In the official livestream, Shen Chao—invited as a guest commentator—kept shaking his head.
"You guys call what I do 'immortal technique'? Then look at what Tu Bro is doing! That's the real immortal technique. Aside from the early Volibear, his plan was crystal clear—grab the belt first to streak, then stack Interest for economy."
"Then later he started rolling. Honestly, that took guts. At the time there was still only one Volibear left. If it were me, I wouldn't have chased it—I would've waited."
"But at that point, two-star Volibear wasn't strong enough anymore. If you kept going like that, you couldn't guarantee your HP. The best decision was to push level 9. Tu Bro chose to gamble on Volibear instead—that's what I didn't expect."
"I have to say, that decision was beautiful! Three-star Volibear plus a one-star Yasuo—highest board quality. He successfully sent Bicycle home. Otherwise, with Bicycle's comp, he might've stabilized and waited until his board fully capped."
Shen Chao gave extremely high praise.
Meanwhile, the chat spam scrolled like crazy.
"That's why Tu Bro is playing semifinals while Shen Chao can only sit at the caster desk."
"Shen Chao used to be top-tier too, but his game sense clearly can't keep up now."
"True. He's an entertainment streamer now. If it's real competition, he's still short. Just like Red Lotus—one got seventh, one got eighth."
"Tu Bro's game plan can be summed up in two words: dog luck."
"Based."
"Wait, this is semifinals. So many monsters here, and none of them can do anything about a guy who switched over halfway? What even is 'full-HP kun'?"
"With that full-HP kun, I can only say seventh and eighth aren't happening. Tu Bro is great at playing for points—if he lands in the tiebreaker round, he can still keep going."
"And then it's the knockout stage group battles. If this 'point god' gets smashed by SKT, how swollen will the keyboard warriors get?"
"Why are Annihilation and the others regressing the more they play?"
The official stream erupted into heated debate.
To put it simply—they couldn't accept it.
After all, Lin Fan hadn't played much Teamfight Tactics lately.
His focus had tilted entirely into Infinite Borders.
Plus, he had matches every day, and just the day before he'd played six straight games.
High-intensity competition, slaughtering on stage… and then he comes to TFT semifinals and immediately seizes the initiative.
A full-HP first place? What the hell was this?
What were these supposed "big shots" even doing?
People couldn't accept what they were seeing.
In fact, Annihilation and the others were completely stunned.
All seven of them had held the pool. There should've been only one Volibear left outside.
In that situation, if you see it, you take it—deny the three-star.
But no one would spend money specifically searching for that last Volibear.
Yet Tu Bro spent gold rolling for it—probably a lot of gold.
If he didn't hit, he'd be doomed.
Even if he hit, pushing level 9 afterward would still be hard.
But unbelievably, the UI still showed he had fifty gold worth of interest.
And he still hit three-star Volibear.
Not only that—he also found a Yasuo.
How do you even explain that?
It felt like ten thousand horses stampeding through their minds.
Bicycle, especially, was furious.
His comp was half-capped: two-star Xayah and two-star Shyvana.
He could fight anyone on the board.
Then out of nowhere, a three-star Volibear appeared and smacked him out in three slaps.
An eight-thousand-HP Volibear.
If Xayah could keep firing, there was a chance…
But Volibear's thunder smacked twice and wiped the entire backline.
His damage kept rising, his HP kept rising.
Bicycle got sent home and simply couldn't accept it.
It just had to be him—the three-star Volibear matched into him.
The gap was too outrageous.
If things were "normal," even if he couldn't stabilize into first, there was no way he'd be sent out by someone in eighth.
Then he looked at chat calling him a "unlucky egg," and he felt even more wronged.
"Two-star Shyvana, two-star Xayah, and I get sent home by eighth. Who do I complain to? Who can I complain to?"
Bicycle joined the room wearing a mask of pain.
With all players in place, Game Two was about to start.
At that moment, a thought flashed through many minds:
No way… is Tu Bro actually going to qualify?
That first full-HP kun was like a divine soldier descending from the heavens.
So absurd it defied belief.
"See? TFT is easy. Just roll. Leave the rest to the system. The system knows what to do."
Lin Fan gave the camera a thumbs-up.
Chat immediately erupted again.
"Only one copy left and you still pull it out with twenty gold. Of course it's you."
"Damn it, they always say dog-luck streamers won't go far. Why has Tu Bro slaughtered his way into semifinals?"
