” Alan said, his voice firm. “I’m not just aiming to win. I’m aiming to be unbannable. No team’s gonna know how to draft against me.”
Balls grinned, clapping Alan on the shoulder. “Keep that attitude. Next time, we’re taking it all.”
As they stepped into the cool night air, Alan glanced at Balls. Watching him embrace the challenge of expanding his pool, even joking about it, made Alan reflect. Balls wasn’t just a strong player. He was a great teammate. He listened, adapted, and never let ego get in the way of improvement. Those were qualities that could elevate not just himself, but their entire team.
Alan smiled faintly. “You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “I’m excited to see what you do with your new champs. If your Malphite’s terrifying, I can’t imagine what your GP barrels will look like once you’ve mastered them.”
Balls smirked. “Don’t gas me up too much, or I’ll start carrying harder than you.”
Alan laughed, shaking his head. “If you do, I’ll gladly let you. That’s what a team’s for.”
For all the teasing and banter, Alan felt a sense of camaraderie settle over him. Balls wasn’t just improving for himself. He was improving for the team. Alan felt truly lucky to share a team with a player like him.
“Next time,” Alan said, more to himself than anyone else, “we won’t just show up. We’ll dominate.”
Balls nodded, his grin matching Alan’s determination. Together, they walked into the night, the climb ahead of them feeling less like a burden and more like an opportunity.