The road to Ikeja was another trial on its own. We were cramped into the back of a danfo bus, our knees constantly clashing with each other with every pothole we hit on the Third Mainland Bridge. The heat was stifling—the smell originating from food hawkers outside the windows mixed with the nervous sweat from four boys heading out to do battle.
Femi sat by the window, staring off into the distant crowd and clutching his bag close to his chest. Inside were his laptop, his mouse, his phone, and his headset. To anyone else, it was just a phone and a laptop, but to him, it was "his lifeline"—it was what determined if he would be able to achieve his dreams or stay back in Nigeria.
"Three million naira," tunde whispered, bouncing his leg up and down. "Guy, if we manage to win this, I'm going to buy a PS5. No, a PS6."
"Focus," Femi said, observing the lagoon rushing below them. "Don't spend money you don't have."
"Let him dream; there's no harm in that," Bayo said, adjusting his fake Gucci cap. On the outside, it may have looked like he wasn't bothered by the coming battle, but if you observed the toothpick in his mouth, he had chewed it into splinters that were sticking to his face.
"We are going to rush them. They do not know the meta," Bayo said with an arrogant look on his face.
"They know enough. They are not a bunch of randoms that you will meet in clash squad lobbies. These are pros with even sponsorships from different parts of Nigeria—people with actual matching jerseys and stuff like that. So it's not going to be easy."
He looked at his team. Tunde was wearing a faded polo shirt that had a few holes in one or two places. Bayo was wearing knockoff designer clothes but still looked a bit decent, while little Chi-chi was in his school uniform, trying to look professional for the event. They looked like exactly what they were: a ragtag group of players from a local café.
Little Chi-chi hadn't even said a word since they got on the bus and left from Gbagada. He had just been tapping on a screen consistently throughout the whole journey, in a silent ritual. Tap, tap, tap.
Practicing...
He is the key, Femi thought. If he falters, we all go down.
The driver slammed the brakes, yelling curses at a black sedan that overtook them wrongly. They almost had an accident then and there. But aside from that, the whole journey was smooth.
"We are dropping here!" Femi yelled to the bus conductor as they reached the Ikeja underbridge.
They stepped into the madness of Computer Village. It was a sensory assault: thousands of people, blaring music, and hawkers asking the guys if they wanted to swap or buy new phones.
Femi politely ignored all the people trying to sell their wares and headed straight for the venue. He knew its location.
They were unconsciously walking in formation.
Falling into the roles Femi had set for them: Femi in the front (IGL), Bayo striding slightly ahead (Entry), little Chi-chi sticking close to Femi's shadow, and Tunde watching their backs and keeping a lookout for pickpockets and thieves.
They turned at a corner, and there it was.
It was not a small café; it was a massive building covered in banners like energy drink posters and Indomie advertisements. To say the least, there were even sponsorship banners from major tech companies like Tecno and Infinix. A giant LCD screen outside was displaying the replay of an earlier match. The voices of the broadcasters boomed, making the whole place vibrate with anticipation.
"Welcome to the Battle of Lagos! This is where high stakes meet high rewards on the battlefield! I hope you all are ready, because I'm pretty sure we are," the caster screamed into the mic.
Crowds of teenagers and adults were filing outside. Some were wearing matching red and black jerseys with clan logos. They were all holding high-end gaming phones with cooling fans attached to the back of them. Some of them looked professional, some of them looked dangerous, and some of them had a little bit of both.
Tunde swallowed hard. "Femi... Those guys have iPads. We are playing on Tecno. How the hell are we supposed to win? How are we even supposed to qualify?"
Femi adjusted his shades. He felt fear rising, the imposter syndrome trying to take hold, but at that point, he saw something on the giant display.
He saw a player rush without cover. He saw a sniper miss an easy shot.
Inefficient, Femi thought.
All the fear vanished, replaced by the cold, unforgiving hum of his analytical senses.
"It does not matter what they play on," Femi said, adjusting his backpack. "Hardware does not fix bad strategy and skills. Let's go."
The event center in Ikeja was freezing. Industrial air coolers were blasting at full power for the 200 people and staff, but Femi was sweating.
They clawed their way through the qualifiers. It was messy—Bayo overextended twice, and Tunde somehow managed to throw his healing circle on a downed enemy. But Femi's strategy held. He got them into the finals, albeit barely.
But now he realized the qualifiers were just a conditioner—a warm-up for the true battle.
"Look at them," Tunde whispered to Femi, disgust and envy all over his face. "Are they here to play or fuck each other?"
The IGL of the opposing team was sitting across the room at a table carrying their gear. His alias was K-Dash. He sat at the center like a king on his unofficial throne, holding the latest Asus ROG phone equipped with aero cooling, which had RGB fans glowing like disco lights. But he wasn't even paying attention to them. He was looking at the girl perched on the armrest of his chair.
Viper.
She was also wearing a matching jersey, tied up to show her midriff. She wasn't just sitting next to him; she was draped all over him. Her hands were busy twisting his dreadlocks while she whispered something into her man's ear that made him smirk.
"Babe, hurry up…" she didn't even care that the mics in front of them were amplifying her voice for the whole auditorium to hear. "I have a nail appointment at 4 PM. Let's not allow these randoms to waste our time, you know," she pouted, her tone laced with mocking venom.
K-Dash laughed, leaning back into her touch. "Don't worry, babe. I'll make sure I get your appointment with the prize money we win."
