On the other side, Dorothy also successfully matched into the ga.
All the players appeared together in a temporary in-ga plaza.
At the center of the screen was a countdown tir, while the top-left corner kept popping up notifications of players rapidly joining.
In just ten seconds, the 100-player limit was filled.
Dorothy usually enjoyed playing gas, and she had so prior experience with third-person shooters, so she picked things up quickly.
In fact, the ga had almost no learning curve.
The controls followed standard shooter logic:
Crouch, prone, sprint, shoot, reload, switch scopes, and so on.
There was no learning cost at all.
Even players who had never touched this type of ga before could quickly understand how it worked through the on-screen prompts.
"Wow, that’s Porsccer, the strear with ten million followers!"
"I didn’t expect him to get an ad deal too. I heard ads for strears like that can be worth millions—so jealous."
"Makes kind of want to beco a strear too."
So viewers in the livestream chats expressed their envy.
But soon enough, everyone’s attention shifted to the ga itself.
The simple control sche made it very easy for viewers to follow along as well.
The only extra chanic was building and dismantling structures.
In the temporary preparation plaza, players were even given building materials so they could familiarize themselves with the basics of construction.
Once all 100 players were ready, the match officially began.
Everyone was transported to a new scene.
This ti, they were all gathered inside a flying bus in the sky.
Soone had apparently enabled in-ga voice chat, and faintly, voices from other strears’ broadcasts could be heard.
"Hey, Lawson, you’re streaming this ga too?"
"Oh, Turtle King, didn’t expect to see you here. Weren’t you a fighting-ga strear?"
"Heh, you know how it is."
"Ah, right. I get it."
They were all strears drawn in by the advertising money.
"Wow, there are million-subscriber strears in here too. Can I get an autograph?"
"By the way, do big strears get any perks? Like better starting gear?"
"No way. Everyone’s equipnt here is totally fair. With good luck, anyone can get strong weapons."
"Oh, really? I thought big strears would get special treatnt."
"Fairness, huh... I like that."
The strears openly used public voice chat.
At the sa ti, so smaller strears’ eyes lit up.
They suddenly realized a possible way to make themselves famous.
That is—
Find a chance to kill a big strear early, and let that strear’s audience rember their na.
So people are just born with a knack for seizing opportunities, even when those opportunities seem unreasonable.
As long as it brings attention, it can be enough to make them famous.
Soon, the ga interface popped up with the option to jump.
So players instinctively clicked to skydive, and their characters leapt from the flying bus toward the ground.
The ga chanics ensured that even players who didn’t manually control their descent would still land safely, without taking fatal fall damage.
However, so sharp-eyed strears had already noticed that the large map below contained many bustling city districts.
Before playing, they already knew the goal: eliminate all other players and leave only one winner.
Every location below could spawn powerful weapons.
They needed to grab weapons as quickly as possible, eliminate nearby opponents, and fight their way toward final victory.
Dorothy’s understanding of the ga was excellent—probably because she liked playing gas in her spare ti.
She grasped the chanics imdiately, glided toward a city at top speed, and automatically deployed her parachute just before hitting the ground.
Perhaps her luck was genuinely good.
The mont she landed, she saw a machine gun right in front of her.
Dorothy didn’t hesitate.
She sprinted to the weapon, just as another strear was also rushing toward it.
Dorothy was faster.
The instant she picked it up, she swung her mouse, aid at the approaching strear, and opened fire.
Before that strear could even react, they beca the first player eliminated in the match.
A few seconds later, the second elimination appeared.
Then, one by one, eliminated strear nas popped up in the top-right corner of the screen.
Most of them weren’t gaming strears at all.
Not everyone had prior gaming experience like Dorothy.
Many were here purely for the advertising fee.
They picked up the controls quickly, but that didn’t an they could compete with experienced players.
Among them was even a singing strear with over a million followers.
She blinked at her elimination screen, completely confused.
"Eh? Eh? I was still in the air—how did I die already?"
"Hahaha, you’re so bad, strear. Soone landed earlier and shot you down."
"I’ve already morized the strear who killed you. I’m going to their channel right now."
"Wait for , I’m going too."
The audience was in full spectator mode.
Seeing a million-follower strear get instantly wiped out—before even landing properly—sent the chat into laughter.
Maybe the ga wasn’t amazing.
But it sure was entertaining.
Watching strears get embarrassed like this was surprisingly fun.
The million-follower singing strear imdiately beca upset.
"I’ve never played video gas before, okay?! And you heartless people are laughing at ? Just wait—I’m queueing again!"
Within just a few minutes, more than twenty strears had already been eliminated.
The first thing they did after getting knocked out was queue up for another match.
No matter what, they had to get their face back.
I’m a strear with a million followers!
Getting eliminated like that was way too humiliating.
At the very least, they needed to survive a bit longer.
The million-follower strear was convinced it was just her mistake.
Earlier, she’d been too busy admiring the scenery and the map.
She was actually quite curious about video gas.
This ti, she decided to take it seriously.
At the very least—
She wasn’t going to get eliminated that fast again.
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