"Parable 1: The mouse never twitched" A teammate once asked 超人 what DPI he used. 超人 just dragged his mouse in a slow figure-eight across the desk, eyes closed. “You don't choose DPI,” he said. “You let it reveal itself in the turn radius of your soul.” "Parable 2: The Silo Jump" Outside Nuke, the wind was loud. CTs posted deep garage, scoped. A round you're not meant to live through. 超人 climbed silo in silence. No shift key. No footsteps. Just momentum. He stared down at red box... Too far. Always has been. But he didn’t crouch. Didn’t stutterstep. He leaned into the strafe like it was destiny and took off— One smooth jump, air-carved with perfect mouse rhythm, hands at rest, mind clean. He landed on red with a soft scuff. No damage. No hesitation. The awper holding from hell blinked—and instantly died to a flying Tec-9. They checked the demo. Silo to red. Full jump. No bind. No crouch. “I don’t measure distance,” he said. “I just move where I’m supposed to be.” "Parable 3:The Line Through Time" In the eighth round, they rushed mid— five forms in perfect error. 超人 stood at connector, still as stone, AWP in hand. He did not flick. He did not scope again. He saw the line, and he released the shot. Five fell. One bullet. The server stuttered, unsure what had happened. Some say he aimed. Others say the shot was older than the round itself. He only said: “I did not fire. The path opened, and the round ended.” "Parable 4:The meeting of Author and 超人" Author was a name woven into the fabric of the game— a legend who never sought the spotlight. His creations, his movements, were the unspoken law. No videos, no streams, just whispers in the shadows, his craft passed through the hands of those who knew. He had shaped the very rhythm of the game. And in his world, he was untouchable. One day, in a quiet match on Mirage, Author dropped into the game, no fanfare, no expectations. He walked through mid, bhopping with precision, his fingers moving like the air was his to command. But then, in the blink of an eye, he saw him— 超人. A name unknown, but his presence was undeniable. 超人 moved through the map like it bowed to him. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation, just the perfect flow of a master who had long transcended the rules. Author watched, his hands still, as 超人 glided through mid, leaving destruction in his wake. Each jump was a prayer, each flick a decree. The enemy fell before him, as if they had no say in the matter. The round ended, and Author stood, unmoving, his mind grappling with what he had witnessed. This was no ordinary player. This was something else. Something... beyond. Later, as the match faded to its conclusion, Author typed, his fingers hesitant on the keys: “How do you move like that?” 超人's response arrived as if it had always been known: “I do not move. I simply follow.” And in that fleeting moment, Author understood. He had carved the path, but 超人— 超人 was the one who embodied it.
"Parable 5:The Origin of 超人" 超人 is a name spoken in hushed tones, a legend whose origins are shrouded in myth. The stories are many, but the truth is elusive— each version stranger than the last. Some say he was born in the heart of an ancient mountain, where the winds whispered secrets, and the earth itself was his guide. Raised by spirits of speed and grace, he learned to move before he could walk, his every step a dance with the elements. When he first touched the mouse, the map seemed to bend in his favor, as if the very game recognized him. Others claim he was found in the midst of a storm, a child of lightning, his movements as swift and unpredictable as thunder. Raised in the ruins of forgotten cities, he learned to navigate the chaos, his reflexes honed to perfection. When he entered the battlefield, the enemies were not players—they were mere obstacles. And then there’s the tale of him emerging from the depths of the digital void, an orphan of the servers, drifting from one game to the next, until he found his home in the world of Counter-Strike. A quiet figure, he spent years in the shadows, perfecting his craft, until one day he appeared— and no one could match him. No matter the tale, one thing is clear: 超人 is no mere player. He is an enigma, a being who moves as if the game is woven into his soul. No one knows where he came from, or how he became what he is. But those who encounter him are left with one undeniable truth: he is beyond the reach of mortals. "Parable 6: The Meeting of 超人 and the Struggling Bhopper" The young bhopper struggled, his movements rigid, his strafes lacking flow. He watched 超人, who glided across the map with an elegance that felt almost unnatural. Every hop a masterstroke, every movement a brush of artistry. The boy tried to follow, but his jumps fell flat. 超人 noticed, his eyes steady. “You rush for speed,” 超人 said, his voice calm, “but you do not move with grace.” The boy frowned, still confused. “What do you mean?” 超人’s eyes never left the game as he responded. “Movement is not mere action—it is a language. To move well, you must move with purpose. With style. Each jump, each strafe, must be an expression of the self.” The boy hesitated, then tried again, this time slower, more deliberate. He focused on the rhythm, on the way his movements felt rather than how fast they were. 超人 glanced back, nodding slightly. “That is the path. True movement is not just about speed—it is about presence.” With that, 超人 drifted into the game, leaving the boy with the lesson: movement is not just for crossing distances, but for leaving an impression. "Parable 7:The Silent Mastery" A group of bhoppers gathered at Mirage, focused on the impossible leap: from Bench to Bricks. None had succeeded. Then, out of the shadows, 超人 appeared, his presence silent, almost unseen. They watched, unaware. He moved towards the Bench, but something was wrong— he was facing away from the ledge. A gasp rippled through the group as they realized he was jumping backwards. In his hand— a P2000. Not a knife. The disbelief was palpable. He leapt. Backwards through the air, his path as smooth as water, his timing flawless. He landed on the Bricks,as if it were the most natural thing. Without a second’s pause, he bhopped through Ladder Room, vanishing like a wisp of smoke. The others stood in stunned silence, knowing they had just witnessed the impossible.