He kissed her knuckles right there on the stage, earning the cheers and jeers of everyone in the arena.
Femi felt really irritated at their arrogance. Treating Three Million Naira like it was money for candy. Treating the finals like it was some date.
"Focus," he said to his team. He saw Bayo staring at Viper like candy and Tunde looking like he wanted to barf on the stage. "Ignore the drama and study their loadouts."
"Strategy can't help you with 60Hz refresh rates, darling…" Viper sneered at Femi, finally sitting in her chair but still holding K-Dash's arm. She picked up her pink iPhone 16 Pro Max. "Let's finish this quickly, babe."
"For you. Anything…" K-Dash replied.
A voice boomed in the arena: "Welcome to the Finals! Today we had an unexpected entry from the qualifiers: The Gbagada Titans! They made their way to the finals to challenge Team Zenith in a best-of-seven rounds match. Who's going to take home the W? Let's find out!..."
3... 2... 1... GO!...
ROUND 1
"Standard spread! Bayo: bait. Chi-chi, hold the cover and protect Bayo," Femi rang out orders to his team.
Bayo ran out, activating his speed, but before he could even take a few steps, Viper zigzagged out of the corner and released a shot from a Desert Eagle.
Prakk!
Bayo was knocked…
"Nice shot, babe!" K-Dash said, blowing her a kiss in-game through an emote.
"They're so slow. It's like shooting tied-up chickens in a field, for real."
They rushed at Femi's team, using impossible zigzag techniques and fluidity, wiping out his team with relative ease.
Score: 0 – 1
As the round ended, Viper whispered something into K-Dash's ear, making him smile and grab her thigh…
"Get a fucking room! Rabbits!" Tunde shouted across the stage, feeling frustrated.
"Win a round first, little man," K-Dash said without even looking up.
ROUND 2
"Tighten up the formation. Move as a unit into the warehouse. Stay close range and try to negate their sniper's advantage," Femi said, trying to ignore the drama happening across the stage.
It was a good strategy; they caught one of the enemies alone. Chi-chi beamed him a quick scope to the face, knocking the opponent easily.
"He's down! Finish the kill!" Chi-chi yelled.
But then K-Dash arrived at the scene, packing heat. He didn't use any cover.
Just erratic movement and laser precision with his MP40.
Femi tried his best to track him, but his hardware wasn't good enough. His phone stuttered for a micro-frame, and in the next moment, K-Dash was at his back.
Another team wipe.
Score: 2 – 0
It was so disrespectful when Femi left Viper to finish the kills.
The crowd was even laughing at them.
It wasn't a match. It was a public execution.
"This is actually boring," Viper said genuinely. While she rested her head on K-Dash's shoulder as she waited for the next round to load, she asked, "Can't we just forfeit them? I'm hungry…" She said this while rubbing her tummy.
Femi looked at his team.
It was a mess.
Tunde was shaking. Bayo was raging. Chi-chi looked terrified.
"Guys, relax. We just need one round. One round to break their momentum. Chi-chi, let's run the Breaker strategy. You're with me."
ROUND 3
Femi and Chi-chi rushed out together.
The opponents were hiding behind their walls, expecting Femi to camp.
Chi-chi unleashed his sonic wave, shattering their protection. At that same moment, Femi blitzed forward, releasing a flurry of bullets at Viper's head, instantly knocking her.
"Babe! Help!" she screamed at K-Dash.
Instead of assessing the situation and standing his ground, he rushed at them, thinking things would go the same way.
He was greeted by the muzzle of Bayo's shotgun straight to his face.
While Chi-chi sniped the remaining opponents.
"Let's fucking go!!!" Rude yelled, hugging Chichi who seemed flustered..
Score: 1 – 2
ROUND 4
Their hope was short-lived, though. K-Dash wasn't smiling anymore. He stopped touching Viper. He put on his microfiber finger sleeves and sat up on his chair.
"You touched her... Now you die..," he growled into the microphon to hear.
They all had AWMs. All of them. Four snipers.
They held angles that were impossible to peek without getting shot at. They stopped flirting and started slaughtering Femi and the rest.
Femi tried smoke tactics, but K-Dash predicted his movement cleanly through the smoke. Viper rushed the flank; her movements were like she was speed hacking.
DEFEAT
Score: 1 – 3
The screen turned grey. It was match point for Team Zenith. One more loss for Femi's team and it would be over.
Femi took off his headset. The roar from the crowd was deafening, but it was muted by the sound of his own heartbeat.
Across the table, Viper and K-Dash were back all over each other. She was massaging his shoulders, whispering praise into his ear. They were already celebrating.
"We can't beat them... They're just... too fast. We can't shoot what we can't see, na," Tunde whispered.
Femi looked at the score.
1-3
He looked at the prize money hanging above them.
N3,000,000
It was slipping away. The Harvard tuition.
The visa fees. The escape velocity from this life.
It was all dissolving because he was using a Tecno to fight an ROG.
Input / Output
Problem: Hardware disadvantage causes latency and reaction speed drop.
Solution: Stop reacting and start predicting.
But to do that, he needed speed.
Something he didn't have.
"Bayo," Femi said, his voice cutting through the team's panic. "Give me your phone."
Bayo blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because yours has a slightly better processor than mine," Femi said, extending his hand. "And for what I'm about to do... I'll need every frame I can get."
*******
To be continued..