Chapter Five: Livestream Room Number drz02825

There was no ecological pod aboard the Bright Mirror, so Huang Yunshuo didn’t dare to stay in the game for too long; otherwise, it would damage his brain and body. That was why he had logged out early.

“Get out here, you bunch of idiots! Still playing? Want to drop dead right now?”

From the observation deck on the second floor, Huang Yunshuo used his authority to delete all messages about the stellar particle storm from the ship’s systems, then roared into the all-ship broadcast.

With his repeated shouts, the second level of the ship gradually became lively.

“Huang, are you looking for death? I was just about to kill a chicken!”

An angry, exasperated voice sounded. A cabin door slammed open, and Jin Xiong—built like a bear—burst out with a single stride, seizing Huang Yunshuo by the neck and shaking him fiercely.

“I’m finished! This damned game is killing me!”

“Is Skynet trying to mess with us? I worked for over three hours and only killed one chicken, and I couldn’t even keep the experience!”

One by one, everyone emerged from their cabins, each looking more dejected and frustrated than the last.

“Out of my way.”

With a casual wave of his hand, Huang Yunshuo sent the two-hundred-pound Jin Xiong flying like a sack, landing him heavily on the floor.

“All right, enough noise. Most of our time now needs to be spent in the Second World. Sister Yin, please assign everyone’s duties,” said a man with large glasses, pushing up his frames.

This was Li Nan, the ship’s think tank and a veritable encyclopedia of all things—whether in the real or virtual world, there seemed nothing he didn’t know.

“I suggest we always have someone on watch aboard the ship,” Huang Yunshuo said, recalling his own experience with a lingering unease.

Though the particle storm’s effects on him weren’t immediately apparent, the enormous ‘gift’ he received in Reforged Era made him feel the consequences would not be so simple.

“Huang’s right. Until the Bright Mirror’s mainbrain is fully repaired and able to handle most affairs independently, at least one of us nine should remain on duty in the real world,” said a sly-looking man, his arm around a petite young woman, his eyes wandering over her with obvious intent.

Chen Juanfeng and Song Na—the same Chen Juanfeng who had urged Huang Yunshuo aboard earlier—were responsible for ship maintenance, supplies, and meals, acting as the group’s housekeepers.

Huang Yunshuo eyed the pair warily. “You two, don’t fool around in the ship when you’re idle. We still need to log into the game regularly.”

Ever since they’d become a couple, they’d been inseparable, always glued together. Huang Yunshuo worried that the two combined might not be as useful as anyone else, distracted as they were by their amorous pursuits.

“Brother Huang, what are you talking about! We’re not like that!” Song Na replied shyly. Petite and charming, she enjoyed teasing remarks, much to the infatuation of the simple-minded Chen Juanfeng. Trusting her would be foolish, Huang Yunshuo thought.

“Huang, have you finished collecting the samples from the meteorite?”

Yu Shiyin’s gentle and melodious voice sounded. Her hair fell just past her neck, and though she was nearly thirty—the former captain’s daughter—she’d made clear that management of the Bright Mirror was a shared endeavor. Still, Huang Yunshuo regarded her as the captain.

“I’ve already detected several types of ore. I’ve placed them all in the workshop. Li Nan, Shengsheng, you two go take a look. Junzi, you help them out,” Huang Yunshuo replied with a smile. “Sister Yin, I’ve roughly surveyed the meteorite. The big one beneath probably contains a significant amount of tough iron. That alone means we’ve made a fortune this time!”

“Really?”

Everyone brightened immediately. Tough iron was a scarce resource aboard the ship, needed for hull repairs, mainbrain restoration, and even the Bright Mirror’s mecha.

“I’ll go with you! Everyone, rest for about an hour before logging in again—don’t forget,” Yu Shiyin said, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she hurried off to the workshop with Zhao Shengsheng, Li Nan, and Chu Jun.

“Huang, there’s a post on the forum about a player from Light Zeus No. 4 who’s already reached level two,” said a long-legged woman lounging on the sofa. Slender-waisted and full-bosomed, her delicate features were accented by a rosy mouth and a swan-like neck. Her voice was clear as she spoke.

“That’s normal. There are always prodigies everywhere,” Huang Yunshuo replied absentmindedly, opening his photon tablet. “There are probably quite a few level-two players already. By the way, how many chickens did you kill?”

The long-legged woman’s lips curled in pride. “Three. I always managed to land the finishing blow at the right moment.”

Huang Yunshuo nodded with satisfaction. Piaoxue was truly competent, unlike that blockhead Jin Xiong, who hadn’t even managed a single chicken after all that time.

“You two go flaunt your affection elsewhere. I’m off to work out.” Unable to bear the atmosphere, Jin Xiong stormed off the observation deck in a huff.

“What to do now?”

Aimlessly browsing the official forums, Huang Yunshuo couldn’t help but wear a wry smile as he read the endless complaints and curses.

A chick barely the size of a palm took five or six people to bring down, on average. The thought alone was absurdly funny. In Reforged Era, even a rabbit would probably have everyone running scared.

Finding nothing of value on the forums, Huang Yunshuo clicked over to the Galaxy Livestream Platform.

Over countless years of change, all streaming platforms, large and small, had eventually been merged by the Galaxy Livestream Platform, operated by the Second World. There was no alternative—Second World covered all humanity. What could other platforms possibly offer in competition?

As a result, there was now only one streaming platform on Earth, and the number of streamers was staggering. The audience base was far beyond anything before, with countless people sending gifts and comments daily. The golden age of streaming had never faded since a millennium ago—indeed, for many, it was still a prime way to make money.

“Piaoxue, if we had enough credits, how much stronger could the Bright Mirror become?” Huang Yunshuo suddenly asked Ye Piaoxue.

She replied, “With sufficient credits and the necessary resources, the Bright Mirror could be transformed into a true warship, incomparable to what it is now. Most importantly, the Bright Mirror’s mecha could be fully restored and even upgraded to Kardon Type-2 or higher, greatly enhancing our self-defense.”

“What do you think about me starting a livestream? Maybe I could make a big profit?” Huang Yunshuo felt a restless urge growing within him.

He’d long had enough of this rundown ship, and ever since the Bright Mirror’s mecha had been severely damaged three years prior, it was nothing but a display piece. Losing its greatest weapon, the ship had been living on the brink ever since.

“I support you,” Ye Piaoxue said with a smile.

That was all Huang Yunshuo needed. He clapped his hands. “Then it’s settled!”

“When you log in later, add my ID, Piaoxue.”

Ye Piaoxue waved and left for her room, her long legs carrying her gracefully away.

As soon as she left, Huang Yunshuo sprang into action—filling out his real name, verifying all sorts of information, and finally, he obtained a streaming channel number:

drz02825!