CS: I’m Only 16, and You Want Me to Stage an Old Veteran Comeback?

Maybe he had slept too long. His body wasn’t tired, but his head still felt a bit groggy.
Fortunately, the Asian RMR was already over, so being a little out of it didn’t matter much.
Jiang Yang climbed out of bed as sunlight slipped through the gaps in the window, telling him what kind of weather Shanghai had today.
Something suddenly came to mind. He grabbed his phone, which was charging by the bedside, and unlocked it. The first thing he saw was a system notification from the 5E app: “An old horse in the stable still dreams of the open road—Steel Helmets defeats VG and successfully advances…”
Jiang Yang didn’t bother clicking in to read more, but he still let out a sigh of relief.
Everything felt too surreal. At times, it even gave him an odd sense of detachment from reality.
Thinking back on his tournament journey over the past few days, it felt like he had fallen into the most wonderful dream.
Just two months ago, he had been a carefree soon-to-be college student, with nothing to worry about except what to eat and where to have fun.
Now, he was one of the most promising prodigies in CS:GO, with a chance to showcase his skills on the biggest stage.
No helping it. Seemed like it ran in the family. He handled alcohol better than Ma Xixi, at least—one sip and that guy turned into a red-skinned duck. Absolutely ridiculous.
Since they had already secured their Asian RMR slot and had no matches today, training didn’t have to be rushed.
Jiang Yang unlocked his phone and casually browsed the forums.
And what he saw nearly made him jump.
After beating VG yesterday, Steel Helmets’ global ranking had been updated—they had officially climbed to 88th place in the world.
The ranking was still low, but for Steel Helmets, this was a massive leap forward.
After all, they had been stuck outside the top 300 for years. Now, they had broken into the top 100—that was huge.
Jiang Yang scrolled to the comment section of the Asian RMR finals. The very first comment left him speechless:
"From now on, all domestic teams should face Steel Helmets first. If you can't even beat them, don’t bother going international."
Below that, the replies were even wilder:
"Welp, guess Steel Helmets is our only hope now. With Cousin’s skill, what team in China could even match him?"
"You think the Steel Helmets' prince is just sitting around doing nothing?"
"Steel Helmets has officially become CNCS’s quality control checkpoint."
The attacks kept coming.
"If Tyloo and VG can’t even beat Steel Helmets anymore, they might as well disband."
"Honestly, this is disappointing. Year after year of training camps, only to get stomped by a bunch of ‘Old Veterans’ from Steel Helmets."
"Even MO was struggling in his livestream yesterday—he's losing faith in CNCS."
"Eh, at least we have Cousin."
"Tyloo and VG just remind me of those ‘glorious defeats’ over the years. Cousin, on the other hand, gives me flashbacks to 2018 Tyloo."
"At this rate, the true heir of Tyloo is actually in Steel Helmets."
Chinese fans weren’t actually against Tyloo or VG—they were just frustrated by their lack of progress.
Every time they mockingly used the phrase “glorious defeat,” they weren’t celebrating—they were hoping the teams would finally step up and make a real breakthrough.
But Tyloo and VG had let them down again and again.
They once believed 2018’s Tyloo would mark the rise of CNCS.
Instead, that was the peak.
And the same players from that 2018 Tyloo roster were still the ones carrying CNCS forward today.
For Chinese CS:GO fans, this helplessness and frustration were hard to accept.
Jiang Yang didn’t really know what to say about the state of CNCS.
He knew that Chinese players were passionate about CS:GO and truly wanted to succeed.
But esports was cruel—if your skill wasn’t good enough, there was no way around it.
And he had thought about this before—CS:GO isn’t a solo game.
Even if he was carrying hard, winning the Asian RMR still required DD to step up.
One person couldn’t do it alone.
That was why Jiang Yang was seriously considering what his cousin had suggested: after this RMR, he would go train with a European team for a while.
At the very least, he could learn academic-style tactics and patch up his weaknesses.
Then, he’d push himself further to explore his true limits.
As for the current state of CNCS, that wasn’t something he could fix. And it wasn’t his job to.
Just as he was about to get up, a notification popped up from Bilibili.
Someone had messaged him.
He instinctively clicked in, only to realize it wasn’t just one message—his entire inbox was flooded.
Then, he remembered—last night, while they were eating, Ma Xixi had been in a great mood and told him to open a personal account to connect with fans.
Jiang Yang didn’t think much of it and casually sent Ma Xixi his Bilibili handle.
Turns out, Ma Xixi posted a selfie of the two of them at dinner, tagged him, and funneled traffic his way.
Now, after just one night of sleep, his account had almost 5,000 followers—and the number was still skyrocketing.
Jiang Yang hadn’t expected this at all.
He glanced at a few comments:
"Cousin, you’re amazing! Carrying Steel Helmets to qualify was insane!"
"Cousin, can I get a digital autograph? For the memories!"
"No time to explain, Cousin—you’re the chosen one today!"
But most of the messages were tagging him to watch a video.
Without hesitation, he clicked the link.
Instead of the usual “Betrayed Theme Song” meme, the link led to a CS:GO analysis video.
"International Community in Shock: Young is China’s S1mple. If he joins Tyloo, they might finally break history."
Jiang Yang played the video.
The opening shot showed a foreign CS:GO analyst displaying RMR stats—Jiang Yang’s insane 1.78 rating stood out like a landslide victory.
Then, a new post from NIKO appeared—he had screenshotted Jiang Yang’s A1 pre-aim clip on Mirage and commented:
“Young’s pre-aiming is incredibly satisfying to watch. If he keeps this up, I’ll nominate him for this year’s ‘Rising Star’ award.”
In the replies, someone joked:
"When is Tyloo signing him?"
Another response stood out:
"He doesn’t need to go to Tyloo. If his English is good, I’d recommend him to an international team."
"Young is already Asia’s best AWPer."
Jiang Yang kept scrolling, feeling pretty satisfied.
Domestic fans had watched his rise and gradually warmed up to him.
Foreign fans, on the other hand, had suddenly seen a new name dominating the RMR stat sheet, and were completely shocked.
Of course, not everyone was a fan.
In a discussion thread, some skeptics chimed in:
"You Asian fans hype players way too much. Young just played one RMR against low-tier competition."
"Seriously. They’re acting like he’s beating S1mple and ZywOo. It’s just an RMR."
"Plus, this was an online event. Who knows if he was using ‘something suspicious.’ Once it’s LAN, he might be exposed."
"Put him against real top teams, and he might not even break even on K/D."
Jiang Yang didn’t get mad.
He knew not everyone was going to like him.
But seeing these comments only made him more determined.
They thought he’d choke at the Major?
They thought he wouldn’t survive against top teams?
Fine.
He’d clear every hurdle and turn these haters into fans.
Now, that would be fun.