“Nah.”
The man shook his head and told him about his sister.
“Truly a thankless wolf. You’ve had a rough life.”
Hao Ge shook his head.
It wasn’t his place to comment on others’ family matters.
“Forget it, let’s go drink.”
“
“Aren’t you usually a non-smoker and teetotaler?
Just a little, then, so you don’t overdo it.”
The two headed toward a restaurant.
“You bought a house with your savings, planning for your sister to come live with you, right?
Now it’s empty—why not move back to the studio?”
Hao Ge asked.
“Forget it.
The studio reeks of smoke and is like a trash heap most days.”
“You love reading so much. If you’d stayed in school, you’d at least be a college graduate by now.”
They sat at the table, beer arriving quickly, though the food took a while.
Both filled their glasses.
“Maybe it’s for the best.
Finally shed this burden.
Living alone is easy.
I’ll keep taking orders, slowly build up my savings.”
The man took a sip.
“Xiao Ming, tomorrow’s your birthday, right?
I bought a set of books for you—here, early birthday gift.”
Hao Ge clinked his glass.
He’d looked after this kid for years.
Guys as tough as them weren’t so easily beaten down.
“What books?”
“Book Set.
Wasn’t sure which version to buy, so I picked the full set from Zhonghua Book Company.”
“
“Hao Ge, I remember that set is expensive.”
Yeng Ziming knew.
He’d wanted it for a while but held back due to the price.
Reading was one of his few hobbies.
“No problem. It’s a birthday gift.
There’s a big order here—a major boss is paying 50,000 for a solo clear of the Carnival Event.
If you can do it, I’ll give you the job and only take 5,000 as commission.”
“Are you sure it’s not a mandatory group instance?”
The food arrived.
They started chatting over drinks and dishes.
“I have the info—solo entry is possible.
The only issue is whether you’re up for it tonight, after a full day of streaming.
Plus, the solo clear is tough—the boss’s account is well-geared, but damage-wise, it’s tough without a healer.
And if you stack only offense, one map-wide mechanic wipes you out.
With so many bosses in one map, it’s all about survival, and relying only on invincibility frames and untargetable skills isn’t enough to survive cooldowns.”
“
“Tank strategy—possible?”
“Not really.
You’d have to fight till the end of time.
There’s no time limit on this event, but this money isn’t easy.”
“Alright, I’ll give it a shot tonight.”
He quickly shook off his funk, avoiding mental exhaustion, and returned to his usual self.
“
“One more thing.
They’re cracking down on toxic behavior—Livestream Room platforms will be cleaning up soon.
Watch your mouth, or you’ll be made an example of.”
“Oh, you even get this kind of intel, Hao Ge.
Impressive.”
“
“Remember the previous top streamer? Got banned with just a word from a big shot for being toxic.
Try to restrain yourself.”
“Don’t worry, Hao Ge.
I’d never do anything to cause major trouble.
At most, some mutual trash talk.
I know the risks of farming black traffic.”
Offending most regular people wasn’t a big deal.
Maybe a fine, maybe a second chance.
But piss off someone truly powerful, and you’re done for.
In this line of work, if you don’t understand the rules, you don’t last.
He put down his beer, picked up his phone, and immediately posted an update: Hope everyone watching the stream can cut back on verbal abuse and help create a good Livestream Room environment.
Instantly, replies flooded in—not pleasant ones.
[Less verbal abuse, more full-insurance half-trucks.]
This time, he didn’t choose to banter with the haters, but quietly set his phone aside.
After eating, he prepared to head home.
Seeing an old lady begging by the roadside, Yeng Ziming tossed a 20 yuan bill into her bowl.
Hao Ge looked puzzled.
“Aren’t you afraid she’s a scammer? Professional beggar?”
“It’s fine.
Call it a good deed.”
After they walked away, the old lady picked up her bowl and spat in dissatisfaction.
A young man drove up and stopped in front of her.
He was her son.
He opened the door, and the old lady got in.
“Not a single haul today. Just one poor guy gave 20.”
“Then, Mom, should we try another spot?”
“
“No need.
There’s no money in this line anymore.
The economy’s bad.
No one wants to give, even if we switch places.
Anyway, we have a car, a house, and money for the kid’s schooling.”
That’s right—this mother and son were professional beggars.
Yeng Ziming returned to his own apartment alone.
He didn’t smoke but liked sugary drinks.
At midnight, the event updated as scheduled.
He didn’t sleep.
Instead, he began studying how to clear this big order.
The requirement was just a solo clear—no other conditions.
There was time to experiment.
All the bosses were stacked together.
After logging into the boss’s account, he ran through it with a standard attack build.
In this closed ecosystem, with no scripts, everything had to be done manually.
Just as Hao Ge said, it was impossible to clear with a normal build.
