Chapter 9: The Cyber War God’s Humiliating Defeat

Even in some more obscure competitive games, such as Touhou Hisoutensoku, Melty Blood, and Tetris, Chajingyuan proved herself capable of mastering them.

Though winning these was far from as simple as her previous victories, she still emerged triumphant in every single one.

Ironically, the most perilous match was the final showdown in StarCraft II.

Chajingyuan’s game began exceptionally poorly; her Reapers’ attempts to harass the opponent’s workers were precisely countered, and her tank division’s advance was intercepted prematurely, nearly leading to its complete annihilation.

Only upon regaining her composure did Chajingyuan suddenly realize that this nefarious netizen was screen-peeking her stream.

To add insult to injury, they had perfectly placed a Dark Templar just outside her usual scouting routes.

A few well-meaning viewers in the chat barrage promptly advised Chajingyuan to enable a stream delay.

Of course, after Chajingyuan’s earlier rounds of dominating the entire internet, such “kindhearted netizens” had become exceedingly rare.

The vast majority of comments, however, were enthusiastically egging on the opponent with cries of “Easy kill!”

Precisely because of these provocative comments, Chajingyuan naturally refused to back down and enable a delay.

Moreover, even she knew that no virtual streamer would ever use a delay; how could one truly interact (or rather, argue) with the chat barrage if there was a delay?

All things considered, Chajingyuan stubbornly endured the pressure of being screen-peeked.

She managed her resources diligently, executed her actions flawlessly, and relentlessly bickered with the chat barrage, ultimately clinching the round.

Having been tense and sweating just moments before, Chajingyuan now radiated triumph once more.

“Hmph, who else dares challenge me? Who else? You electronic crickets, cyber amoebas, little shrimp in the chat barrage?”

Chahuayuan watched the arrogant white-haired figure on the screen, listening to her brother’s faint, boastful shouts emanating from the next room.

She felt utterly bewildered, unable to discern what kind of script she was holding.

‘Debuting with instant virality? A genius streamer soaring to stardom?’

‘Or debuting with a spectacular crash? A tragic graduation announced on her very first day, having incurred the wrath of the masses?’

The concurrent viewership in the stream had already surpassed twenty thousand, momentarily approaching that of a certain “Second Sister of the V-circle” who was intensely performing songs tonight in the virtual streamer section.

Naturally, it was well-known that every circle seemed to have a dozen “seconds”… but regardless, the numbers were terrifying enough.

Furthermore, the super-moderators, ever eager for a spectacle, had specifically elevated Chajingyuan’s stream to a temporary spot ahead of her rival.

Chahuayuan’s mind was racing frantically.

‘Judging solely by the viewership count, this was, of course, an unprecedented peak in her life…’

‘However, this method of reaching the top, characterized by “no sentiment, pure aggression,” was ultimately too precarious.

The chat section was currently a riot of instigators and trolls, making it impossible to gauge the conversion rate of fans and subscribers in the short term, and thus, impossible to draw any definitive conclusions.’

‘The internet had always functioned this way: people swarmed in for entertainment, only to discard it like a worn-out shoe once the amusement faded.’

Although her brother’s voice certainly sounded joyful—Chahuayuan hadn’t seen him so immersed and lively in a very long time—Makino Shibahime, who was monitoring the stream alongside her, also appeared quite entertained, seemingly without the same level of worry.

Chahuayuan was utterly perplexed.

The unfolding situation had spiraled into a chaotic, unknown realm, one that, as a mere inhabitant of Earth, she found utterly incomprehensible, incalculable, and unpredictable.

The only certainty was that the sheer scale of this terrifying carnival was already enough to become a long-standing legend across the internet.

“Mmm…”

The clock’s digits slowly advanced to “00:00”.

Chajingyuan’s stream duration had far exceeded the planned schedule.

While the broadcast’s entertainment value was undeniably at its peak, the concurrent viewership had inevitably begun to slowly decline by this point.

