With Wan Tong around, what signals couldn’t get out?
So that scene just now had already been broadcast across the entire internet!
Inside Sou Ben, chaos erupted, while Lou Yan had already slipped away amidst the confusion. Wan Tong continued traversing the network, dropping explosive revelations—Lou Yan being betrayed and sold out by his friends, being watched by Sou Ben’s people, Lin Jielin’s true identity and actions… Having a god’s-eye view was undeniably exhilarating.
Players of <Palm Pet> had been waiting for good news, only to witness an absurd live broadcast instead.
Who could have imagined that behind this game lay such a dramatic turn of events—betrayal between friends, threats from Sou Ben, and the tragic plight of this slum-dwelling developer?
Most shocking of all, what was up with that Sou Ben executive? So casually using human lives as leverage—wasn’t that illegal?
As the night deepened, the internet exploded over the incident, forcing Sou Ben to issue a swift statement claiming that everything was the unauthorized actions of the Operations Director. The company had already dismissed him and would fully cooperate with police investigations.
In reality, because a player had called the police while watching the livestream, authorities had arrived and taken several game department executives, including Hei Pang, for questioning.
The next morning, Lou Yan was summoned to the police station for inquiry.
Hei Pang, seemingly terrified of Sou Ben, immediately confessed. admitting that he and three friends had secretly sold the game behind Lou Yan’s back. However, Hu Ming, Li Zi, and Xiao Nuo vehemently denied it, contradicting Hei Pang’s testimony and forcing the police to intensify their interrogation.
Meanwhile, Sou Ben shifted all blame onto the Operations Director and Lin Jielin, adamantly denying any knowledge of the game’s dubious copyright origins.
“Miss, you can’t enter the interrogation room.”
At the door, a short-haired female officer blocked Wan Tong’s path. Her voice, in contrast to her cold exterior, was surprisingly gentle, perhaps because the delicate-looking girl before her seemed almost unreal in her beauty. She didn’t want to scare her.
Wan Rong blinked in surprise and turned her gaze to Lou Yan.
At that moment, Lou Yan also looked back. “She can’t be separated from me.”
“But…” The officer instinctively reached for Wan Tong, only for her hand to pass straight through. Her voice instantly sharpened in shock. “Oh my god, you’re not human!”
Wan Tong clung to Lou Yan’s arm, resting against him as she playfully winked at the officer. “Sister, I’m Wanwan~”
The short-haired officer stared at the girl’s blinking eyes, slowly realizing, this sweet face was almost too lifelike.
But then she noticed the flashing green light on Lou Yan’s wristband, along with the activated sensory feedback system.
So… Wanwan was his in-game AI character.
But this level of realism far surpassed <Palm Pet>!
At that moment, she had no doubt, this young man was the true developer behind <Palm Pet>.
“Liu Jie, why aren’t you going in?” A young male officer approached, puzzled.
Liu Jie shook her head. “You go ahead. I’ll check on the others.”
The male officer glanced inside. “Why are there two people in there?”
“It’s fine, just go.” Liu Jie waved him off, she needed a moment to process this.
Inside, the young officer stared intently at Lou Yan. “Mr. Lou, do you have any direct evidence proving that you developed the game?” His hands clenched slightly on the table, betraying his tension.
“The self-destruct program is my evidence,” Lou Yan stated calmly. “And their testimonies, someone will talk.”
The officer was visibly surprised by his confidence. He glanced at the files before him, then curiously at the quiet girl beside Lou Yan, resting her chin on her hand and observing the room. “Mr. Lou, who is this young lady?”
Liu Jie hadn’t provided any information about her, yet she was allowed to stay. It was odd.
Hearing herself mentioned, Wan Tong quickly sat up straight, tilting her head slightly toward Lou Yan.
Lou Yan glanced at her exaggeratedly proper posture, the corners of his lips curving slightly. He reached out and lightly ruffled her hair. “My girlfriend, Wanwan.”
“Ah? I see…” The officer couldn’t help but take another look at the girl. Something about her face felt familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“But yesterday, you called me your little baby, how come I become your girlfriend today?” Wan Tong pouted, resting her chin on one hand, mischief sparkling in her eyes.
“Mhm, you’re my little baby and my girlfriend,” Lou Yan replied smoothly.
The young officer felt his jaw tighten as if he’d just bitten into a lemon. Clearing his throat, he tried to regain control of the situation. “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside.”
Otherwise, this interrogation might never progress.
“I can’t stay?” Wan Tong’s wide, dark eyes blinked in confusion.
The officer hesitated, momentarily swayed by her innocent expression. If Liu Jie had allowed it, then maybe…
Before he could decide, Lou Yan lightly tapped his wristband, and Wan Tong instantly vanished.
“All you had to do was warn me first, Lou Yan!” Her playful protest echoed.
Lou Yan eyed his device with a smirk. He shouldn’t have let her wander around in the first place.
“???” The young officer shot to his feet, his chair nearly toppling over.
What the hell, she was just a projection?!
But hadn’t <Palm Pet> already crashed?
How could Lou Yan still—
Wait. If he truly was the game’s developer, then this all made sense!
