Chapter 23: Showing Off Comes with Consequences, Doesn’t It?

"Let's go!"

Yang Hao stepped out of the room once more, now sporting a level-three helmet atop his previously bare head. Many recognized this helmet instantly. Cheng fixed his gaze, his mouth twisting in anger. Damn it, wasn’t this the very helmet Yang Hao wore before?

Meanwhile, in Lin Zijin’s streaming room, viewers saw Yang Hao reappear and wore expressions of knowing anticipation. Having witnessed the shamelessness of the Trickster, they realized the longest road they'd ever walked was the Trickster’s path of deception. Take it as a lesson bought with a level-three helmet—experience is invaluable! Many silently mourned for Cheng.

Soon, the deadly zone closed in.

Two cars, one behind the other, sped toward their next destination. Truth be told, Yang Hao disliked traveling with Cheng and his group, but because of little Dongdong, and Cheng’s thick-skinned persistence, Yang Hao had no choice.

Yang Hao held fast to one principle: treat friends with the warmth of spring, Lin Zijin with the passion of summer, enemies with the ruthlessness of autumn winds stripping leaves, and foes with the cruelty of winter’s chill.

Unquestionably, in Yang Hao’s heart, Cheng was not an enemy, but neither was he a friend. Frankly, Yang Hao didn’t like Cheng at all—a man’s instinct. Not because he felt threatened; Cheng was irrelevant to him. Rather, after brief contact, Yang Hao’s impression was simply poor. In his eyes, Cheng was not someone worth befriending, let alone forming a connection. Even if Cheng boasted considerable popularity on Tomato TV, neither Yang Hao nor Lin Zijin cared.

Yang Hao understood Lin Zijin well, so he wasn’t worried. No matter how Cheng tried to flirt or ingratiate himself, it would be futile. Lin Zijin’s character was such that, even with little fondness for Cheng, she wouldn’t deliberately target him, nor would she be swayed by his attempts to impress her.

Yang Hao, however, was different. As long as he bore no grudge, Yang Hao greeted everyone with a smile. But if someone infuriated him...

Sorry, he’d find every way to make your life miserable! Think of what happened to Cheng just now—that was proof enough of Yang Hao’s audacity. If he couldn’t beat you, he’d annoy you to death. Yang Hao’s art of provocation was truly second to none.

Of course, being shameless is a kind of mastery. There are many forms—some make your teeth grind, some leave you laughing and crying, others make you wish for oblivion. The specific mode depends on the person. As for the fine details of this art, they’ll be explored later.

In the game, Cheng stared ahead at the speeding Jeep, recalling what had just happened, a sudden ache shooting through his teeth. He had assumed Yang Hao was just a regular viewer in Lin Zijin’s stream and hadn’t paid him much mind, so his words at the staging area were a bit careless. Perhaps because of this, Yang Hao was displeased, and Cheng had suffered for it several times.

At first, Cheng’s anger simmered. If not for Lin Zijin’s presence, he would’ve already shot Yang Hao to pieces. However, just because he couldn’t punish Yang Hao openly didn’t mean he was powerless. Cheng had observed Yang Hao’s gameplay and gauged his skill. If Cheng had to sum it up, only two words would suffice: absolute novice!

Yes, a novice! In Cheng’s eyes, Yang Hao’s skill was pitiful. He landed like a target dummy, ran aimlessly, crashed vehicles—other than looting bodies and courting death, he did nothing right. Without teammates like Lin Zijin and Lu Ziqi, Yang Hao wouldn’t survive three minutes in this game—including waiting in the staging area, boarding the plane, and parachuting. The remaining time was more than enough for Yang Hao to end up dead.

Cheng had already decided: next, he would fully display his prowess in front of Lin Zijin and utterly eclipse Yang Hao. Though he didn’t dare compare himself to Lin Zijin, crushing Yang Hao would be easy. He wanted Yang Hao to see what a true master was. Only someone of his caliber deserved to team up with Lin Zijin.

Yang Hao, unaware of Cheng’s thoughts, would have laughed heartily if he’d known. Him? Really thinks he’s...

...

Heading westward!

The two vehicles approached the edge of the first safe zone; ahead lay the school and R City. There were surely people there, though how many remained was unknown. Checking the mini-map, Yang Hao considered for a moment and then said, "Let’s avoid the school and R City. Driving through would make us a clear target."

Yang Hao’s words reached Cheng, who curled his lips in disdain and mocked, "Avoid what? Of course we should charge straight in! Why are you so timid? Our squad in this game is invincible—gods or demons, we slay them all!"

Hearing Cheng’s bravado, Yang Hao knew he was showing off. Slaying gods and demons? Lin Zijin certainly had that skill, Yang Hao had no doubt—but what did that have to do with Cheng? Even Lin Zijin wouldn’t claim invincibility in this game; this wasn’t some beginner’s lobby. In high-level matches full of experts, who dared to be careless?

This game didn’t rely on skill alone—luck always played a part. Sometimes, fate would drop a fiery disaster on you, and even the strongest would be finished. Besides, who said they were on the same team? It was Cheng and his bunch stubbornly tagging along, calling themselves a squad—how laughable.

Moreover, they had no idea what was happening in the school and R City. The terrain around the school was wide open; driving in now was suicide. They could become sitting ducks the moment they entered—tempting fate?

Bang!

Just as Yang Hao was about to retort, a sudden gunshot shattered the calm.

"Honor, Changyuan used Kar98K to headshot and knock out Tomato, Fire Fox!"

Along with the gunshot, a notification appeared on the screen: the knocked-out player was Cheng’s teammate, Fire Fox, a streamer on Tomato TV.

Watching as the fallen man clutched his stomach in agony, Yang Hao sighed helplessly.

See, you tried to show off—and got your reward.

Justice never fails to arrive; it just prefers to be late.

That’s why Yang Hao seldom did anything so prone to karma—if lightning didn’t strike you, bullets would. He valued his life.

Wasn’t this the perfect example before his eyes?