Because she had rejected so many times before, Xia Tongxin instinctively assumed this latest pop-up notification was just another rejection. Without a second thought, she swiped it away and continued sending invitations to Ye Cheng.
But with that little swipe, she accidentally kicked Ye Cheng out right after he had accepted the invite.
"User has been removed from the room!"
Xia Tongxin’s big, dewy eyes blinked in confusion as she tapped the glowing screen in front of her, murmuring to herself in a daze.
"Huh? Why are the words different this time?" Her large eyes brimmed with even larger confusion. Thinking tears might be blurring her vision, she rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists, wiping them dry.
Nope, still the same. The message really was different!
A spark of excitement lit up Xia Tongxin’s face, her earlier frustration vanishing instantly—though she was still puzzled. If the message changed, why hadn’t she seen him join?
Wait… had something flashed in the room earlier?
Xia Tongxin blinked her watery eyes, her head starting to ache from the effort of thinking. Ugh… too hard. Better not dwell on it.
For Xia Tongxin, even the simplest thoughts required channeling all her energy into her brain. Otherwise, her mind would stay foggy, and her gaze would take on that unmistakable "clueless" look.
With an air of someone blissfully unburdened by intelligence, Xia Tongxin lived by one philosophy: If you give up on a problem, the problem disappears!
Currently, her daily struggles revolved around: What to eat for breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? And which episode of last night’s anime did I fall asleep on?
As for deciphering why the pop-up message had changed—well, that was far too "complex" for Xia Tongxin’s mental CPU. Pushing it might cause a full system crash, so she opted for the classic strategy: Lie down and do nothing.
"User has been… removed from the room… What does that mean?"
Xia Tongxin blinked her big, "enlightened" eyes, pondering this "profound" riddle on her phone screen.
Then—Eureka! A spark of wisdom flashed in her clear, innocent gaze.
She had just kicked Ye Cheng out!
After inviting him so many times, he finally accepted… only for her to immediately boot him.
Xia Tongxin: "……"
"Waaah—!" The "air raid siren" wailed again in her room as she bawled, her little tongue wobbling adorably like a rattle drum. Sniffling, she wiped her tears and resumed her mission—furiously tapping the invite button for Ye Cheng.
---
Meanwhile, in the boys' dorm of Great Sea City Noble Academy.
"Oh ho? This little rascal dares to come back?" Ye Cheng raised an eyebrow, sitting up from his bed. He exited the split-screen tab where he’d been watching mind-numbingly dumb videos—the same ones he hadn’t finished during his earlier "python-like suffocation session" with Tang Yuyao.
While waiting for his next match, Ye Cheng killed time with these clips. Maybe because his last game was such a clown fiesta, the system took ages to pair him with teammates capable of carrying his deadweight.
At this point, the algorithm probably classified Ye Cheng as non-human.
Little did it know—this was where the fun began. The less "human" the system deemed him, the more unhinged his teammates became.
Last round, his four teammates had fought like rabid wolves. Ye Cheng, never one to back down, held his own—shouting down all four in chat. The result? A 24-hour voice and text ban, plus a 4-point stamina penalty.
Stamina was whatever—a couple of games would restore it. The system, that "righteous judge," would surely correct this injustice!
But the 24-hour mute? That was annoying. No voice chat meant no more 1v4 verbal smackdowns. A damn shame. Now, he could only troll in the lobby with "Cpdd" spam, fishing for free skins from gullible players.
Ye Cheng was the epitome of a freeloader—zero dollars spent, maximum emotional damage.
Despite never swiping his card, his skin collection dwarfed even whales who dropped hundreds. His secret? Mastery in the art of the grind.
Freeloading was an art form, and Ye Cheng was its obsessive connoisseur. Through events, team rewards, and skin fragments handed out by whales in voice channels, he’d amassed over a hundred skins—fast fingers, no mercy. Even a dog passing by would leave behind two turds.
After an eternity of matchmaking—no teammates, but an invite from Xia Tongxin’s room popped up.
"Huh?" Ye Cheng squinted at the familiar name: "NoobCarry/." Wasn’t this that little noob from before?
Now, the million-dollar question: Why’s she inviting me to a private room?
