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

Jiang Yang Roasts Himself on the Forums, Enjoying the Moment

Jiang Yang made a post on the forums roasting himself, joking that he was already feeling (completely satisfied and ready to retire).

He wasn’t much of a drinker, so he just sat there, sipping his orange juice while scrolling through his phone, reading all the messages flooding in.

Friends from the Chinese CS:GO scene, anyone who had his WeChat, had sent their congratulations.

His desk mate, Li Hua, was especially thrilled—so much so that he sent Jiang Yang a short video.

Curious, Jiang Yang clicked on it.

The video showed Li Hua recording his own Perfect World ranked match, but his shirtless roommate was completely AFK, staring intently at his phone—watching the final rounds of Steel Helmets vs. MR.

As Jiang Yang scored in the match, the entire dorm room erupted in cheers.

“No way… they’re actually about to close it out?!”

As the highlight clip ended, the camera panned back to Li Hua’s roommate, who had finally turned his attention back to his computer.

Excitedly, he started typing in the public chat—but his teammates and opponents had already beaten him to it.

Lakers’ Uzi IRL: "F**k, just two more rounds!!"

Life Exists Only for Sakurajima Mai: "God Yang is holding strong! Stickers incoming, I swear!"

Grandpa Niu from Tumbleweed Garden: "Don’t let them push it to overtime! Finish it 2-0!!"

Watching this, Jiang Yang felt something stir deep inside him.

So this is what it feels like—to carry the hopes of so many people.

These ranked warriors didn’t even care about their own matchmaking points anymore—they were all AFK, watching his match instead.

Sometimes, winning a ranked game matters.

But sometimes, it really doesn’t.

This… this was the beauty of esports.

—

It reminded Jiang Yang of IG’s 2018 Worlds victory in League of Legends. Back then, every dorm room in China was celebrating IG’s win.

Sure, CS:GO didn’t have the same mainstream popularity as LoL. There weren’t nationwide shouts echoing from every male dormitory.

But the passion from its fans? The way players poured their hearts into their game?

That was the same.

Just seeing people willing to pause their own ranked matches to watch Steel Helmets play—that was already an incredible honor.

And this was just a small glimpse into the state of CNCS right now.

Jiang Yang finally realized something—he had become a beacon of hope for CNCS.

But he wasn’t ready to carry that responsibility just yet.

First, he had to study in Europe.

He hadn’t even figured out his own future yet.

—

Li Hua: "Bro, You’re Built Different."

Li Hua: "Xiao Yang, you’re insane! You just solo carried a 1v4 into the Legends Stage! When you get back, KFC is on me!!"

Li Hua: "Dude, you’re actually a f**ing life winner. You’re good-looking, cracked at games, and you even got a picture with my idol NIKO. Bro, you should be illegal!"*

Jiang Yang chuckled and casually replied: "Quit whining. In a few days, I’ll ask NIKO to sign a mousepad for you. Want one?"

Now that he was a pro player, it was only right for him to help his friends score some perks.

As soon as Li Hua saw the message, he shot up from his bed and instantly called Jiang Yang on WeChat.

The moment Jiang Yang picked up, Li Hua shouted:

"Father, is this for real?!"

"Guaranteed, my son!!" Jiang Yang laughed.

But then he quickly added, "Just don’t go selling it online, or I’ll personally smack you upside the head."

"Relax, ‘Father!’ You know my family owns a gold mine—I don’t need the money!" Li Hua scoffed.

Right then, Li Hua’s dorm mates noticed he was video calling Jiang Yang.

One by one, they crowded around the screen, all greeting him excitedly.

—

“God Yang, How Do I Get Better at CS:GO?”

After some small talk, one of them, Wang Lin, asked, "God Yang, how do I improve in CS:GO? I’ve been stuck at Rank C+ for ages."

Every CS:GO player, after getting through the casual phase, eventually wants to rank up.

With CS:GO’s deliberate practice culture, most players at least try to improve.

Jiang Yang thought for a moment before answering seriously:

"Train your aim every day."

"Run through maps."

"Learn your utility lineups."

