Thrilling Live Stream 017

"What the hell is going on?"

"Oh my god, check the official announcement!"

"The mist over all the cities that were previously corrupted has completely dissipated!"

"What's happening? Has the supernatural invasion ended?"

"This feels unreal—no way, right?"

"The livestream hasn't been cut off yet."

As all players exited the game, a man adjusting his clothes appeared in every livestream. He casually wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

"Uh, well, you all know me, right? So, after relentless negotiations by our Xia Kingdom, the supernatural world has agreed to halt the game."

The livestream fell into stunned silence, an overwhelming sense of unreality gripping everyone.

"Quick, slap me."

"Fang Zhiyi, swear on your life—Xia Kingdom people don’t lie to Xia Kingdom people."

"Ugh, I feel like crying."

Fang Zhiyi raised a hand to gesture for calm, assuming the chatter must be deafening. "Next, regarding the supernatural world’s portals—they won’t be closed permanently."

"We’ll maintain transmission channels in every country. That means the supernatural game will continue, but the participants will now be serious criminals." Fang Zhiyi leaned closer to the screen and whispered, "Send as many as you can."

And just like that, the thirty-year-long supernatural game came to an end.

Fang Zhiyi continued running his chain of convenience stores. By now, he was almost certain of his theory—the supernatural world was a reflection of the human world. Those twisted emotions, malice, and unresolved grudges had gradually coalesced into this realm. The two worlds weren’t originally connected, but thanks to that lunatic’s meddling, they’d become linked. Separating them again would take time.

Soon, a batch of criminals was delivered to the supernatural world.

Staring at the bleak, gray farm, some criminals trembled in fear, while others buzzed with excitement.

But they quickly learned the meaning of despair.

A horde of supernatural beings herded them into cattle pens, selecting only a few with lighter crimes to participate in the games. The rest were put to work—until death, after which they’d be processed into food.

The livestream remained as lively as ever.

"Damn, that guy’s a rapist!"

"No wonder that female supernatural keeps chasing him with scissors."

"The human trafficker downstairs has it worse."

"‘Worse’? More like ‘deserved’!"

"It’s horrifying—a grown man with broken limbs stuffed into a crib, forced to entertain that supernatural ‘mother.’"

"The perfect fate for a human trafficker."

"They’re all doomed."

"Wait—was that Fang Zhiyi just now?"

"Holy crap, it really is him!"

"What’s he doing? Is he an NPC too?" By now, everyone accepted that Fang Zhiyi was supernatural, but that didn’t make Xia Kingdom adore him any less.

"Hold up, look at the sign across the street!"

A bright red billboard stood out: Rebirth: I Opened a Supermarket in the Supernatural World.

"How do I even describe this title? It’s reigniting my love for novels."

"Fang’s business empire is expanding."

With the last criminal’s death, the livestream cut off.

Almost overnight, crime rates plummeted worldwide. Before, criminals only faced prison—now, governments rated offenses and shipped the worst offenders straight to the supernatural world. None ever returned.

Then, something even more surreal happened. After the human world stabilized, the livestream morphed into a supernatural news channel.

"The supernatural world invites Xia Kingdom, X Country, and others for diplomatic visits."

Crowds flocked to watch again.

Fang Zhiyi and a delegation of supernatural beings sat down with human representatives, successfully negotiating aid projects and even securing seeds for agriculture.

"Third High School now open for enrollment."

The livestream showed supernatural children laughing as they entered the school, clutching new textbooks. Human teachers arrived too, each guarded by a fierce supernatural escort.

New buildings rose from the ground. Meanwhile, Cheng Xiang, the permanent human representative, faced a familiar supernatural being.

She’d abandoned her baby carriage, now dressed like an ordinary girl next door—except for her grayish complexion.

Fang Zhiyi walked in, teasing, "Just say yes already."

Cheng Xiang shook his head like a rattle drum. Luckily, the female supernatural didn’t push further—she just showed up daily to check in.

Viewers watched the supernatural world evolve. Tourism opened in the old district, offering humans the chance to experience the world’s largest haunted house and immersive horror games. The venture became a booming industry for both worlds.

Fang Zhiyi exhaled in relief at the sight of green vegetables sprouting in the farm.

This world hadn’t seen living greenery in ages.

Little Hei was still digesting the false god it had devoured.

Forty years later, the supernatural world finally severed its connection to the human world. In the final livestream, Fang Zhiyi and other well-known supernatural beings appeared one by one, bidding farewell to their human friends.

The mood was heavy with emotion.

Everyone had witnessed the supernatural world’s transformation. Though remnants of resentment lingered—and the beings still harbored a hunger for humans—time had softened the chaos of their origins.

Fang Zhiyi knew the link had to be cut. Without him to keep the supernatural beings in check, chaos would return.

Watching a dozen supernatural beings argue over demolishing the old district (now that human tourists were gone), Fang Zhiyi chuckled. Hands behind his back, he gazed out the window at the gray city below.

Human greed and desire had birthed this world. Though the two realms were no longer directly connected, invisible ties remained. Whatever—peace, however fleeting, was enough.

Little Hei, now fully digested, stood beside him. Fang Zhiyi could barely recall its original form.

Now, it was a perfect miniature of Yue Anyao—even the clothes matched, no longer black.

"Heh, host, ready for our next adventure?" Little Hei fidgeted under his gaze, guilt creeping in at the memory of Fang Zhiyi’s injuries. "I’ll pick a nice vacation world this time."

Fang Zhiyi nodded. At least it had a conscience.

Years later, the supernatural world remained chaotic. But at the heart of its gray sprawl stood a towering statue—a man said to have driven its progress.

Well, "progress" might be an overstatement.