A) To "thank" him for their last pleasant gaming experience—likely via a verbal assault spanning generations, with "mother" as the epicenter and the family tree as the blast radius.
B) To gift him skins.
Tough call. What could it be?
Though bored, Ye Cheng wasn’t keen on losing lobby chat privileges too. Without hesitation, he declined.
No way. If the lobby gets muted, how am I supposed to scam skin fragments?
The instant he refused, another invite from Xia Tongxin appeared.
Decline. Pop-up. Decline. Pop-up. Decline—
Back and forth they went. Ye Cheng sucked in a breath. In this era of decay, such a stubborn prodigy exists?!
Fine. Today, the ancestral graves would not be spared.
Come. I acknowledge you. Bring your full might to entertain me. Witness the terror of my prime form!
Dust Release: "Mother-Erasure Technique"!!!
Ye Cheng snapped into battle mode, fingers poised like a ninja weaving hand signs. He accepted the invite and slammed the mic on.
"Yo—"
"You have been removed from the room!"
Ye Cheng: "……"
His insult died unborn. Staring at the system message, he felt outplayed for the first time. He’d assumed she was on level one—turns out she was playing 4D chess in the stratosphere.
She’d initiated combat, kicked him mid-sentence—no counterplay.
A master.
Ye Cheng wasn’t a sore loser. This time, he’d been outmaneuvered. Skill issue. Deserved.
In this world, the strong must trample the weak.
Silently, Ye Cheng dragged out his punching bag for a few "executions." Back in his sweatshop days under that exploitative boss, this was how he coped.
Whenever Ye Cheng felt the urge to charge forward in rage to teach the other party a lesson—showing them the might of a working-class hero—he’d find himself thwarted by their impenetrable defense, and what’s more, it was the protection of the Heavenly Dao itself!
The overwhelming pressure of the Great Dao left Ye Cheng gasping for breath, so crushing that he couldn’t even meet their gaze. Forced to retreat, he settled for buying a punching bag instead, so he could "vent his frustrations on a substitute."
"This punch carries twenty years of skill—do you think you can withstand it?"
Just as Ye Cheng got up, ready to properly "vent his frustrations on a substitute," another message from Xia Tongxin popped up on his phone screen.
Ye Cheng raised an eyebrow.
"Well, well, look who’s back for more?"
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
e school belle recognized by the whole school, a genius girl from the kendo club. She also has a hidden identity, the youngest legendary demon hunter. Chen Shuo just transmigrated and found himself turned into a weak, helpless little vampire. He was caught by Su Xiyen and taken home at the very beginning. Since then, Chen Shuo's life creed only had two items. "First, classmate Su Xiyen is always right." "Second, if classmate Su Xiyen is wrong, please refer back to item one." Many years later, Chen Shuo, who had turned back into a human, led a pair of twins to appear in front of all the vampires to share the secret of how he turned back into a human. "It's simple, I tricked a female demon hunter into becoming my wife!"
o a martial world and obtained a system that allowed him to draw one entry per year. Unfortunately, all he drew were useless white-tier entries. The probability for high-quality entries was extremely low, with the highest-tier mythic entry having a mere 0.001% chance! To increase the probability, he had to improve his martial realm, but he lacked the innate talent for cultivation. At the age of eighteen, Chen Yi fell into the hands of a gang and was forced into hard labor. Just as his life seemed destined for a bleak end, on his 18th entry draw, he actually pulled a mythic entry—Simulator! In the simulation, he could also draw one entry every year that passed, and upon ending the simulation, he would inherit all entries and his martial realm! In his first simulation, Chen Yi struggled desperately just to survive, knowing that living one more year meant one more entry draw! Finally, with hair turned white, he drew the entry he had longed for—Low-Grade Innate Talent! "Hahaha! Don't bully the old and poor! Time to cultivate and inherit my cultivation base!" ... From then on, Chen Yi continuously simulated and drew entries, his martial realm soaring higher and higher! Epic, legendary, and even mythic entries were gathered into his collection one after another! "What demon race or devil race? What dark turmoil? I don't know anything about that. They just charged at me screaming 'How can you possibly ascend to immortality?!' and got stuck to my fists, unable to be shaken off. Blind spots, speed bumps... go talk to my simulator. We're all struggling to survive out here. I'm trying so hard, so how are they still alive?"
