Chapter Nine: The Viral Video

“Let’s roast the Giant Turtle alive today!”

With a casual tug, Ye Han pulled open a spatial portal and stepped directly into a chaotic central region in the south, an area globally renowned for its oil reserves.

“Good thing it’s not dawn yet.”

Arriving at a certain trade port, Ye Han quickly located the crude oil storage, avoided the surveillance, and grabbed a sealed barrel of oil.

“This is really heavy!”

Although his original body had undergone strengthening, Ye Han was still within the limits of an ordinary human; this barrel weighed over 130 kilograms. Using all his strength, he could only manage to rock it a couple of times.

“That turtle’s shell is three meters wide, and with the added water element protection, one barrel of oil is the bare minimum.”

All the barrels here at the port were large and sealed; Ye Han glanced around but found no smaller containers.

“Forget it, I’ll just send it over as is.”

Left with no alternative, Ye Han resorted once again to the transfer trick he’d used with the virtual helmet. He opened a dimensional passage directly beneath the oil barrel.

A milky white circle of light flashed, opening right in front of his vessel on Hanlan Star.

The heavy barrel from Earth, succumbing to gravity, plummeted through the portal and landed on Hanlan Star.

“When the time is right, I’ll have to find a way to send over other supplies from Earth too.”

Dusting off his hands, Ye Han glanced at the deserted port, then used his spatial leap ability to flash back to his bedroom in Jiang City.

From waking up to transferring the barrel, the whole process took less than five minutes.

Ye Han put the virtual helmet back on.

His consciousness returned to his vessel on Hanlan Star.

At that moment, Chen Xu had just left the factory grounds and hadn’t yet brought the others over.

Controlling the vessel, Ye Han carefully checked the oil barrel; seeing it undamaged, he pried open the seal.

A full barrel of thick black oil filled his view. “Now, I just need to figure out how to lure the turtle out of the factory.”

Setting it alight inside might send the turtle rampaging through the production lines.

It would be safer to draw it outside.

Still, Ye Han had no intention of intervening further. He’d done his part in the initial setup.

If, with this barrel of oil, they still couldn’t deal with a lumbering turtle, maybe it was time for Ye Han to consider coming clean with the authorities and borrowing the military’s strength to bring order to Hanlan Star.

But unless absolutely necessary, he didn’t want to involve the military.

Once organized forces set foot here, the natives of Hanlan Star might lose control of the situation.

Clutching the barrel’s cap, Ye Han turned and ran out.

He found Chen Xu and explained his plan in detail. Chen Xu was overjoyed.

“That’s brilliant! Why didn’t I think of burning it?”

Excitement gleamed in Chen Xu’s eyes as he squeezed Ye Han’s shoulder. Ye Han replied with a faint smile, “I never expected to find an oil barrel right next to the production line either.”

Hanlan Star’s technological focus was on information technology, and though manufacturing was also developed, their industrial base was intact.

Oil existed on Hanlan Star, but it had long been phased out.

In the 07 Star System, as soon as a native civilization outgrew its primitive phase, its energy use was redirected toward planetary energy sources.

This facilitated the flow of resources between life-bearing planets.

Having given his instructions, Ye Han found an excuse to leave.

Chen Xu’s assembled team numbered over a dozen. With crude oil in hand, as long as they worked together, they stood a fair chance against Xu Hao’s group.

It was up to Chen Xu to make the most of it.

Ye Han didn’t have time to linger any longer.

“I still have four talents to draw; I must complete them before the college entrance exam.”

Determined, Ye Han guided his vessel back to the gene blood pool and slipped away when no one was looking.

Returning to his body on Earth, Ye Han wasted no time—his consciousness dove once more into Hanlan Star.

He instructed Yan Qiluo to set the virtual helmet production line blueprints as a reward, erased the data of the vessel he had possessed, and returned to the Liyang Star System.

At the same time, the green-furred turtle was finally lured out of the factory.

Chen Xu and Xu Hao led their teams, dousing the creature with crude oil again and again.

Gradually, the black oil soaked into the green fur.

...

Earth.

Xu Hao slowly opened his eyes. “I’m... back?”

Recognizing his bedroom, he pinched his arm, felt the pain, and finally came to his senses.

“Hanlan OL!”

A fierce gleam flashed in Xu Hao’s eyes.

The turtle’s agonized roars in the flames still echoed in his ears.

Everything had felt so real!

“Wait a second.”

Xu Hao jerked upright and grabbed his helmet. “Going by contribution, my reward should be the virtual helmet production line blueprints.”

On Hanlan Star, “Day Nine” had gotten hold of the oil, and after they’d joined forces to take down the turtle, the group spent nearly a day cleaning out the factory.

Once the area was secured, the player interface notified them that they had completed Mission Two: “Retrieve the Invitation Letter.”

When the system tallied contributions, Xu Hao, having led the team, scored 34%, three points higher than Chen Xu.

