Chapter 3

[Global paid livestream viewers: 17,834,291]

[Real-time donations: 920 million points—still climbing]

Lucas stood in the center of the high-level monster hunting zone outside the Blood Cathedral, holding aloft the brilliantly glowing [Sacred Protection Aura], striking a textbook victor's pose for the cameras. His Abyss Dominator armor gleamed with dark purple metallic luster under the cathedral's blood-red skylight, the abyssal patterns on his chestplate pulsing with his breathing rhythm. The champion title hovering three feet above his head sparkled like golden banners.

"Brothers!" He waved the golden amulet at the camera. "Today, witness true invincibility! This S-tier defensive item cost 5 billion points and absorbs all damage for thirty minutes—physical, magical, mental, toxins—completely nullified!"

Elena stood at the safe zone's edge, hands clasped before her chest, eyes sparkling with adoration: "Lucas, you're the strongest man in this game! With this, even the entire world combined couldn't match you!"

Livestream comments scrolled frantically as donation icons rained down like a storm:

[Night Sovereign]: Champion power! This is a true god! That waste Viktor must be vomiting blood seeing this!

[Bloody Reaper]: 12 million donation! Please Lord Lucas demonstrate invincible elite monster slaughter! I want to record this for posterity!

[Abyss Observer]: 5 billion points for one item—my entire net worth couldn't buy a fraction of his equipment! This is the wealth gap!

Lucas approached a massive elite-class Ripper monster. The creature stood 4.3 meters tall, weighing over five tons, covered in steel-gray heavy scales with razor-sharp edges. Its two front claws were like curved blades, each talon as long as an adult's forearm, capable of easily shredding any armor below SS-tier. Its crimson vertical pupils locked onto Lucas as sulfurous growls rumbled from its throat, claws carving deep grooves into the stone beneath.

Lucas stopped five meters from the monster, deliberately spreading his arms and winking at the camera: "Watch closely! I'll use this beast to prove my invincibility! Today I'm standing still, letting it attack freely—then walking out of this hunting zone without a scratch!"

He turned toward the already enraged Ripper, shouting: "Come on! Didn't you eat? Hit me!"

The [Sacred Protection Aura] flickered with one last warm golden radiance at his fingertips—the precursor to activation. Lucas confidently pressed the activation button, eyes filled with arrogant certainty: "Brothers, witness the miracle—"

Meanwhile, in the dark, damp bunker, I sat in that worn folding chair, fingers dancing lightly in the void. The operation panel hovered before me as Lucas's real-time data refreshed like waterfalls:

[Target: Lucas Black]

[Current Points: 8,234,891,203] (50% deducted since last check)

[Equipment Status: Sacred Protection Aura (S-tier)—Activation command sent]

[Predicted post-activation effect: Null (item properties tampered)]

[Physical Status: Healthy / Armor integrity: 100%]

On screen, Lucas struck his signature "come at me" gesture, lips still moving—probably counting down.

My finger swept across the virtual keyboard, inputting override commands:

[Execute asset liquidation: Target points reduced 50%—Processing]

[Item property modification: S-tier "Sacred Protection Aura" → Junk "Smoking Metal Chunk"]

[Execution time: Immediate]

[Confirm execution: Yes]

On screen, Lucas still gave thumbs up to the camera, expression arrogant as an emperor on his throne.

I pressed Enter. My finger left the keyboard without lingering, like completing routine system maintenance.

The next second, Lucas's account points began jumping wildly—eight-digit numbers plummeting at barely visible speed, from over 8 billion instantly shrinking to just over 4 billion, evaporating nearly half. More critically, the [Sacred Protection Aura] in his hand, previously flowing with golden radiance, suddenly emitted a harsh "ZZZT" electrical sound—then the golden light died completely, replaced by thick black smoke billowing from within like a burned circuit board.

"What?!"

Lucas looked down at the smoking iron lump in his hands, face instantly shifting from ruddy to deathly pale.

But it was too late. The elite Ripper that had waited so long was done waiting—in its perception, this suicidal human had not only invaded its territory but turned his back and spread his arms, shouting "come hit me!" This was the most direct provocation it had ever received.

It moved. The four-meter steel-gray body accelerated from stillness to full speed in 0.3 seconds, claws shrieking through air as they struck down viciously.

WHAM—!!

Lucas flew through the air like being hit head-on by a speeding armored vehicle, arcing through space before smashing into a stone pillar dozens of meters away. His SSS-tier chestplate cracked with a horrifying fissure, left shoulder completely torn away by claws—blood fountained out, instantly dyeing half his armor crimson.

