He leaned closer to the screen with a serious expression, his red lips softly calling out the ID of a viewer, “Coriander, hi, thank you!”
His clumsy and earnest demeanor was just too endearing; the bullet comments had gone wild, refreshing at a rocket-like speed.
The number of viewers in the upper right corner successfully surpassed a thousand.
After finishing reading the donation list, Tong Sui turned to check the rolling comments.
Although he had prepared for this, he was still startled by the flood of affectionate terms on the screen. From the start of the broadcast until now, for five minutes, the warmth on his face hadn’t diminished; even the tips of his ears felt slightly hot.
He deliberately ignored those terms and picked a few relatively normal comments to respond to.
“Are you playing a game?”
Tong Sui glanced at his desktop.
The previous host had played quite a few games; he didn’t want to consider any horror genres, and as for MOBA games, he was originally bad at them and hadn’t touched them for too long, making it likely he’d drag his teammates down.
After thinking it over, he decided to click on a shooting game.
“Let’s play this today.”
This game allowed for a single match of one hundred players. After parachuting down, players would collect various resources on the game map and fight against other players in a shrinking safe area until they could survive to the end, which meant victory.
What was great about this game was that players could play solo; if they died, it would only be their own fault.
Tong Sui didn’t have much experience with games.
Once he entered the game page, he even forgot to change the original settings; he only realized he had chosen the default squad of four after the matchmaking ended.
“Number 1, are you there?”
Tong Sui was startled and hastily sat up straight, hurriedly putting on the headphones hanging on the side.
“Yes, I’m here.”
The second player, who spoke first, took a few deep breaths and said, “Your voice sounds really nice; it sounds so young. You can’t be a minor, right?”
“Yes, I’m with Number 2,” Number 3 chimed in, “big brothers will take you for a chicken dinner.”
Tong Sui replied, “I’m an adult.”
With light pink cat-ear headphones perched on his head, the little streamer on screen appeared rather juvenile, seeming quite young.
Although he knew streaming platforms wouldn’t contract minors, the comments were deliberately teasing him:
—— The streamer looks around 16 years old; even their English ID is from a minor.
—— Hahaha, I’m laughing, does this count as self-exposure?
—— An adult? I don’t believe it, show me proof.
…
Seeing their remarks, Tong Sui felt a bit anxious. “Please stop talking; I really don’t look that young. I’ll be starting college in two months.”
“*Pfft.*”
“Hahahahaha.”
The laughter of the second and third players came through unrestrained, and Tong Sui’s ears turned completely red. “What are you laughing at?”
“I thought you were older; you just turned adult, don’t worry, big brothers will take you for chicken dinner.”
Both Number 2 and Number 3 had dominant social personalities, continuously talking and heating up the atmosphere, occasionally prompting Tong Sui to speak.
Tong Sui would respond with assorted “uh-huh” and “yeah” phrases.
In stark contrast was Player Number 4.
His microphone had only blinked a couple of times at the start, and throughout, his voice was not heard at all.
Tong Sui understood; he himself was quite reserved when gaming, preferring silence when possible.
After the plane took off, Number 4 marked a location.
Paradise Resort.
The loot inside was as rich as its name, where one could casually find level three helmets and armor.
However, the downside was—
They weren’t the only ones eyeing this location.
Tong Sui had seen many players parachuting around him when he jumped down, and if he wasn’t careful, he could easily end up eliminated.
He landed a beat slower than the others, frantically searching for a gun while gunfire erupted around him.
Ratatatatat.
The relentless gunfire made his heart race.
Fortunately, he was rather lucky and soon found a gun.
But Tong Sui’s teammates weren’t as fortunate; he heard scattered gunfire, and in the lower left corner, Number 2’s health bar suddenly dropped significantly.
Number 3, who was with him, met the same fate.
The two who had just promised to take him for a chicken dinner were now eliminated upon landing.
Perhaps feeling embarrassed, they exited after getting shot, leaving only him and the silent Number 4.
Contrary to Tong Sui, who was too scared to move, Number 4 quickly picked up a gun and started racking up kills, an impressive display of prowess.
Tong Sui glanced at the distance on the map; thankfully, it wasn’t far.
He felt a bit more confident.
Just as he was thinking of making his way over to Number 4, he heard several footsteps.
Tong Sui immediately froze.
The chaotic footsteps alongside the gunfire suggested a full squad nearby.
Instinctively, he opened his mic to call for assistance, “Number 4, Number 4, are you there? I have a lot of people here; can you come and get me?”
His voice carried a slight tremor of helplessness, making his already soft tone sound even more pitiful.
Number 4, Chi Xingyu, heard this and hesitated for a moment, his hand shaking slightly as he fired.
He missed.
Chi Xingyu frowned, “Tsk.”
The downed enemy was still struggling on the ground.
Without hesitation, he sent a bullet to finish the job and glanced at the comments in his livestream.
—— Help, help, Number 1’s voice is so adorable!
—— What are you daydreaming about? Go save him!
—— Chi, say a few more words to him; it’s rare to encounter someone with such a nice voice! Please!
…
Chi Xingyu frowned at the comments.
He was a member of a PUBG world championship team, and this livestream was mandatory due to agreements with the platform.
Playing solo was what he was used to, but teaming with random players was a different torture for him; he wasn’t picky about voices, but he was tired of the subpar mics and awful tones.
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