"If you want to climb, all you need to do is be better than the average player at your rank."

"And if necessary…" Jiang Yang paused.

"You could also try… abstinence. Helps with reflexes."

Wang Lin’s eyes widened. "No way. I’ve been abstinent for ages, and I don’t feel any different!"

Jiang Yang smirked. "You sure about that? Sounds like every day is just your first day all over again."

The entire dorm burst into laughter.

—

The Next Day: Stockholm Vibes

The next morning, Jiang Yang slept in like a king.

At one point, he half-woke up, groggy, thinking he still had a match to play.

It wasn’t until he checked his WeChat messages that he remembered—they had already secured the Legends Stage.

After getting up at noon, he grabbed a quick bite at a restaurant near the hotel.

Steel Helmets had earned a short break, and the team had planned to explore Stockholm together.

With their tournament goals already surpassed, the atmosphere in the squad was relaxed and cheerful.

At first, they had only expected to play one or two matches before getting eliminated. They came here thinking it’d just be a vacation.

But then, Jiang Yang dragged them past the limits, carrying them all the way back into the Legends Stage—securing their own player stickers in the game.

For them, this Major already felt like a championship celebration.

While everyone else was excitedly buying souvenirs for their families, Jiang Yang had somehow ended up as the team’s personal shopping cart.

Eventually, he couldn’t hold back his complaints.

"I knew I shouldn’t have come out with you guys."

MO just grinned. "Come on, we’re on break! We gotta take you out for fresh air, or Xixi will roast me for not taking care of you."

Jiang Yang’s logic was completely different from normal people’s.

"We’re on break, and you’re not letting me game? What’s the point of this vacation?!"

Brother Xiaosa burst out laughing. Turning to MO, he joked, "For us, playing CS:GO is work. For Cousin, it’s just pure addiction."

Thinking back to their own teenage years, MO and Xiaosa realized they were the same way.

Back then, they could spend entire weekends at the internet café, pulling all-nighters playing.

Pure passion.

"Okay, but if you game on your days off, what do you do on workdays?" Ming Riqing asked.

Jiang Yang replied with a dead-serious face:

"Obviously, I play tournaments."

CS:GO was his life, his only real hobby.

His friends were all in CS. He had no reason to go out.

His love for CS:GO was his greatest talent.

"You’re unstoppable," Xiaosa chuckled.

—

That night, exhausted from the day out, Jiang Yang finally recharged himself with a proper CS:GO session.

Meanwhile, the whole Steel Helmets squad gathered in their rooms to watch the next Major matches.

Astralis and Heroic—Denmark’s two biggest giants—had both choked in the early rounds, and Danish fans were losing their minds on the forums.

MachineWJQ, a die-hard A-Team fan, had multiple breakdowns during his livestream.

But in the end, A-Team still proved their strength.

They had a grueling final-round battle against Heroic, barely making it into the Legends Stage.

It was a nail-biting process.

With the Challengers Stage now over, eight teams had qualified:

• 3-0: Firefly, FaZe
• 3-1: Steel Helmets, ENCE, VP
• 3-2: A-Team, Mouz, Heroic

"I almost thought A-Team was going to get eliminated," DD joked as he looked at the results. "That was way too close. If they really got knocked out, Lucky would've been flamed to death."

As Denmark’s top team, A-Team carried the expectations of not just Danish fans but much of Europe.

Taking over device’s spot as their AWPer was no easy task.

"He’s already getting flamed!" Xiaosa laughed. "You just haven't been on Twitter. After every match, Lucky gets roasted."

"Well, he is playing terribly. His basic AWP shots aren’t hitting, and while he does land the occasional difficult shot, they don’t make much of an impact. Add in his lack of explosiveness, and the gap between him and device is massive."

Lucky’s performance in this Major was outright awful. He was consistently at the bottom of the scoreboard—disastrous for an AWPer.

Xiaosa nudged Jiang Yang. "And with you in the mix, A-Team’s fans are going berserk."

Jiang Yang couldn’t help but grin—this one wasn’t on him.

Both were rookies.

But while Jiang Yang dominated the Challengers Stage with a god-tier rating, Lucky barely hit a 1.0.

