Chapter 1375: 452. Got shocked.

“Isn’t maintenance done yet?”

“It’s only been two hours, wait a bit longer.”

In the offline studio, the Winter Melon and Kelp brothers, utterly bored, sat at their respective stations chatting and scrolling through videos.

The sudden disconnection caught them off guard and left them anxious, fearing that it might be their fault if their first participation in an Alliance task ended in failure.

Fortunately, the situation soon took a turn for the better.

It turned out that the disconnection wasn’t an isolated incident but rather a serious event that affected many players.

According to the Game’s Official Website, the main cause was the enormous number of players inside and outside the Black Hole Magic Academy, which led to the server crash.

The Game officials were now urgently opening new servers to alleviate the traffic pressure near the Black Hole Magic Academy.

The players didn’t care about the server issues or the player count.

All they wanted to know was where the Company’s conscience was, where their sincerity was, and where the compensation was.

Facing the players’ clamor, the Company introduced a generous compensation for the disconnection.

For every 1 hour of game maintenance, the Company would provide all affected players with a Double Credit Card.

If maintenance exceeded 3 hours, then for every additional hour, another Double Credit Card would be added to the existing compensation.

At a time when players were engrossed in earning daily Academy points and raising Magic Pets, academic points were the lifeblood of the players.

At least 3 extra Double Credit Cards out of nowhere made the players who hadn’t been disconnected green with envy.

Many couldn’t wait to pilot their ships and quantum leap toward the Black Hole Magic Academy.

This opportunistic behavior was quickly curtailed by the Game officials.

Starting from 10 minutes after maintenance, the Black Hole Magic Academy was removed from the list of quantum leap destinations, and no player could leap there.

This measure couldn’t completely extinguish the players’ desire for compensation.

A small number of highly motivated players first leap to the Lisom Star System where the Black Hole Magic Academy was located, descended near an unregulated celestial body, and then went full throttle, cruising at top speed towards the Academy.

Such behavior was admirable, formidable, but let’s just say it was amusing.

The Ground Age already had a saying, “Watching the mountain run dead horse,” so how could the Space Age not have one?

Although the Black Hole Magic Academy seemed close, it was actually tens of thousands of kilometers away.

Even if the ship’s thrusters were smoking from the effort, the players’ clunkers wouldn’t stand a chance of making it there.

“But, it’s not impossible.”

Winter Melon, staring at the livestream, suddenly muttered and started discussing the content with Kelp:

“Look at this streamer, he’s installed a ‘Jump Knife’ on his ship and also equipped his Brain Chip and ship parts to extend the jump distance. Each time he activates the ‘Jump Knife,’ he can leap nearly 800 kilometers forward. Let me do the math…”

Winter Melon picked up the computer, quickly typed away, and came up with a series of numbers:

“He needs to jump continuously 30 times before he can reach the parking area near the Black Hole Magic Academy. Each jump takes two minutes. So, jumping 30 times would take nearly an hour. This guy might just barely rush into the disconnection zone before maintenance is over. He’s quite a character.”

Kelp moved closer to Winter Melon’s computer, looking at the livestream:

Indeed, this streamer was ruthless.

He had removed all the removable equipment from his ship, leaving only what was commonly known as the massive mini Quantum Leap Engine, ‘Jump Knife’, and a range of components that went with it.

The ship, stripped down to just the capability for continuous short-range quantum leaps, had no firepower or defenses to speak of, taking mobility to the extreme.

Any random missile, Laser Beams, or drones would leave the ship in shambles, with no chance of retaliating.

Moreover, the streamer was brutal to himself as well.

To combat the stress of continuous high-intensity short quantum leaps, he had stuffed his head with Brain Chips to stay alert and hooked up his body to buffer tubes.

He lay in the pilot’s seat like a hedgehog, the only thing he could do was use his mouth to command the ship’s computer to perform short quantum leaps, while also chatting with the viewers.

Kelp glanced at the number of people in the livestream.

Good lord.

There were 32,000 people watching a guy covered in tubes flying a plane, with the chat filled with mocking comments like “Bro, you won’t make it” and “If you do make it, I’ll eat a computer live.”

Clearly, the viewers in the chat had, like Winter Melon, done a quick calculation with a calculator and reached the same conclusion about the streamer’s leap time.

The streamer wasn’t disheartened.

He promptly played games in the stream, handing out red packets, ran a giveaway, bringing the livestream’s atmosphere to a new level.

“This guy really knows how to entertain,” Kelp remarked, clicking his tongue:

“If you ask me, he definitely timed it on purpose.”

Winter Melon asked in confusion:

“What do you mean?”

Kelp explained:

“Didn’t you calculate that he could just about make it to the disconnection zone before the maintenance? What I’m saying is, this streamer planned it all along. The aim is to create a show, invite the barrage of mocking comments, and boost the stream’s popularity.”

Then it dawned on Winter Melon:

“Oh~~ I see. If you hadn’t mentioned it, I’d still be in the dark.”

“Do you really not get it, or are you pretending not to understand?” Kelp asked suspiciously, feeling that Winter Melon’s tone was a bit off.