Chapter 130: Aftermath

The effect of winning five consecutive matches was explosive, especially considering all the opponents were professional players.

After Jiang Zheng ended his stream, Lin Yu sent a message to congratulate him, followed by some courteous remarks. Essentially, he expressed that the broadcast had performed exceptionally well and encouraged Jiang Zheng to keep up the momentum and achieve even greater success tomorrow. Jiang Zheng, however, made a request: they must find even stronger professional players for tomorrow’s stream. Lin Yu readily agreed, though how he would go about it was another matter. Exhausted from streaming so late, Jiang Zheng fell asleep as soon as he hit his bed.

...

"Supervisor, I’ve followed your instructions and kept Jiang Zheng steady," Lin Yu reported.

"Good. Let’s ramp up the publicity even further. Get me all the resources I requested earlier," the supervisor said, waving his hand with excitement.

During today's stream, the number of actual concurrent viewers had surpassed 30,000. Of course, the popularity figures displayed on the platform were much higher, but those were just for show; only they knew the true number of viewers. Thirty thousand concurrent viewers was, in fact, an impressive feat. For a newcomer with no prior fame or fan base, reaching such numbers on a first stream exceeded that of many established streamers.

The supervisor felt a surge of secret pride. He had made the right gamble. Many had questioned him, believing that betting on Jiang Zheng was a mistake. Now, it was clear that his judgment had been sound. Previously, he had put in significant effort, but had failed to secure all the necessary resources. As a newcomer, Jiang Zheng essentially started with nothing; with no foundation, no one could guarantee he would become popular. Resources were finite, and if one project received more, another received less. This was why, despite his best efforts, the supervisor hadn't managed to secure all the promotional channels. Now that Jiang Zheng’s debut had been such a success, those resources were within reach. Jiang Zheng’s rise would not only validate his keen eye for talent but also lead to a bonus for himself.

Just then, Lin Yu asked, "Supervisor, Jiang Zheng wants us to arrange even stronger opponents. Should we go through with it?"

"What are your thoughts?" the supervisor replied, turning the question back to him.

"I think we should stick to this level of professional players. It keeps the wins consistent and steadily builds Jiang Zheng’s popularity and heat. If the level is too high and he happens to lose, all our efforts will have been in vain," Lin Yu suggested.

"You make a good point, but you’re forgetting one thing: whether the audience will be satisfied with the same level indefinitely," the supervisor countered.

Lin Yu slapped his forehead. "You're right, Supervisor. I overlooked that. So, in your opinion, should we honor Jiang Zheng’s request and select tougher opponents?" In their industry, success relied on the audience's approval; if they were satisfied, money would follow. If not, everything was for naught.

"We definitely need to invite someone stronger than today’s opponents, but we don't need to make a massive jump in skill level. We can increase the difficulty incrementally," the supervisor said.

Lin Yu’s eyes lit up. "It takes you to make the call, Supervisor. I wouldn't have thought of that. One wrong move and we’d offend both the audience and Jiang Zheng."

"You still have a lot to learn, kid. Remember, the professional players we invite from now on must be at least as good, if not better. Never lower the bar. That’s the only way to maintain the hype," the supervisor cautioned.

Lin Yu nodded repeatedly, then asked, "But Supervisor, there are only so many professional players. What happens when we run out?"

"You usually seem sharp, so why are you asking such a rookie question? There may not be a huge pool of pros, but I’m not asking you to keep inviting so many at once. Later on, we can invite fewer—maybe just one showdown per night. Even if it’s slow, there will eventually be a day he loses. Or, to be more optimistic, he might keep winning until we run out of pros to invite. By then, his popularity will be firmly established, and he’ll have a large fan base. We can pivot to other content by then," the supervisor explained.

Lin Yu nodded, forced to admit that the supervisor’s vision was indeed broader and more long-term. He continued to learn from him.

"Understood. I’ll go make the arrangements," Lin Yu said.

"Go ahead," the supervisor replied with a nod.

...

The next day, Jiang Zheng woke up in the hotel. The bed was much softer and wider than the narrow, hard cots in the school dormitory. Yet, for some reason, Jiang Zheng preferred the dorm bed.

After freshening up, he headed toward campus, jogging the whole way as a form of morning exercise. He had asked his roommates to bring his textbooks, which saved him from having to stop by the dorms and allowed him to go straight to the classroom to save time.

He sat at his desk, and shortly after, his roommates arrived. Zhou Quanyi handed him his books and sat down. "Fourth, here so early?"

"Better early than late," Jiang Zheng replied.

"By the way, Fourth, did you watch the livestream last night?" Liu Hua asked.

"Livestream? No, why?" Jiang Zheng asked. He hadn't watched it, as he had been the one doing the streaming.

"Then you missed a great show," Liu Hua said, slapping his thigh in regret.

"What show?"

"I watched a stream with the boss last night. A newcomer was challenging professional players. He took on five of them in a row and won all five. It was insane!" Liu Hua exclaimed.

"That is impressive," Jiang Zheng said, nodding with a hint of embarrassment. He couldn't exactly say that the person was him. He hadn't shown his face last night, and the microphone's built-in sound card had altered his voice, making it impossible to recognize him.

"I heard about that, too. There was so much hype about it recently that I thought it was just the platform exaggerating, and that the 'professional' part was all just a gimmick. But last night, I realized I was wrong," a classmate nearby chimed in, having overheard their conversation.

Soon, Zhou Quanyi was drawn into the discussion as well. Wang Bing, however, remained silent. His own livestream last night had been a failure. Without any classmates watching, he had reverted to his true form; let alone tips, he barely had any viewers at all. A few people had clicked in by mistake, but they left before he could even finish his thank-you speech. Seeing another newcomer achieve such massive success made Wang Bing feel even more dejected.