【Emma Harris get back and start your own stream!!】

　　【I heard some haters just took the chance to attack my Emma Grant again? Got the guts to show up again? Daddy will teach you some proper chat etiquette!】

　　Brian Clark: "?"

　　He was just about to ask when he saw that Miss No.1, who had been running along, suddenly stopped in her tracks. After a moment, the microphone icon lit up.

　　"How did you all find your way here? Stop spamming, don’t disturb this streamer guy." The sweet girl lowered her voice by two tones, dropping the previous deliberate disguise. It sounded much more pleasant than her earlier sugary accent. "I just clicked into the wrong room, saw there was a giveaway, so I thought I’d join in for fun... and ended up being picked to play games with the streamer."

　　Before Brian Clark could figure out what was going on, a QQ message from Henry Grant popped up right away.

　　He thought for a moment and opened it on his phone.

　　You, Mr. Grant: Damn! This No.1 is actually Emma Grant!!

　　Brian Clark: ...Who is Emma Grant?

　　You, Mr. Grant: ???

　　You, Mr. Grant: She’s a top-three female streamer in the entertainment section of Xingkong TV! You don’t even know Emma Grant!! Bro, I seriously look down on you now!!!

　　"Stop spamming, I’ll start my own stream after this match." The chat was going wild, and more and more people were joining the stream. No.1 said, "Sorry, streamer guy, for causing you trouble."

　　Brian Clark returned to the game: "...It’s fine."

　　"Looks like the streamer guy is a newbie, but he’s really skilled and very kind. You’ll see if you watch for a bit." No.1 continued, "If you think he’s good, you can give him a follow."

　　Brian Clark choked a little.

　　Very kind??

　　No.2 seemed to have a broken mic from then on and never said another word.

　　Thanks to Emma Grant's fans spreading the word, after the game ended, the number of viewers in Brian Clark's stream shot up to 18,000.

　　When the interface returned to the game lobby, Emma Grant said, "I’ll head out now, streamer guy. Let’s play together again if there’s a chance."

　　Brian Clark added her as a game friend: "...Okay."

　　After Emma Grant left, the number of viewers gradually dropped, finally settling at 10,000.

　　Although it wasn’t as high as during the game, Brian Clark was more than satisfied. The goal he’d set for himself that morning was 5,000 viewers, and now he’d far surpassed that.

　　He snapped back to reality and continued to open the giveaway page: "I keep my word—today I’ll do giveaways for viewers all day. I’ll use my main account to carry."

　　Ethan Foster sat at his computer desk, thoughtfully staring at the giveaway page that had popped up, his mind still replaying the scene of the little streamer sweeping the car.

　　And after blowing up the car, the little streamer’s cocky and arrogant tone—clearly so full of himself, yet somehow not annoying at all.

　　...Actually, kind of cute.

　　Two minutes later, Ethan Foster casually opened Steam, found PUBG, hesitated for a moment, and clicked the download button.

Chapter 8

　　In the afternoon, Ethan Foster went back to the main company for a short meeting. By the time he returned, the game had finished downloading.

　　He launched the game, filled in a random ID at registration, and then instinctively opened the stream page he’d bookmarked.

　　"Alright, it’s six o’clock... I’m going to grab some dinner." The little streamer’s voice quickly sounded, "I’m eating out with my family today, so I might be back a bit late... I’ll try to start streaming before eight."

　　After he finished speaking, the stream closed not long after.

　　Ethan Foster closed the webpage and casually looked up the game controls. He’d watched a few streams and felt he already understood the basics.

　　Just pick up guns, kill people, loot boxes.

　　How hard could it be?

　　Until he entered the game.

　　The roar of the plane was deafening. He turned down the volume and, recalling the spot yanxyan often jumped to, decisively jumped out.

　　A minute later, he was still in the air.

　　Ethan Foster frowned—was the little streamer always this slow at parachuting?

　　He finally made it over the city, but before he could get a good look at the layout, gunfire was already erupting below.

　　Ethan Foster moved his mouse, just about to land.

　　He saw an enemy standing on a rooftop, and without thinking, aimed at him!

　　Bang, bang—

　　The screen suddenly turned gray, and before Ethan Foster could react, a line of text popped up—You’ll get a chicken dinner next time!!

　　"......"

　　He got killed in midair???

　　A rare look of confusion appeared on his face, and he didn’t close the page for a long time.

　　Looking back on his twenty-six years, Ethan Foster had always skipped grades, ended up four years younger than his classmates, smoothly inherited his family’s vast fortune, and in just a few years of running the company, the group had flourished. It only took him half a year to shut up all those old men.

　　—In short, whatever he did, the word "failure" had never existed in his life. Not even once.

　　And now, he actually lost at the starting line??

　　No man could stand being turned into a loot box in such a pathetic way right at the start, so Ethan Foster kept a straight face and started another round.

　　He changed his strategy and decided to jump to a place with fewer buildings. This time, he finally had a chance to loot.