Chapter Ninety: This Isn’t What I Expected?

At midnight, in a dimly lit room, a young man barely in his thirties stared fixedly at the screen before him, his expression shifting between light and shadow.

“Bang!”

After a moment, the man slammed his clenched fist onto the computer desk, sending papers and various objects scattering across the floor, yet he paid them no heed.

He had been set up.

Watching as the protagonist he controlled in the game sliced through enemies and completed impossibly difficult objectives with ease, Huang Ying immediately understood what had happened.

He admitted the other player’s gaming skills were indeed impressive, but certainly not better than his own. In terms of technique, Huang Ying was confident—he could achieve the same fluidity, needing only a dozen practice runs and a bit of luck during a live stream.

But who, unless absolutely necessary, would put in such exhaustive practice? Especially someone whose abilities were close to his own—a master at this level only needed to familiarize themselves with the procedures. Perfect synchronization was effortless; why spend days laboring just to make the visuals and actions a little more seamless?

Huang Ying wouldn’t do such a thing, nor did he believe anyone else would be foolish enough. All the top players steered clear of such time-consuming tasks—unless afflicted with some obsessive compulsion, who would bother?

That left only one possibility: the streamer who planned to climb over him had deliberately orchestrated this. With their skills nearly matched, one side had prepared meticulously, while the other was caught off guard—the gap was thus invisibly widened.

Huang Ying knew he’d grown too relaxed these past few years. Whether recording videos or streaming live, he’d never truly prepared, allowing someone to exploit this lapse to make a name for themselves.

Unforgivable!

Angry as he was, Huang Ying had no good solution. The millions of viewers weren’t blind—stirring up outrage wasn’t so easy. As for mobilizing his fans for mindless attacks?

He wasn’t that foolish; if he did, his seven million followers would soon dwindle. Now was the peak of Luo Chen’s momentum—confronting him head-on was out of the question.

Ring, ring...

Lost in thought, Huang Ying was suddenly interrupted by the ringing of his phone nearby, derailing the train of ideas he’d just managed to straighten out.

He snatched up the phone, glanced at the caller ID, and, brow furrowed, answered.

“Huang Ying, watching the stream?” The voice on the line was a woman’s, deliberately sultry, tinged with teasing.

“Wu Qing? What, calling late at night just to laugh at me? If I fall, you won’t fare any better!” On any other day, Huang Ying might have bantered with this attractive manager, but now he had no patience for jokes.

Wu Qing, barely past thirty, had climbed her way to head of the gaming division largely thanks to Huang Ying’s help. If he’d managed to get her promoted, he could certainly get her removed.

“Don’t misunderstand; that’s not my intention,” Wu Qing replied.

She wasn’t stupid enough to provoke the pillar of the Stardust Platform, even if in a few days he might only be referred to as a “former” one.

She was calling out of concern, hoping to comfort Huang Ying and prevent him from doing anything rash in the heat of the moment—that would be disastrous.

“Take it easy. Even if you fail this time, there will be plenty of chances to fight back. Stardust Platform won’t abandon you.”

“What do you mean? Stardust Platform...” Huang Ying started to ask, but she hung up abruptly, leaving him so furious he nearly smashed his phone.

When had Huang Ying ever been treated like this? He’d always been the one to hang up on Wu Qing—now she dared do it to him? Did she really think he was finished?

“Bang!”

He kicked the chair beside him, his face grim, struggling for a long time before finally regaining his composure. This was the situation; he had to find a way out.

Since Wu Qing had gone out of her way to relay the platform’s change in attitude, she probably wasn’t lying. But hadn’t those executives been eager to get rid of him, hoping he would leave sooner?

For a figure like Huang Ying—the public face of the platform—not abandoning him was, in essence, tacit support. But what did it mean, really? Maintaining a balance between him and this rising platinum star?

Highly unlikely. Huang Ying was self-aware; he’d been reckless for five years, already testing the limits of the executives’ patience—things weren’t so easily resolved.

Unable to make sense of it, he gave up pursuing the matter. At least it was some good news—if true, he’d have a chance to reclaim his position.

This time, he’d truly stumbled. After all, the other had prepared while he hadn’t; being outshone was normal—everyone has their lows.

He glanced at the time, nearly midnight. For four hours, the other player hadn’t made a single mistake, leaving Huang Ying frustrated. There would be no opportunity tonight; once the final task was completed, the streamer would end the broadcast. Assassin’s Creed, being such a lengthy game, was seldom finished in a single session.

Sure enough, near the end of Sequence Five, Luo Chen announced that the stream would conclude after this task. Though many viewers wanted to see more, most understood—four hours of intense gameplay was exhausting, and streamers weren’t machines.

The ending of Sequence Five featured a showdown—no stealth, only a face-to-face duel. Assassinations were thrilling, but they could grow tiresome; a stylish duel to close was just right.

Ivy and Lucy, two women locked in a fierce rivalry, stirred the anticipation of the audience. Many who’d played ahead noted that perfect synchronization here was difficult, so viewers were excited to see the streamer display her skills. Even the fans, though drowsy at this late hour, perked up.

Even Huang Ying felt a surge of interest. Earlier tasks had showcased Luo Chen’s extraordinary assassination abilities, but there had been little direct combat—this duel could lead to mistakes. If it went awry, it would surely leave a bad impression on the fans.

So, amid universal anticipation, Ivy climbed to the top of the tower. After a round of pointless banter, the antagonist Lucy appeared—the duel began!

Yet the proceedings were not quite as the audience had imagined.

Thanks to the reader Stranger for the reward of 500 Stardust Coins, and to readers 150406224117606, Gluttonous Drum, Xiaoming for the reward of 100 Stardust Coins—flowers all around!