Chapter 21: The Muddy Depths of Chapter Three

“Ugh—”

The character Chajingyuan was controlling found himself utterly surrounded.

Before him, black mud writhed ceaselessly; behind him, it towered menacingly; and beneath his feet, wriggling tendrils threatened to swallow him whole should he dare to loosen his grip.

Chajingyuan’s voice had grown faint, as if the suffocating black mud were not only in the game but also bubbling relentlessly from his own mind.

Chajingyuan increasingly questioned if he was truly a ‘brat,’ and one of the most incompetent kind—the sort who tries to steal a chicken only to lose their own rice.

The black mud within the game level, in his dazed state, began to resemble a mass of tentacles, tightly coiling around him, pulling him apart, invading and retreating, ravaging him over and over again.

“…It’s impossible to predict. The routes are so hard to climb. What even is all this?!”

At the same time, news arrived concerning Gengetsu Shiori’s completion.

[Streamer, streamer, the one next door has finished, they got all the strawberries!]

[No rush, there’s nothing left to lose.]

[The victor has been decided.]

[I find it rather endearing, this stubbornness, knowing full well they can’t compete with a pro player.]

[Getting thrashed, yet refusing to give up, all while delivering high-quality insults—absolutely brilliant!]

[I don’t think it sounds satisfying enough (pulls up pants).]

[Were those two red-text comments a bit too outrageous just now…?]

[Keep going, keep going! Since you’ve already lost, there’s nothing to be anxious about anymore.]

[Ahhh, I really want to watch the streamer being ‘abused’ by the game in front of him, while also teasing him from behind!]

By this point, with the target of their relentless teasing having successfully reached the summit, most of the viewers’ aggressive comments had subsided, save for a few relaying the news.

Of course, as if to compensate for the diminishing provocations, the overall ‘outrageousness index’ of the entire stream suddenly surged.

“I… I…”

Chajingyuan sighed weakly, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

“You lot, ugh, you hateful master bullet comments…”

In the main story of the game [Celeste], Chapter Three marked a steep increase in difficulty.

The first two chapters had largely served as a warm-up. As Gengetsu Shiori had mentioned, they didn’t demand intricate control techniques, and the jumping routes were relatively straightforward to plan.

Though Chapter One was riddled with spikes and Chapter Two featured a tense, terrifying chase, both chapters actually offered ample terrain, a high degree of freedom, and generous room for error.

Those challenging elements were, in fact, merely auxiliary tools designed to create an illusion of pressure for players when the inherent difficulty was lacking.

Even for Chajingyuan, his deaths in the initial two chapters were primarily attributed to being a ‘newbie,’ ‘unfamiliar controls,’ and simple ‘mistakes.’

Reflecting on the first two chapters, Chajingyuan suddenly felt they resembled his own primary and secondary school days.

Back then, he had been naturally intelligent. The curriculum for compulsory education wasn’t particularly demanding, and he had never truly feared any subject.

Any setbacks he encountered were merely due to ‘carelessness,’ ‘inattention,’ or ‘complacency.’

Chajingyuan had genuinely believed he could learn anything.

Dying frequently in Chapter One was due to ‘first-time kills’; only scoring 90 in elementary science class was because his parents said he was ‘too careless.’

But then came Chapter Three.

The terrain abruptly became constricted, the solutions for navigating routes grew incredibly narrow, and the omnipresent, oscillating black mud rigorously constrained the pre-timing for jumps.

A single mistimed leap meant all subsequent maneuvers were utterly nullified.

“…”

Then, reaching university, the structure of knowledge suddenly became systematic and rigorous. Beyond academics, the influence of family connections and the barriers to social resources grew increasingly stringent.

In such circumstances, Chajingyuan had obediently bowed to his parents’ control, choosing electrical engineering—a field both stable and promising significant contributions…

[Streamer?]

[Miss Maid?]

“…………”

[???]

[Could it be that the ‘bratty maid’ has been repeatedly ‘struck’ into unconsciousness?]

[SC-¥30.00: Streamer, have you disconnected?]

“Ah, oh dear…?”

The prominent super chat suddenly flashed before Chajingyuan’s eyes, finally jolting him back to awareness.

To conceal his momentary daze, Chajingyuan hurriedly slapped his face, raising his voice.