If you went full tank, you could survive, but given the damage output, three days might pass without killing the bosses before the Carnival Event ended.
After repeated failures, he began to doubt whether the Carnival Event dungeon could be soloed at all.
After all, it seemed designed for group play from the start.
Hao Ge messaged again: How’s it going? Any progress?
If a method was found, they could take orders continuously—studios were more profitable than lone wolves.
He joined a friend call.
“Hao Ge, I haven’t cleared it yet.
Let me keep trying.”
“You’ve already been at it for three hours.
If it’s impossible, just give up.”
“I want to try a bit more.”
After ending the call, he sank into contemplation.
He had a special attachment to this game—not just for making a living.
After playing for years, he hadn’t gotten tired of it and still loved figuring things out.
He remembered when he first encountered the game, it was because a net cafe introduced brain-machine devices, and the character name he created was randomly generated.
He looked at the gear in the boss account’s inventory.
Clearly, it was an old player, with many commemorative items.
But a lot of gear was outdated.
Some people chose to dismantle, others kept them as mementos.
As he browsed equipment knowledge, a sudden thought struck.
There was one item with a mechanic: every three minutes, all units lost 1% health.
It was an early-version fun item.
As the pace of life and gaming accelerated, now a whole map could be cleared in under three minutes, so the item was largely useless and just took up inventory space.
“Found it.
Fool’s Ring [April Fool’s Limited].
Good thing the boss didn’t dismantle this memento.”
In that case, as long as he used a recovery-heavy tank set to ensure health didn’t drop to zero, everything else could focus on recovery.
Damage could come from the Fool’s Ring’s passive.
Theoretically, the Carnival Event could be cleared in five hours.
He didn’t rush to start.
Instead, he logged into his own Zero-Spend Account, checked his inventory, and confirmed he also had a Fool’s Ring.
Then, he got ready to clear the boss’s order first, then solo his own.
Perhaps what really kept him going wasn’t just the pressure of life, but a love for the game.
He’d played many similar titles and cleared all sorts of orders, but the only game he truly loved was this one—Kandevin!
Equipping a full recovery set—top, bottom, belt, shoulder, shoes, bracers, and accessories: earrings, rings, necklaces, bracelets.
The long grinding run began.
Although he didn’t need to move, he couldn’t fully AFK either.
The brain-machine couldn’t use scripts to auto-grind, so he had to manually activate recovery skills and use red and blue potions to survive.
By the time he finished the run, five hours had passed—plus three hours of equipment testing, eight hours total.
He took off the brain-machine.
Dawn had broken.
He messaged Hao Ge with the good news, who promptly paid.
After sharing the strategy with Hao Ge, he didn’t plan to sleep right away.
Since the sun was up, he decided to grab breakfast and catch up on sleep later.
Setting down the brain-machine, he started his mobile Livestream again.
He hadn’t streamed during the order to avoid distractions.
“Brothers!
After an all-night battle, the Carnival Event was solo-cleared.
Order for a boss—video uploaded, now pending review.
“
[Old dog, you actually cleared it?]
[Insane.]
At this hour, only a few scattered barrages appeared, but someone was watching.
“I’m going to eat breakfast, then nap before streaming the grind for you guys.
Scraped away all night.”
“
As he stood up, dizziness hit, followed by a sharp pain in his chest—he collapsed, powerless.
[Did the streamer die suddenly?]
[Is this a joke?]
[Wait, he hasn’t moved for ages.]
[Someone call an ambulance.]
At the moment of death, he entered his life’s flashback.
Scenes of his wretched past flashed by.
As the child of unreliable parents, he had to live on sheer willpower.
Live…
Caught stealing and beaten, caught stealing food and beaten.
Why steal?
Because it wasn’t just for himself—his sister was hungry too.
Growing up, dropping out, working, power-leveling, earning more, buying a house, sister graduating, he finally got his life on track—was it all about to end?
He’d never complained about his family—it was beyond his choice.
But he kept working hard in his own way.
With such a tragic childhood, wasn’t he just like a novel protagonist?
He couldn’t understand—how did his sister turn into a thankless wolf?
Life…
I had no choice.
Losing all senses, he drifted into darkness.
His life rapidly faded.
I’ve always believed I was born to be the main character of this world.
But now I’m dying.
………
In a certain space, two Systems were conversing.
“Senior, are you just abandoning the case right after taking it?”
“Why bother?
Business goals met for the year—I’m going on vacation.
After reincarnating him, I slapped on a template.
Low investment—if he dies, whatever.”
“I think another archive got corrupted here…”
After hearing this, the System slumped.
“Unpaid debts, host trapped in an alien space, should’ve warned him to suicide-reset earlier.
My bad.”
“Good luck.
I’m off to vacation.”