"Can we still call it dog luck? This is ancestral smoke rising from the graveyard!"
"Keep watching Tu Bro perform. I feel like something big is coming."
"Same. Something terrifying is about to happen—an LPL pro representing China at the TFT TOC3 global finals."
"What the hell… just thinking about that is terrifying."
The chat was noisy—some supported him, some didn't—but Game Two had already begun.
Unlike before, Lin Fan couldn't take a big loop to grab a belt.
He ended up crowded with Yuntian and Apostate around attack speed.
No matter what, grabbing attack speed first was still great.
Guinsoo's Rageblade is useful in almost every comp.
Nidalee reroll, Xayah, Volibear, Corki…
Though Corki really needs three-star to have a shot at first place.
Otherwise, at best you're just playing for points—only high-roll games can support it.
A comp with two four-cost units being that bad was something nobody expected.
No one would ever aim for Corki on purpose unless augments forced it with Cannoneer support.
Most of the time, you wouldn't choose it.
Three people contesting a single attack speed—Lin Fan's mouse clicks practically caught fire.
Tick-tick-tick—he brought out the speed a pro should have.
In the end, he barely beat them to the attack speed.
With attack speed in hand, his options opened up.
If he wanted to winstreak, he could slam Rageblade early and let Nidalee carry.
And sure enough, he immediately saw strong pieces: Gnar, Skarner, Vladimir, Nidalee.
After PvE, he even naturaled a two-star.
It looked like Nidalee might be a high-roll start.
Then he got a Shapeshifter augment.
In that case, he could go 6 Shapeshifter Nidalee.
Lin Fan thought for a moment—fine, he'd gamble it.
In this set, rerolling Nidalee was relatively easy because Astral helped with hits.
Generally, if you spend the gold, three-starring is doable.
If you still can't hit, you should wash your face and reflect on what awful, bitter things you've done lately—because you're getting punished.
Once he committed to Nidalee, his early board wasn't strong enough.
The main issue was that it was hard to level.
And since he'd have to fight for attack speed later anyway, he simply chose to lose-streak.
But Apostate played even dirtier.
Not only did he open-fort—he went full empty board.
He snapped Lin Fan's loss streak, and Lin Fan instantly went numb.
He should've hit fifty gold after PvE.
But after that, he only reached forty.
That swing was eleven gold.
After PvE, even if he rolled down, he only had fifty-two gold.
Up top, once people saw Lin Fan rerolling Nidalee—especially a one-cost—they immediately held two-star copies to block him.
Even with 39 copies of a one-cost in the pool, that still adds pressure.
But Lin Fan rolled incredibly fast.
His choices were decisive—every coin went toward Nidalee.
Because he knew the difference between hitting first wave and second wave three-star was massive.
If he lost this round and took another ten-plus damage, his margin for error would collapse.
His first-person view looked ridiculous.
Just rapid-fire beeps.
One card snapped in, another snapped in—over and over.
Your eyes couldn't even keep up.
In the blink of an eye, he had eight Nidalees on the bench.
Of course, his gold was gone too.
Because so many copies were being held, he had to rely on Astral hits each time.
Then, right as the battle horn sounded—
The last Nidalee appeared.
He sold Vladimir, snapped the unit in, and instantly combined:
Three-star Nidalee!
He also finished Giant Slayer.
With three-star Nidalee plus 4 Shapeshifter, he successfully stabilized.
He had rolled all his money away, but his board quality was more than enough now.
In this situation, he could stabilize completely, slowly rebuild economy.
His priority now was Nidalee's third item: Quicksilver.
This set had a lot of crowd control.
If Nidalee couldn't stack Rageblade, there was a real chance to flip.
So the items had to be complete.
The hardest part would be getting a Sparring Gloves, but with low HP, he'd have a good chance to grab it in the second carousel.
Later, magic resist items would be less contested unless it involved key five-cost units…
And if he still couldn't get it, he'd just try to roll it from Treasure Dragon.
"Damn, I thought Tu Bro was only winning with dog luck, but after that roll-down… I don't think anyone's faster than him in TFT."
"Look at Shen Chao's face—impossible. Absolutely impossible."
"Hahaha, Tu Bro's rolls were unlucky, but the good part is he's fast enough to still hit three-star."
"I can only say he's in the money. Whether he can get first depends on how early Shyvana shows up. If Shyvana comes early, push 9, go 6 Shapeshifter and add a few five-costs—this one's another first."