Forcing himself to stay calm, the officer flipped through his files. His eyes suddenly landed on a page, one detailing a virus detected by Songyu Corporation. The attached image looked eerily similar to Wan Tong.
He immediately lifted his gaze. “Mr. Lou, Songyu has detected a virus identical to your Wanwan. Both they and Sou Ben suspect that you’ve been creating and spreading this virus in the slums. How do you explain this?”
Lou Yan glanced at the photo on the screen, his expression unchanged. “Then let them produce evidence. I have never written a virus.”
Moments later, Liu Jie, who had just left, returned and took away Lou Yan’s optical computer.
Lou Yan did not resist—because they would find nothing.
Not long after, the young police officer took a brief statement from him, then lowered his voice and asked, “Can the self-destruct program be paused?”
Right now, Sou Ben was in complete chaos. Players of <Palm Pet> were all waiting for an answer, and as a player himself, he couldn’t help but worry.
“It can’t.”
The young officer was stunned. Bound by his role, he couldn’t voice his disapproval, yet he couldn’t say nothing either.
As a developer, was he really willing to see his game completely destroyed? Especially when so many players were still eagerly waiting?
Including himself!
“My optical computer, can I have it back?” Lou Yan asked.
The officer, still dazed, nodded. “Come with me. We may need your cooperation later. We’ll contact you when necessary.”
Someone from Sou Ben had taken responsibility for the incident, eager to distance themselves from the crime of using illegal means to threaten him. They were pushing for a private settlement.
Lou Yan’s demands were simple, he just wanted the game’s copyright back.
Sou Ben refused, instead offering him a high salary, hoping to recruit him into the company.
Lou Yan scoffed. Under police interrogation, Lin Jielin and Hei Pang started turning on each other. It was confirmed that he was indeed the developer of <Palm Pet>, but the contracts were signed by Hei Pang and the others, rendering them legally invalid.
Sou Ben was merely stalling, unwilling to let him reclaim the copyright, fearing he might sell it to another company.
The self-destruct program was irreversible.
When this news spread, the internet exploded.
At noon, <Palm Pet> completely crashed. With nowhere else to vent their anger, players turned to Sou Ben for compensation.
In response, Sou Ben deliberately exposed Lou Yan’s identity, thrusting him into the storm, making all the players believe that he was the one who had destroyed <Palm Pet>, that he had ignored all the players’ feelings for his own selfish reasons.
The moment Lou Yan stepped out of the police station, he was surrounded by reporters and a mob of furious players.
Blinded by online outrage, they didn’t care who truly owned the game. They only hated the person who had taken it away!
Standing on the steps, Lou Yan gazed at the dark, seething crowd below. Their angry questions overlapped in a chaotic roar.
“Are you angry because you can’t play the game anymore, or because you can never see the characters you created again?”
His voice was calm yet firm. The people in the front were momentarily stunned. But only for two seconds, then someone shouted in response, “Isn’t that the same thing? As long as the game exists, we can change the characters however we want!”
“Yeah! I spent so much money on this game, and now it’s just gone!”
“You destroyed this game, and I wasted money on that smart bracelet!”
“This is outrageous! I bought so many items, and I’m used to Xinxin guiding me everywhere. Now it’s all gone, it just feels so wrong!”
“I spent all that money and only got to play for half a year. How could I not be furious?”
…
The noise grew louder and louder. Lou Yan frowned, then simply said, “Once I reclaim the copyright, the game will be relaunched.”
“That’s rich! You expect us to pay again when it comes back?! I’m done with this!” someone shouted.
Others joined in, their anger unabated, faces flushed.
“Then don’t play.”
With that, Lou Yan turned and left, his expression as cold as ever.
This scene was quickly posted online, and as expected, it sparked massive public outrage. His social media accounts were flooded with hate.
Watching this unfold, Wan Tong found it frustrating. Effortlessly, she hacked into several trending topics that called for boycotting Lou Yan, burying them, and then started a new one:
#He’s just fighting for his rights. He’s all alone.#
At that moment, major gaming companies began extending offers to Lou Yan.
Under the new trending topic, many industry leaders spoke up in his defense. Some were just taking jabs at Sou Ben, while a select few genuinely valued his talent.
Perhaps because of their influence, even some players gradually calmed down.
Born in the slums, Lou Yan’s life had been practically predetermined. Few ever managed to break free. He had developed a game, been betrayed by friends, and fought against a giant corporation, all of this took immense courage. The game was his creation, how could he not feel the pain of its destruction? In fact, no one could possibly feel it more deeply than him.
During the half-year that <Palm Pet> was live, those who had betrayed him continued deceiving him. Sou Ben had even placed spies around him. He had likely suffered in silence, enduring endless torment like a fool. The fact that he activated the self-destruct program now, was it because he had finally discovered the truth? Or because he had lost all hope?
Either way, players had only lost a temporary source of entertainment, while he had nearly lost everything.
Though Sou Ben suffered a major blow, it was still a powerful company. Crushing an orphan from the slums would be effortless for them. Even if Lou Yan found a new employer, both he and the company would inevitably face immense pressure from Sou Ben’s underhanded tactics.
Right now, Lou Yan has the label ‘High Risk, High Return’ attached to him.