"AHHHHH—!" Lucas released a soul-tearing scream, voice sharp as crushed metal pipes. His left hand clutched his shoulder wound, but blood gushed between his fingers uncontrollably. He curled at the pillar's base like a snake run over by wheels.

The livestream chat experienced a complete reversal:

Previous flood: [Lucas invincible!] [Champion power!] [10 million donation!] [Server's strongest!] [Viktor come learn what strength means!]

Next second's flood: [???????????] [HAHAHAHAHAHA epic fail!!] [Holy shit 5 billion points bought a lighter?? One puff and it's gone??] [I'm dying laughing, just said "come hit me," now actually got hit!] [This operation gets full marks! Full marks for failure!] [Screenshot! Making a meme video! Title: "Champion's Fall"!]

Comment sentiment completed a 180-degree reversal in 0.5 seconds. Donation icons not only didn't decrease but exploded due to the new selling point of "watching the champion embarrass himself."

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Lucas clutched his bleeding shoulder, staring at the smoking scrap metal in his hands, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. "5 billion points! S-tier item! How could it fail?! This is definitely a system bug! I'm filing complaints! I'm suing the developers!"

Elena paled with fright, collapsing at the safe zone's edge, suddenly shrieking: "Lucas! Your points! Look at your points—you've lost half!"

Lucas tremblingly opened his personal panel. Seeing his account balance, his entire face turned corpse-gray. Over 8 billion points became just over 4 billion—the evaporated 4 billion could buy an entire small guild's assets.

But the Ripper had no patience for accounting, roaring as it charged again. Its claws sparked against stone as its steel-gray body thundered like a runaway locomotive.

Lucas scrambled toward the safe zone, screaming an octave higher: "Save me! Fucking save me!!!"

His lackeys had to steel themselves and rush forward as meat shields, using their bodies to block the Ripper's pursuit. In the bloody seconds that followed, three subordinates were beaten to shattered armor and broken bones before Lucas barely escaped into the safe zone's protective barrier.

He collapsed on the safe zone floor, covered in blood, SSS-tier equipment in tatters, head and face caked with dust and dried blood. The once-invincible champion now looked like a beggar who'd lost a fight with street dogs over scraps.

The livestream completely lost control. Audiences laughed hysterically as comment density nearly obscured the entire screen:

[Spectator A]: Haha! 5 billion points for a lighter! Excellent smoking effect!

[Spectator B]: What happened to "I am god"? Why no shouting when getting slapped around?

[Technical Analysis]: Points evaporated by half, item inexplicably broken—definitely not a bug. Someone's remotely controlling his account.

[Tycoon Observer Group]: System logs show everything normal. Silent, precise strikes. This isn't violence, this is art.

Lucas watched the screen full of mockery, the donation section's gleeful "crash bonuses," humiliation flooding over him like a tide. He'd lost face before over 17 million people—his champion's dignity completely shattered.

"Who is it?!" He screamed hysterically at the camera, voice hoarse as rusted blades scraping metal. "Who's screwing with me?! Come out!!!"

Elena's trembling voice tentatively suggested: "Could it be... Viktor...? He hasn't said a word since this started..."

"Viktor?!" Lucas froze momentarily, then burst into maniacal laughter despite his bleeding wounds. "Haha! That waste can't even afford a teleport scroll! How could he possibly have this kind of—how could he—!"

The laughter cut off abruptly. Because he truly couldn't think of anyone else. He'd made countless enemies over three years, but no one could silently slash his 8 billion points in half and turn his 5 billion amulet to scrap. This method was too precise, too malicious, too... godlike.

More importantly, the livestream had completely lost control. Humiliating comments multiplied, "crash bonus" donations soared, and his former loyal fans began unsubscribing. If he couldn't create a bigger spectacle to divert attention, his three years of accumulated authority would collapse overnight.

Lucas forced himself upright, pulling from his bag's depths a card emanating sinister black light—[SSS-tier Abyss Invitation]. One of the game's most vicious items, capable of ignoring all rules to forcibly teleport targets into the current 100% death rate maximum difficulty dungeon. It should have been his final trump card against major rivals, but desperation left no choice.

"Brothers!" He hoarsely raised the card to camera. "Whether or not that waste Viktor is behind this! Today I'm making an example of him! I want the whole world to watch him get torn apart like a dead dog!!"

He crushed the invitation forcefully. Black fragments slipped through his fingers, transforming into countless crimson runes coalescing in midair.

A black teleportation array began forming in the bunker. Beneath my feet, circles of ancient runes lit up like some ritual beginning.

I sat in darkness, watching the gradually materializing teleportation glow beneath my feet, lips curving in a cold smile.

"Finally."

No fear. Only the arctic calm of waiting too long for this moment.