The Streamer’s moves left quite a few Game Gurus blushing behind their screens, their fingers frozen on the keyboard, unable to type a single word.
(Game Guru? Pi Bro!)
(Laughing to death.)
(The Game Gurus are blushing.)
(Why aren’t the Game Gurus saying anything?)
(Is video speedrunning really that impressive?)
Very quickly, the chat was filled with a barrage of messages mocking the self-proclaimed Game Gurus, and the infighting started all over again.
Watching the battle in the chat was honestly more entertaining than the Streamer’s gameplay.
But in reality, the Game Gurus’ earlier analysis wasn’t completely without reason.
Because this Female Supervisor was a special boss with high attack speed, high damage, and low health—a boss that really put the player’s defense and evasion skills to the test.
And when it comes to defense, there’s a crucial mechanic in action games: [Weapon Block].
No matter where the monster grazes the player, they lose health—even if their toe gets stepped on, they’ll take damage. The only place on the player’s body immune to attacks is their weapon.
When faced with unavoidable attacks, players can meet them head-on using their weapon.
Blocking a monster’s attack with your weapon before it touches your body—that’s [Weapon Block].
This is a technique that only advanced players can pull off.
And this Supervisor launches a barrage of rapid slashes at her opponents, really testing their Weapon Block skills. She’ll destroy any newbie who doesn’t know how to block.
If newbies want to clear this stage, they have to grind Weapon Block techniques. Otherwise, it’s just endless suffering, repeatedly challenging the Supervisor until they finally get the hang of it.
That’s why, on game forums, this kind of special boss is respectfully called: “Instructor.”
But for the Streamer, all this talk was pointless…
Because the Streamer didn’t even have a weapon!
The Streamer couldn’t block at all!
“Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!”
Faced with the Electric Baton’s furious lightning barrage, the Supervisor’s relentless attacks left Xu Bei with no chance to fight back.
His own Lightning Thrust Punch was completely useless—the real lightning was coming from the opponent!
In the blink of an eye, the Supervisor had chased him from the stairwell at the end of the floor to the blocked stairwell in the middle. But her opponent was as slippery as an eel; for a moment, she couldn’t take down this crafty player.
But Xu Bei was drenched in sweat.
The corridor was too narrow; he couldn’t circle around for better positioning, and there wasn’t enough space to counterattack.
Trying to face off against the Electric Baton Lightsaber head-on was like jumping straight into a meat grinder.
Xu Bei could only keep retreating, backing up from the end of the corridor to the middle.
“Damn it!”
This was utterly humiliating for Xu Bei.
Who am I?
I’m a demon feared by all in the real world!
I ran away from home at fifteen, survived for years in Meteor Street, a place full of villains—what kind of evil haven’t I seen?
Now I’m actually getting completely overwhelmed by a virtual monster?
And not just any monster—a bikini- and high-heel-wearing exhibitionist pervert?
“How can you move so nimbly in high heels?”
“Did you glue those heels to your feet?”
“And those two jiggling milk bags you keep swinging in front of me—doesn’t that hurt?”
Xu Bei kept dodging and backpedaling, spitting out complaints as a way to vent his anger and frustration.
My life is already miserable enough—why do I have to get humiliated in a game too?
(Is the Streamer an idiot?)
(Anyone looking for real-life feelings in a game is an idiot.)
(Looks like it really is the Streamer’s first time playing a virtual game.)
(Is the Streamer just acting?)
(Streamer, stop pretending it’s your first time.)
(So the Streamer’s actually a guy? Unfollowing.)
(Aren’t boys even better?)
(The Streamer’s a guy? That’s even better!)
(What’s up with the Streamer’s gender, anyway?)
The audience started chattering again, and the Game Gurus in the chat began chiming in with their own commentary.
It was the first time everyone had heard the Streamer speak so clearly. Before this, Xu Bei had always mumbled under his breath—probably only loud enough for mosquitoes to hear.
Even though his appearance made it hard to tell his gender, his tone was unmistakably masculine.
Because a true moe girl could never imitate that perfect blend of scoundrel, punk, and loser’s impotent rage—it was instantly obvious to anyone who heard it.
Xu Bei had no idea the viewers were agonizing over his gender, and didn’t see what was so hard to figure out.
Sure, his face was a bit feminine, but his chest was as flat as a board—no way anyone would mistake him for a woman.
He never thought it was something worth debating; any normal person could tell.
But once people get online, their brains are bombarded by so much information, fake news, and negativity that “normal” goes out the window.
And after days of weird, inhuman chat with strangers, they can’t even tell if the Streamer is a man or a woman anymore.
Xu Bei was pushed to the brink—retreating any further was pointless. He had no choice but to force a breakthrough.
Even the Female Supervisor seemed a bit anxious that she hadn’t been able to finish him off.
“BZZZZZ!” The sound of thunder slicing through the air.
Suddenly, the Female Supervisor launched a fierce leaping slash—her power and speed peaked in that instant.
For most players, this was a guaranteed kill.
This move was well-known among players.
Even though its kill rate wasn’t high, as long as it looked cool, that was enough.
Games are about style, after all. Players called this move the [Three-Point Lightning Slash].
But for Xu Bei, this leaping slash was full of openings—it was his signal to counterattack!
“Barehanded Blade Catch.”
He spread his fingers wide, hands weaving through the air, all feints and afterimages, slicing through the wind.
In a flash, Xu Bei thrust his hands forward, grabbing for the Female Supervisor’s wrist, trying to use a joint lock to pry her fingers open, disarm her, and break her ultimate move.
But fantasy is beautiful; reality is harsh.
Xu Bei did manage to grab the Female Supervisor’s wrist, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t budge it.
Even though his enemy was a Jumping Corpse, no one would have guessed that this delicate, slender wrist would actually be as hard as rebar—and icy cold.
He couldn’t dislocate her arm with a joint lock like he did to other Jumping Corpses.
The moment he grabbed on, he felt an unbearable chill—he couldn’t muster any strength, and knew things were bad.
But it was too late. The Female Supervisor gave a flick of her petite hand, shaking off Xu Bei’s fingers with ease.
A boss’s strength was on a totally different level from regular mobs!
The Female Supervisor was a true monster. Trying to catch her barehanded was just a sign the player’s brain had short-circuited.
This actually touched on a game mechanic: [Stiffness Value].
Each time a player attacks, it reduces the monster’s Stiffness Value. When it’s depleted, the monster enters a lengthy vulnerability state.
Regular mobs have low Stiffness Value; bosses have high Stiffness Value—though that’s not always the case.
There’s no fixed rule for Stiffness Value; it changes based on the monster’s background and the game’s lore—completely up to the designers.
But in the age of virtual games, the concept is even more direct.
Stiffness Value is reflected in the monster’s physical hardness! Simple and brutal!
When players attack, their hands are jolted—letting them feel the monster’s Stiffness Value firsthand.
(The Streamer is human after all.)
(The Streamer’s skills are crap.)
(So rich and fragrant.)
(Watching a noob is so satisfying.)
(Say what you will, the Streamer actually grabbed the Supervisor’s hand.)
(That’s some skill.)
(Smells good, but also stinks.)
The Streamer gets wrecked, and the chat goes wild!
The moment multiple game mechanics come into play, the Streamer’s noob level is revealed for all to see!