“No, I wasn’t! Who’s unconscious? Who’s disconnected?!

I was merely meticulously observing and planning my route. *Ahem*! This streamer is about to get dead serious now, and I’ll definitely give you bunch of trashy bullet comments a proper dressing-down!”

Chajingyuan steadied his breath, then leaped, clung to the wall, and wall-bounced.

With a precise dash, he deftly wove between the oscillating black mud, landing perfectly on the moving platform below, his gaze fixed intently on the next menacing heap of sludge.

“Heh!”

His foot slipped, and Chajingyuan once again stumbled violently into the black mud.

“Guh, not again, QAQ. M-Master… why is this happening…?”

Meanwhile, next door, Chahuayuan watched her brother’s wretched plight unfold.

In stark contrast, Gengetsu Shiori, having completed her speedrun, was now beaming as she recounted amusing details from her gameplay to her audience. The juxtaposition made Chahuayuan genuinely pity her brother.

Chahuayuan knew perfectly well that she was terrible at games. Strategy games were manageable, but action games were truly beyond her.

The levels her brother was playing filled her with dread just by watching.

While she couldn’t discern how much of his current pitiful, tear-streaked face was for show and how much was genuine suffering, his ability to persist this long was, in itself, quite remarkable.

“Well…!”

Chahuayuan let out a soft sigh, pondering to herself. ‘I’ll get my brother some supper, a little reward for him after he finishes streaming.’

“Hmm, barbecue? Or pizza? Or… no, we just had steak for lunch, too much meat might be a bit heavy. I’ll get him some sushi instead. Yep, one, two, three, and another one, two, three, add a small combo, perfect!”

“…Wow, isn’t he playing quite well?! He’s certainly adorable, but he’s nowhere near as bad as your bullet comments make him out to be!!”

“Eh?”

Chahuayuan, who had been engrossed in ordering food on her phone and had just returned to her computer with a glass of orange juice from the kitchen, was momentarily stunned by a string of exclamations from Gengetsu Shiori.

She focused her gaze, looking at Gengetsu Shiori’s stream…

“Eh? Why are both streams showing my brother’s content? Did Gengetsu click over to my brother’s channel to raid him during her own stream??”

Chahuayuan scrolled back through the bullet comments, only then realizing that Gengetsu had been explaining her speedrunning insights to her audience, discussing the game’s enjoyable aspects, and sharing amusing anecdotes from her practice sessions.

Gengetsu Shiori, being a bit awkward with words, found her explanations sounding rather dry.

Just then, a bullet comment mentioned that Stepan Chizaki in the neighboring stream was still struggling amidst the black mud of Chapter Three.

Deciding that discussing with a live example would be far more engaging, she resolved to observe.

Thus, her opening remarks from moments ago.

‘Wait, what did Gengetsu say? She said Chajingyuan wasn’t actually that bad at this game? Really?’

To think that her own perception, the sheer misery of the stream, differed so wildly from a professional’s assessment! Chahuayuan immediately perked up, listening intently to this ‘dream crossover’s’ ‘after-story.’

“…”

“Eh, what? Died fifteen times here? That shouldn’t be happening…”

“Look, look! That little jump and descent is quite precise. For a beginner to have this level of proficiency, that’s really good! Next, move one step to the left…

Eh, why are you going right? Aren’t you playing the A-side main story? Why are you being greedy for that strawberry? That’s not how you get strawberries, oh dear.”

“So, to get the strawberry, that’s not the right jump, so, oh… Eh? Whoa, whoa, he accidentally pulled off two ‘no-stamina jumps’ and actually saved himself! You can do that?!

Good, good, there’s hope! Next, cling to the left… Ahhh—!!”

“Eh? You’re asking what a ‘no-stamina jump’ is? Hmm, that would require me to explain the ‘stamina trick’ mechanism for wall jumps in this game…

Ahhh, let’s not talk about that for now. Look at Chajingyuan’s next life—whoa, amazing! He actually managed to cling on by force, didn’t he?!”

Listening to Gengetsu Shiori’s commentary, interspersed with professional terminology, it seemed her brother’s gameplay indeed held some skill.

However, despite his skills, Chajingyuan’s actual progress through the level remained abysmal. He was slowly inching forward, node by node, essentially piling up his death count and exclamations of “Goshujin-sama” to advance.