Chapter Seventy: A Century of Silence under the Super Moderator

Xiao Ruo pondered for a moment. The style of this livestream and the audience atmosphere, though rough and a bit unhinged, didn’t seem to cross the line into punishable territory—at least not this time. Still, she thought it best to remind him; the global mute function was a powerful weapon and shouldn’t be used recklessly, or he’d lose followers in droves.

[Super Moderator] Starry Sky Ruo Ruo: “Anchor, please be mindful of your behavior. Maintain a calm demeanor and self-restraint. The audience are your friends and your bread and butter.”

[Eating Chicken Is Just the Best sent ‘Airplane’ x1 to the anchor] Message: Don’t just talk, ban this idiot anchor, get rid of him!

[Hisoka’s Little Puppy sent ‘Airplane’ x1 to the anchor] Message: Hurry up and ban him, stop yapping!

A surge of anger welled up in Huang Yunshuo. Damn it, he’d been too distracted by the gifts to remember that Starry Sky Ruo Ruo was still lurking in his stream. Watching these idiotic viewers continue to send gifts just to insult him even after being muted, Huang Yunshuo felt something click in his mind.

Damn. This livestream was on its last legs. It wasn’t because of him, but because of this crowd. The style of the stream was shifting and becoming increasingly homogeneous at a breakneck pace, and the chat had already become crude and violent. Huang Yunshuo had a strong sense that whether it happened today or tomorrow, his stream was destined to be shut down sooner or later.

“The Skynet media platform is pretty developed too. Maybe I’ll just apply for a media ID and start streaming there?”

He stroked his chin in thought. After all, Starry Sky Live was under Skynet’s surveillance, but most operations were managed by the various flagship artificial node corporations. In essence, they merely benefited from Skynet’s core technology; the whole streaming platform was crowded with moderators of varying ranks, each wielding considerable power.

Huang Yunshuo was no novice—he’d been both a streamer and a viewer for a long time. This phenomenon of interactive entertainment thrived on the complexities of human nature, a perpetual game of cunning and deceits. He’d seen all types of drama-hunters and power abusers. Plenty of streamers spent their days without any real content, dragging fans along to “inspect rooms,” making suggestive jokes about female streamers, or hiring shills to stir up drama—sometimes dozens of streamers would collude in orchestrated hype. It was chaos incarnate.

Any streamer who’d been around long enough inevitably got embroiled in scandal, whether by choice or by force of circumstance. Huang Yunshuo didn’t mind; he wasn’t afraid of drama. What he dreaded was inadvertently crossing a moderator—once they exercised their authority, there would be nothing he could do. No matter how strong-willed he was, he’d be powerless to resist.

These moderators, big and small, were like a Sword of Damocles hanging over his head. To keep streaming, one had to abide by countless rules and regulations. Given Huang Yunshuo’s current style and temperament, he simply didn’t have the patience for all that.

“To hell with it, that settles it!”

With a decisive clap of his hands, Huang Yunshuo opened up the streamer dashboard to check his earnings for the month.

Total value of gifts received this month: 4,180,972 Starry Sky Coins.

Converted, that was 320,475.88 credit points. Originally, it would have been just over 200,000, but since gifts like Meteors and Stardust were so valuable, the streamer received nearly the full value in credits. He’d received a staggering number of those, nearly doubling his final take.

“Withdraw it all!”

In a blink, his balance jumped from 9.14 million to 9.46 million, and his withdrawable income dropped to zero.

“Hahaha, the money’s in! Not much, but I’ll take it.”

Feeling quite pleased with himself, Huang Yunshuo closed the dashboard.

“Why the hell are you idiots still sending gifts—are you all brainless?”

Sneering at the extravagant gift effects that still popped up, Huang Yunshuo let out a cold laugh.

“Are you so high and mighty, Super Moderator? Daring to mouth off at me—who do you think you are? I’ll crush you!”

With a wicked grin, Huang Yunshuo took action.

[‘Super Moderator’ Starry Sky Ruo Ruo has been muted for 100 years, 0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds by the anchor]

[‘Super Moderator’ Starry Sky Ruo Ruo has been kicked from the livestream by the anchor]

Two red messages appeared, one after the other, below Starry Sky Ruo Ruo’s chat. Since the entire chat was muted, the 250,000 viewers present could clearly see both notifications.

[Blockhead sent ‘Airplane’ x1 to the anchor] Message: Not saying another word—what’s the new stream room number?

[That Night, That Sea sent ‘Airplane’ x1 to the anchor] Message: Are you out of your mind?

[Martial Sovereign sent ‘Airplane’ x1 to the anchor] Message: Holy crap, I just topped up and got 2,000 Meteors!

Dozens of airplanes flew across the screen in a chain, one after another.

“Stop it, are you all idiots?”

Huang Yunshuo was exasperated. Did they not realize his actions had already doomed this channel? If he hadn’t withdrawn his earnings in time, all the money would have gone straight to Starry Sky Live.

How serious was it for a streamer to mute and kick a super moderator? Muting or kicking an ordinary viewer required just a click, maybe a confirmation for high-level or privileged users. But to mute and kick a super moderator, there were eight separate warnings and prompts. Starry Sky Live really did give streamers immense power—there was no one they couldn’t mute or kick. Yet if you ignored all eight warnings and still went through with it, you were effectively declaring war on the platform itself.

Every streamer in history who’d done this in a fit of self-destruction had their channel permanently shut down, without exception. Even after a cooldown period, opening a new channel was futile—their names were blacklisted forever.

By the end of the day, Huang Yunshuo’s stream would be closed for good.

He slunk into the dashboard, hurriedly withdrawing the thousands’ worth of gifts he’d received, bumping his balance up to 9.47 million, more satisfied than ever.

“Skynet media platform, search my name!”

Huang Yunshuo changed his stream’s title and ended the broadcast.

His inbox and group chats exploded with mentions, and the voice channel kept lighting up—his friends were clearly in shock.

How had Old Huang gone from calm to completely out of control in an instant? They were all at a loss.

Staring at the now-closed, fully muted drz02825 stream, Dew on Morning Frost exited the party, left the Swanling District behind, and stood at the foot of Tiger Gorge’s cliffs, letting out a wry smile.

Did the streamer really have to be this reckless?

She’d just bought a Duke-level subscription in drz02825 and still had a full 5 million Starry Sky Coins left to spend. What was she supposed to do with all that now?

“Should I just blow it all?”

Dew on Morning Frost, who rarely watched any other streams, considered her options before shaking her head. Better to save those Starry Sky Coins—who knew when they might come in handy.

Ignoring all private messages and mentions for now, Huang Yunshuo rested for a bit, logged out of Starry Sky Live, and entered the self-media channel.