Chapter Forty-Nine: Distributing (Selling) Gifts

“Keep cursing, you brats! Afraid of getting kicked? Follow me, send yachts, push my fan value to 10,000 points! Hahaha!” Huang Yunshuo laughed arrogantly.

The livestream was in chaos, with angry comments flooding in by the second—a truly spectacular scene. There were countless IDs above level 30, at least several hundred. He kicked people out relentlessly; if no level 30s were speaking, he would target the level 20s. For a moment, the red notification of viewers being kicked scrolled endlessly, making for a shocking sight.

Morning Dew and Light Frost had a fine sheen of fragrant sweat on her smooth forehead. Watching this astonishing scene unfold in the Fool’s Livestream, she somehow felt she’d made a mistake. But activating a Duke’s gift box was supposed to be a good thing—how could it be wrong?

“I truly concede—if I respect anyone, it’s you!”

“This is insane. From today forward, I’m a diehard fan of this fool.”

“Kick them! All those arrogant level 30s think they’re untouchable. No streamer ever dares to kick them, but you did what we’ve all secretly wanted!”

“So satisfying! Better than reading those brainless underdog stories. This is the thrill of taking down the big shots!”

“This streamer deserves to be poor forever.”

“If you think he’s poor, you must be brainless. Just the stuff in his trading window is worth a fortune—can your dog brain even count that high?”

“Ha, the so-called fool is the real big spender. Just those eleven carrot batons are worth 3.3 million credits on the black market.”

“If those carrot batons really came from the Meteor Draw, then he’s got a conscience.”

“Come on, kick me—I’m almost level 30, too!”

“I’m reporting this brat immediately. He’s lost his mind.”

“No wonder he calls himself a fool. Clearly, his IQ is a problem. Kicking out your own meal ticket? If your stream doesn’t get banned, I’ll eat… something unspeakable live!”

The barrage of comments was so fast the chat was almost unreadable. If someone enabled floating comments on-screen, you wouldn’t see any of the stream—the text would cover everything, not a pixel of content visible.

Huang Yunshuo’s vision blurred and he felt dizzy, almost nauseous. “Damn, there are just too many comments. What am I going to do about this in the future?” A faint worry crept into his heart; not being able to read the chat was frustrating.

At last, the countdown for the gift box ended.

Naturally, a Duke’s gift box was no mere rocket yacht gift. As a result, over ten thousand messages flooded the chat as viewers claimed their rewards—ten thousand people received Meteor prizes, and many promptly sent meteors back to Huang Yunshuo, quite a generous number.

“Since you’re sending meteors on your own, I’ll start the draw,” Huang Yunshuo said as he tossed the bouncy ball into the glass dome, covered it, and set his photon tablet aside to rest his weary eyes.

He left his room, tablet in hand, and glanced toward the observation deck. Sure enough, several photon tablets were arranged on the tables, and a few people were engrossed in watching.

Ye Piaoxue stood at the edge of the deck, stretching her lithe figure with a twist, her waterfall of black hair swaying with her movements. Her alluring curves were so striking that Huang Yunshuo nearly lost himself in the sight.

“Enjoying the show, are you?” he asked, displeased. He’d finally logged off early, only to find they’d done the same.

Chen Whirlwind grinned, “We came down because you logged off. What, you think it’s a coincidence?”

Yu Shiyin laughed, “Actually, it’s the Hurricane Helmets. My head was starting to feel odd, so even though there were twenty minutes left before the three-hour mark, I logged off anyway.”

“Same here… Shouldn’t we upgrade our helmets? Having to log off every three hours is inconvenient, and now we can’t even last that long. I’m worried it’ll just get worse,” Zhao Shengsheng said anxiously.

“I’ll do the draw first,” Huang Yunshuo began, but then noticed the bouncy ball had stopped. He quickly took a screenshot.

The chat was frozen; the screen was packed edge to edge with meteor effects, completely blanketing the stream. Who could say how many meteors were sent in that instant?

“Cutie Meng sent the streamer 38 meteors.”

“Despairing Sword sent the streamer 293 meteors.”

He saved the screenshot and showed it to the viewers. But with meteors still flooding the screen, the entire stream was a curtain of light—no one could see the screenshot at all.

“These fools probably don’t even know the ball has stopped,” he muttered. The meteor effect had gone way overboard.

“Stop! Enough with the meteors!” Huang Yunshuo shouted.

Viewers, bewildered by the overwhelming meteor visuals, breathed a sigh of relief as the fool finally spoke. Gradually, the meteor effects faded, and the screen became visible again—revealing the screenshot.

“Cutie Meng and Despairing Sword, I’ll trade you each a hand shield right now,” Huang Yunshuo announced.

Martial Emperor Supreme: “Heartbroken—I didn’t have enough meteors, or it would’ve been mine!”

Despairing Sword replied, “There’s a top-up bonus today—nine percent off for large Star Coins purchases, and lots of free meteors.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, I’ll check it out,” Martial Emperor Supreme replied.

“Isn’t Cutie Meng the one always begging for mute packages in the stream? What luck.”

“This is doomed. With meteors blanketing the screen, there was no way to see if the ball stopped. And my hearing’s not great either—hopeless!”

After sending the hand shields to the two winners, Huang Yunshuo checked the time and felt a pang of anxiety. He’d wasted too much time; with so many items still to give (or sell), he couldn’t afford to stall.

[Wang Ta sent the streamer a yacht x1!]

Suddenly, a yacht effect appeared, and the silver-tier fan Wang Ta shouted impatiently, “Kick me, you fool! I dare you to kick me again!”

[Wang Ta was muted by the Fool streamer for 30 days.]

“LOL!” The audience burst into laughter.

Several other high-level viewers who’d been kicked re-entered, sent yachts, and began cursing at Huang Yunshuo. But pressed for time, he muted them all for 30 days without a word. The viewers who’d spent on yachts were left dumbfounded.

“Second round, starting now!” Huang Yunshuo tossed the ball again. Meteor effects instantly filled the stream, covering every inch—who knew how many people were sending them.

“Stop, everyone—look at the screenshot!”

“Third round!”

…

First he gave out all the hand shields, then finished off the twenty sets of copper coins. By now, Huang Yunshuo felt he could barely continue.

The endless barrage of comments and meteor effects had left his eyes spinning.

He was convinced that if he kept streaming like this, it wouldn’t be long before he was nearsighted.