“Hu!”
A sharp gust of wind tore through the sky!
Xu Bei executed a perfect backflip to evade, but an invisible blade sliced across his forehead, taking away a chunk of his health.
Yet, he successfully dodged the enemy’s deadly attack and created distance from the unknown foe, though the shock left him drenched in cold sweat.
(sweat pouring down)
(Dodged it?)
(He definitely read the strategy guide.)
(How does the streamer know there’s an invisible monster?)
(The streamer’s becoming more mundane.)
(Streamer, how are you different from other streamers now?)
(Have you not seen the clip where the streamer kills the overseer bare-handed?)
(Anyone still doubting the streamer’s skill?)
(The streamer’s cheat is legit.)
(The streamer’s “filial sons” are so many.)
The barrage of comments kept questioning.
At the same time, a wave of counter-comments defending the streamer appeared. These people were clearly fans who had long accepted the “unfilial sons.”
In this chaotic age of the internet, the streamer’s fans had earned a new nickname from outsiders: “filial sons.”
Originally, “filial son” was undoubtedly a positive term—no explanation needed.
But nowadays online, netizens love to sarcastically call fans of a certain streamer or celebrity “filial sons.”
It’s basically an insult implying you’re acting like someone’s obedient son—a popular snarky phrase.
So when some comments called others defending the streamer “filial sons,” that was what they meant.
Before, the stream was a chaotic mess with endless insults toward “unfilial sons,” but now there was finally a moderator.
Malicious comments could no longer openly insult, so they found another weapon.
Since trolling didn’t work, they became “stringers,” speaking in veiled tones so the moderators couldn’t easily figure out their true intentions.
Stringers were hard to catch because they mastered the art of speaking.
Their main tactics included indirect insults, reverse compliments, pretending to be confused, politely greeting family members, and wishing good health—all without a single curse word.
Yet, when combined, the words made people feel disgusted.
“Xu Ge, I figured out how to set your livestream up. You can go into settings, choose ‘enter my livestream,’ then select ‘small window display,’” Little Parrot said seriously.
In real life, Sun Xiaohui was monitoring the chat as the second account while scrolling through a strategy guide on her smartphone.
The strangest thing was that next to her was a sketchbook, where she was drawing a detailed sketch of a scorpion with a pencil.
Suddenly, Sun Xiaohui urgently shouted into her headset microphone, “It’s a scorpion! Xu Ge, watch out for the scorpion!”
This was clairvoyance!
She was actually using clairvoyance through the screen?
“Now’s not the time to adjust the livestream. Scorpion? How do you know there’s a monster above me? It’s invisible, so how do you know it’s a scorpion?” Xu Bei asked, retreating to put distance between them.
The more he thought about it, the more strange it seemed.
How did Little Sun know there was a monster above his head?
Even he, inside the game, couldn’t detect an invisible monster looming overhead.
He was a demon with sensing abilities beyond ordinary humans—how could a high school girl figure it out?
“I-I’m a clairvoyance user!” Little Parrot answered immediately.
“Ah? Ah… ah?” Xu Bei was first shocked, then relieved, and finally speechless.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on it as the monster suddenly lunged, slicing through the air.
However, thanks to the warning from the second account, Xu Bei already knew the monster’s true identity—the attack was a sting from the scorpion’s tail!
He dodged again, swiftly pulling out a health capsule and swallowing it, restoring his HP to full.
Bang!
After taking the medicine, he spun around mid-air and delivered a flying kick straight at the transparent scorpion tail.
The disturbed air fluttered chaotically, and the empty floor echoed with a heavy thud.
Soon after, the ambushing monster gradually revealed its true form.
It was a gigantic scorpion, its two massive pincers blocking the entire corridor. The tail was raised high, ready to impale him like skewers.
“I know you’re a seer in the real world. But how can you use clairvoyance through the network?” Xu Bei grumbled while defending himself.
“I don’t know either,” Little Parrot answered with just the right amount of sass.
If Sun Xiaohui said she knew why, that would have been the real mystery.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
The giant scorpion’s pincers snapped rapidly toward Xu Bei.
But such childish attacks couldn’t reach him—his maxed-out dodge speed let him easily weave left and right.
While dodging, he threw punches. The moment the pincers sliced past his face, he landed a punch.
But hitting pincers bigger than his head felt like striking rock—the blow hurt his hand.
It only chipped off a tiny bit of the scorpion’s health, roughly the same damage as when he’d scratched a monster bare-handed earlier.
After a few rounds…
The scorpion’s true name appeared: 【Uncontrolled Experimental Subject X1】.
Its long health bar stretched beyond the screen; a few punches barely scratched it.
He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be without the brass knuckles he picked up—this boss would be a nightmare.
This boss’s HP was noticeably thicker than the previous overseer boss, a classic big, tough, and bulky type.
Swish!
Just as its true name flashed, the scorpion’s venomous sting suddenly jabbed forward.
Xu Bei tilted his head, dodging the deadly strike.
But this time, both pincers swung wide in a pincer movement, attacking along with the tail.
Any regular player facing this three-pronged assault would almost certainly die—best strategy was to turn and run.
But in the moment to avoid the brunt of the attack, the streamer chose to stand his ground!
Xu Bei stood like a roly-poly, feet rooted like a mountain, upper body bouncing and swaying like a spring, dodging the pincers and tail sting, then punching to block and counterattack.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of punches tore through the air!
Though the boss’s HP was thick, it steadily dropped under Xu Bei’s Jeet Kune Do strikes.
“Little bug, your attacks aren’t even as good as a hair from the overseer!” Xu Bei quipped, dodging and punching with ease.
“Xu Ge is so awesome!” Little Parrot cheered flatteringly.
But just as he was basking in his own glory, the scorpion’s tail suddenly vanished!
“Hm?” Xu Bei frowned.
Not only that—the two pincers also disappeared into thin air, vanishing from sight.
“Invisible again! Xu Ge, be careful!” Little Parrot cried out.
“Child’s play,” Xu Bei scoffed.
Even if the attack parts were invisible, their trajectories were too predictable.
He casually stepped forward, lightly kicking the air, then flipped horizontally in mid-air to slip into the absolute blind spot between the pincers and tail.