The players all knew it too, but there was nothing they could do.
With Nidalee online—4 Shapeshifter, two god-tier items—losing was hard.
Then at level 6, he found a Neeko and hit 3 Jade, and the pressure dropped even more.
He winstreaked thirteen straight rounds before Dragonslayer Olaf finally snapped the streak.
But by then, it didn't matter much.
At level 8 he found Shyvana.
From there, he just pushed toward 9.
As long as no monster board appeared, first place wasn't hard.
His HP was healthy enough to keep upgrading.
Once he hit 6 Shapeshifter, the HP totals would be absurd.
If he then found a two-star Soraka, it would be basically guaranteed.
Lin Fan didn't rush.
He leveled to 9 slowly.
When he had thirty gold to search, he just pushed 9.
His luck wasn't insane—only two Sorakas appeared.
But the comp was complete.
Two-star Shyvana with perfect items, three-star Nidalee as cleanup.
Soraka to refill HP later, plus Second Wind—the strongest Shapeshifter sustain.
Then, in back-to-back rounds against Apostate, he won through higher margin of error and secured a second straight first place.
At that moment, everyone realized something was wrong…
Something was seriously wrong.
Two straight chickens! Sixteen points!
At this pace, even if it's not top two, it's definitely top six.
There was no way he was going home directly.
"Holy crap, Apostate and Annihilation—do something! If Tu Bro takes first and qualifies, I'm numb."
"Why can Tu Bro get two straight firsts? This is TFT, not a solo queue 1v1! How are you all getting slammed into the dirt?"
"I can only say that roll-down was too insane. If he hadn't hit three-star in time and bled out, there'd be no margin to go first later."
"There's a case. There's really a case…"
Everyone thought that in a semifinals like this, Tu Bro would have no room to perform—one-and-done.
But reality shocked them.
The sky was falling.
You can't say there wasn't targeting—they held plenty of copies.
And he still hit three-star anyway.
How do you reason with that?
Game Three started quickly.
But many people had already shifted their focus to second place advancement.
After two straight firsts, Lin Fan had sixteen points.
Second place, Apostate, only had eleven.
The gap was large.
Chasing from behind would be very hard.
So shifting goals now was the smart move.
If you really can't catch up, at least avoid seventh or eighth.
This isn't finals, after all.
So in Game Three, Lin Fan didn't get targeted much.
He played far more comfortably than the first two.
He still contested units fiercely with everyone, though.
But luck remained on Lin Fan's side.
Two-star Xayah came online—stabilized.
After pushing 9, he found two-star Shyvana.
Done.
Three straight chickens.
Everyone watching felt numb.
No one expected today's storyline to go like this.
Tu Bro was crushing seven TFT streamers.
Shen Chao was having the time of his life on the caster desk.
The harder the players on stage got beaten, the wider his grin became.
Sure, I didn't make it here—but I also didn't get smashed by Tu Bro.
"At this rate, Tu Bro might actually five-chicken."
"His form is insane. It's genuinely possible."
The three casters were just enjoying the chaos.
The bigger the mess, the happier they were.
The chat spam kept flying.
Game Four began.
When everyone thought he'd get four straight firsts, Lin Fan started messing around.
Right in front of everyone, he played Shimmerscale Cannoneer.
Printing gold and items was fun, but the board strength was just too weak.
In the end, it still lost to Jade Level 9 legendaries and Adventure Xayah.
So he only took third.
But he was still first overall in points.
Annihilation took first in this game, at least letting the TFT streamer squad save a little face.
But the embarrassment was already huge.
Three straight chickens had slapped them in the face.
The hype was sky-high—yet the League pro took three firsts…
Game Five.
PvE dropped a Daeja!
Lin Fan immediately knew what he was going to play next.
Adventure Daeja.
No Fireworks emblem? Then just play Adventure Daeja.
He leveled to 7.
Two-star Daeja arrived uninvited.
That familiar trajectory made the chat spam question marks again.
What the hell—what is Daeja's deal?
It kept coming before, and now it's happening again.
So this game was smooth to a terrifying degree.
With no one targeting him, he easily took first.
Four firsts and one third—thirty-eight points total.
A dominant Group A first-place finish, advancing to finals!
TL: If you want to read ahead by at least ten chapters, patreon.com/EdibleMapleSyrup