No comparison, no difference.

Danish fans weren’t expecting Lucky to be a generational talent. They weren’t asking for a 1.6 or 1.7 rating. Even a solid 1.2 would’ve been acceptable.

But Lucky’s stats were constantly in the red. That was unforgivable.

So, naturally, the forums were tearing him apart.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yang was the complete opposite—a 16-year-old prodigy with movie-star looks, who 1v4-carried a team into the Legends Stage.

He was now the brightest rising star of the Major.

Discussions had already started about which team he would join once his run with Steel Helmets ended.

Every fanbase wanted their team to sign this super rookie.

If they had Jiang Yang, they wouldn’t have to worry about future results.

Of course, there were skeptics too—some compared him to obo, predicting he would be a one-hit wonder.

After all, he was still just a kid. Expectations shouldn’t be too high.

"Who do you guys think will win the Major?" Ming Riqing casually brought up the topic.

As an ENCE fan, she naturally hoped ENCE would rise to the occasion.

But looking at their shaky form, it seemed hopeless.

"Feels like Red Star has a good shot," DD said. "They kinda remind me of peak Astralis. Even online, they were smacking NAVI around."

"Red Star, huh…" MO thought for a moment. "I still think NAVI has a better chance. Red Star’s roster is full of young players—if they make the Grand Finals, imagine tens of thousands of fans chanting in the arena. I’m not sure they can handle that pressure."

Red Star’s rise over the past year had felt almost fated.

They came out of nowhere, dismantling top teams left and right. Aside from their veteran Hobbit, their lineup was full of fresh names.

"I kinda want to vote for the Bees," Su Di grinned. "But they’re in the same boat as us."

The Bees, being one of the four biggest fan-favorite teams, were always in the spotlight thanks to ZywOo.

That alone made them a title contender.

But French CS was in a transitional phase. Outside of ZywOo, the rest of the team was in terrible form.

"So, Cousin, when you pick your next team, be careful," DD warned. "Don’t end up stuck in ZywOo’s Basement."

Jiang Yang’s skill level was undeniable. He had the potential to be a Top 20 player.

And everyone on Steel Helmets knew he wouldn’t be sticking around forever.

They all wanted his career path to be as smooth as possible.

Jiang Yang thought for a moment. "It’s too early to think about that. Let’s focus on how we’re going to play the Legends Stage first."

Hearing this, Xiaosa chimed in, "For Legends, let’s just set a simple goal—win at least one match. That way, we won’t feel like we made it here for nothing."

"Let’s just give it our all and enjoy the games," Jiang Yang replied.

He knew the Legends Stage was going to be brutal.

Winning enough matches to reach the Champion Stage with his four veteran teammates? Nearly impossible—unless everyone played in peak form.

But for him, every match was a learning opportunity.

He planned to make the most of it—absorbing everything he could from playing against Tier 1 teams.

Before the Legends Stage began, Jiang Yang was fully enjoying his short break.

And during this break, he decided to show what a true FPL demon looked like.

He grinded 10+ FPL matches a day, going full beast mode in most of them.

His playstyle? Pure chaos.

For him, ranked play was a vacation. He turned his brain off and hunted kills nonstop.

With kennyS-level reflexes, he wreaked havoc in FPL.

The pros he played against were miserable.

And as he kept playing, he started to understand why "30-year-old Jiang Yang" had stopped training.

Because raw talent alone was enough.

If you had a 100-point scale for CS:GO, "30-year-old Jiang Yang" could hit 90+ just off talent.

So naturally, he believed he didn’t need training anymore.

Why bother?

Practicing was tedious.

BOT drills were boring.

Crosshair placement, pre-aiming, recoil control—it was all repetitive and dull.

But Jiang Yang didn’t see it that way.

He was walking a different path.

He had already improved massively through hard work, and even if it was tedious, he could keep pushing forward.

Those highlight moments on the big stage?

They weren’t miracles.

They were the result of relentless, unseen effort.

And as he continued training, he noticed something else—

His Comeback Points in the system kept increasing.

Step by step, he was getting stronger.