The Western Hunan Blood God incident had seemed indescribably terrifying at first, yet it had vanished without a trace. It was like a massive iceberg that had slipped back beneath the polar waters.
It had appeared in haste and disappeared absurdly.
The next time it surfaced, no one knew whether it would smash a great ship to pieces.
Perhaps it would be even worse.
No one could sustain a ritual sacrifice on that scale now.
Nor did anyone know whether artillery scouring the earth could destroy the gods and demons in people's hearts.
The fifth day after Lin Feng went off the grid.
The final day before the Limited-Time Free Game began.
Brother Chen saw his fans frantically tagging him in his fan group. He logged into the site, and before he even opened Lin Feng's stream, he saw gift effects drifting all over the streaming homepage.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
Even Brother Chen was stunned by the gift effects sweeping across the entire screen and site.
It wasn't about the money.
He had money too. At the very least, he could afford to send all those gifts himself.
The question was, why?
What Brother Chen couldn't understand was why this big spender was sending Lin Feng so many gifts.
"I've got a bit of spare cash myself, but rich guys' thinking is still hard to understand.
"Is Little Lin planning to join an agency or sell his ass?
"Why make such a huge production of it?"
Brother Chen couldn't understand it. That lazy bastard Lin Feng had little ambition when it came to streaming. Take his latest disappearance: he claimed it was because his channel had been suspended, but Brother Chen had specifically asked around for him.
Three days, my ass.
If he'd just swallowed his