Regardless of the future prospects, regardless of whether this was currently a success or a failure, it was time to wrap things up for now.

‘Lest further complications arise.’

Chahuayuan connected her headset and discreetly prompted:

“Alright, alright, big brother… it’s midnight.

We can end the stream now.

You did really well, the broadcast was a success.”

“Hmph.”

However, Chajingyuan, still radiating arrogance, paid little heed to her sister’s concern.

Even Makino Shibahime joined in the teasing, sending a message from her own account to Chajingyuan’s stream:

[SC-¥40.00: “Alright, little Chizaki, stop playing.

It’s time to go home.”]

“Scram, scram, scram, crawl away.”

Chajingyuan, utterly oblivious, brushed aside this “motherly reminder.”

“I won’t offend unless offended, but today, if I don’t leave an unforgettable impression on this bunch of nobodies, I won’t end the stream.

Hmph, you want to know what a cyber war god is?

Today, I’ll give you a full demonstration!”

At this moment, Chajingyuan’s arrogance had reached its zenith.

It seemed she was genuinely intent on challenging the entire internet, planning an all-night endurance stream of consecutive battles on her very first day.

Just then, a particularly glaring and eye-catching message appeared in the stream’s chat.

[SC-¥30.00: “Streamer, let’s 1v1 in CS:GO.

Loser calls the other ‘Dad’.”]

“Ha, ‘call me Dad’? How quaint!

Chat barrage, my dear fellow, are you some kind of primitive living in the pre-internet era?”

Chajingyuan eagerly accepted the challenge.

“No, no, no, you don’t need to call me ‘Dad.’

That would be too difficult for you.

You couldn’t even ‘cheese’ me in a strategy game just now, yet you think you can turn the tables in a gunfight that relies purely on hard skill?

Clearly, you’re a bit lacking in the ‘beating of compulsory education’—”

“…”

“Alright, how about this: if you lose, you don’t have to call me ‘Dad.’

If I lose, calling someone ‘Dad’ is far too old-fashioned.

This time, I’m determined to beat you so thoroughly that you’ll have no choice but to concede.

No matter what methods you nobodies use—screen-peeking or ‘ratting out’—if I lose, then I, my cyber Russian girl Chizaki, declare that everyone present will be my cyber masters.

How does that sound?”

How could the multitude of chat gods possibly disagree with such terms?!

No sooner said than done.

The chat gods continued to fan the flames, practically salivating with anticipation.

Chajingyuan, flexing her fingers, entered the 1v1 room created by the chat god.

She then confidently took a bite of salmon, settling into a serious demeanor, fully prepared to add another victory to her tally.

Countdown: 3.

Countdown: 2.

Countdown: 1.

The chat god sent a message: [bu yao yi wei ni ying le]

Stepan Chizaki Official: “?”

Countdown: 0.

Everything unfolded in a flash of lightning.

“Bang.”

[Chat God |▄︻┳═—☆(>△<)| Stepan Chizaki Official]

“…………”

“…………”

Chajingyuan fell silent.

A tiny, elegant spinning top, wielding a small pistol, gracefully descended from the air, landing perfectly on Chajingyuan’s corpse before commencing a series of squats and stands.

The chat barrage instantly erupted into a frenzy, with the phrase “No matter what methods you use” flooding the stream like a tide.

[ “Easy kill!”

“Looks like a good death, meow~”]

[“Justice served by the cheater!”]

[“Damn, I’m a cyber master now!”]

[“Quick, quick, call us masters!”]

Chajingyuan grew even more silent, gazing blankly as the chat feed scrolled wildly.

“Chao!!!!”

A perfectly articulated, adorable curse echoed throughout the entire stream.

And this, after her stream dramatically crashed, after she became enraged, arrogantly insulted her audience, and challenged the entire internet to a duel… was the final, legendary phrase left by Cyber-Official’s first-generation talent, Stepan Chizaki, before her humiliating exit from the broadcast.