Among the rest, only Yang Qi managed 6%, while the others hovered between one and two percent.

According to contributions, Xu Hao received the full production line blueprints, Yang Xu got the control program, and Yang Qi, for his 6%, received the raw material list for the helmet.

Those with lower contributions got activation codes.

By Yan Qiluo’s parameters, each activation code corresponded to a Guardian Unit.

They could be transferred to others or kept for use in the event of death.

“Damn, the blueprints are real!”

Clutching the helmet, Xu Hao opened the data transfer module at the back—a light screen projected out.

On it was a detailed assembly diagram for the production line.

He couldn’t understand the purpose of most components, but Xu Hao was sure it was just a matter of time before the line was reverse engineered.

“No good—the control program is still with Day Nine. That guy’s as tight-lipped as they come; his real identity is impossible to trace.”

Digging out a video camera, Xu Hao began recording the projected content piece by piece, frowning in deep thought.

As for Yang Qi’s raw material list, he wasn’t worried; the guy had already agreed to join him in exchange for five percent of the helmet’s profits.

A reasonable price, well within Xu Hao’s acceptance.

“Never mind. If I get the production line up and running, I refuse to believe Day Nine can resist stepping out!”

After much head-scratching, Xu Hao gave up. The random selection of the first batch to enter Hanlan made it impossible to pin anything down.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit shared apartment, Chen Xu was verifying the authenticity of his control program.

“This program package isn’t written in any Earth language,” Chen Xu muttered, frowning at the projection.

Displayed was a data packet inside his virtual helmet.

The packet was sealed, written in an entirely unfamiliar language—cracking it was out of the question.

Following the instructions, he only needed to connect the helmet to the production line, and the data would auto-upload to the line’s core.

“I wonder if that Xu Ri Tian can really copy the production line.” Shutting down the projection, Chen Xu sat, lost in thought, helmet in his arms.

The projection indicated that the data packet included a “manufacturing quantity” parameter window, which could read his brainwaves.

He could control the output with his thoughts.

With this authority, he was fully qualified to negotiate with Xu Ri Tian.

“The times have changed,” Chen Xu whispered, when suddenly he remembered something, grabbed his phone, opened a chat app, and rapidly typed a message.

Day Nine: Goddess Miao, are you there? Are you there?

Meow Meow Meow: What’s up? I’m out running. If you have something to say, hurry. And bring me a taro macchiato tomorrow, okay?

Day Nine: Uh, I might quit my job soon, so I won’t be able to bring you milk tea every day.

Meow Meow Meow: Quit? What’s the problem?

Meow Meow Meow: In that case, let’s just delete each other. We probably won’t meet again anyway.

Day Nine: No, wait, I’m telling you—I’ve struck it rich! (Red exclamation)

The other party has enabled friend verification. You are not their friend. Please send a friend request and wait for approval before you can chat.

Day Nine: [Little One, Do You Have Many Questions.jpg] (Red exclamation)

“She deleted me just like that?”

Staring at the string of red exclamation points in the chat, Chen Xu was dumbfounded.

So all that milk tea he brought her for half a year was for nothing?

“Damn it!”

He slammed his phone on the bed. Only now did Chen Xu truly see his so-called goddess for who she was.

But as Chen Xu stewed in frustration—

A Hanlan Star-related video was already trending on Huahua Station.

The video detailed the contribution analysis of the turtle’s slaying.

Compiled from over twenty perspectives, it documented every step at the virtual helmet factory and the fiery demise of the green-furred turtle.

The video swept through scenes featuring architecture and unknown instruments utterly alien to Earth.

At the end, the camera even panned over the gene blood pool.

Since it was morning rush hour, with many browsing their phones, the video’s views skyrocketed, climbing the charts by tens of thousands per minute.

Bullet comments quickly filled the screen—not just endless shouts of “What the hell!” but also meticulous analysis and speculation.

Within an hour, the surging video began to rival the biggest platforms like Douyin, Yitiao, and Langbo.

Earth.

In the chairman’s office of Xu Mining Company, Chairman Xu Zhi stared at a Huahua Station link sent by his only son, his temples throbbing.

If not for the DNA test confirming the boy’s parentage, Xu Zhi would’ve smacked him with the nearest file.

A phone call and a video link—was that really enough for him to abandon his company’s main business?

Transform a mining conglomerate worth billions into a helmet manufacturer?

How many helmets would he have to sell just to break even!

Xu Zhi glowered at the pile of documents on his desk, more exasperated than ever—though, above all, he was furious at his son’s lack of ambition.

“I’ll see what snake oil this brat is selling,” Xu Zhi muttered, suppressing his anger as he clicked the link.

The video was titled: Second World “Hanlan OL” Closed Beta Test!

The title wasn’t exactly dazzling, but it got to the point.

“Cheap tricks,” Xu Zhi snorted, his brows knitted, and pressed play.

The video opened on a pitch-black background, a single line of white text displayed:

“The whole world is false; I can no longer tell which is real.”