This is just the beginning.
Two minutes later, the notification pop-up began to refresh rapidly, the screen became constantly lit, and countless messages poured down.
"My God! That blind adjustment technique is so satisfying! As an active-duty Marine Corps sniper passing by, I can only say it's extremely comfortable!"
"No fluff, no background music, this is true documentary of death!"
"The way that knife scraped the bone was so smooth it was almost unbelievable; surgeons would be incredibly envious of that handle!"
"Followed! What will you bet on next time? I want to see Rocky Goats!"
The motor's vibration frequency increased sharply, and the phone slid continuously across the bedside table, eventually sliding towards the edge.
On the screen, the number of views jumped from three digits to five digits and was scrolling continuously at a rate of hundreds of times per second, with the end of the number becoming a blurry afterimage.
The battery indicator icon in the upper right corner is flashing, and the number is stuck at 12%.
A quarter of the phone's body was already hanging in mid-air on the edge of the bedside table, the body rubbing against the wood at a high frequency, producing a dull hum, and the glaring red heart on the screen was jumping wildly at a rate of hundreds of times per second.
The screen's faint light flickered briefly in the cabin before the battery died, and the screen went completely black.
At night, the wind and snow outside the window seemed to have stopped, but Su Wei did not sleep soundly.
The phone beside his pillow had a black screen, but the vibrations still traveled intermittently through the mattress to his ears.
Seven o'clock the next morning.
The sky outside the window was a leaden gray, and fine snowflakes tapped against the glass, making a soft rustling sound.
When Su Wei woke up, her temples were still throbbing from the editing work she had done the night before.
He stretched his hand out from under the covers, and the cold air in the bedroom made his skin tighten.
He fumbled for the phone and found that the back of the phone was actually a little hot.
Press and hold the power button until a red low battery icon lights up on the screen.
Su Wei rolled out of bed and plugged in her phone barefoot.
The next second, Su Wei's pupils contracted slightly.
"Buzzing"
The phone vibrated violently, and the interface froze completely.
Countless notification banners rained down, and the icons for YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram flashed wildly.
The shaking subsided after half a minute.
Su Wei opened the YouTube Studio in the YouTube backend.
The previously flat data curve suddenly spiked at almost a 90-degree angle at 2 a. m. last night.
"King of the North Slope: A True Story of Hunting a 450kg Brown Bear" - 8 hours of runtime. 1,285,400 views. 215,622 likes. Average viewing time: 9 minutes and 12 seconds (76% completion rate).
Su Wei leaned against the headboard, gently stroking the stubble on his chin with his fingers.
1.2 million views, with a 76% completion rate.
"Eek..."
Cotton Candy was woken up by the phone. The white fluffy ball of fur groggily crawled over from the foot of the bed, half-closing its blue eyes, and rested its head on Su Wei's lap, nudging his hand with its wet nose.
Su Wei smiled, rubbed the fox's ear, and opened the comments section.
The wind direction has completely changed.
The comments on the previous video, which were full of cuteness and people wanting to steal the fox, were completely drowned out by another voice.
"Holy crap! Everyone, look at 3 minutes and 45 seconds! That was an incredible move! He didn't even look at the anemometer!"
"This is what hunting should be like. No electronic dance music, no exaggerated screams. Just the sound of breathing and the metallic click of the bolt being pulled. The moment that shot rang out, I got goosebumps all over."
"Followed. This blogger is ruthless. Look at how he handles the bear skin; his skill is extraordinary. That knife in his hands perfectly avoids all the subcutaneous blood vessels."
"Where are all those people who were clamoring to buy the fox yesterday? Come out and take a look. This is the real apex predator. That fox was probably just a reserve food for the big boss. (Just kidding)"
Su Wei swiped down the screen.
The user IDs here are mostly distinctive; some use gun models as names, while others have antlers as their profile pictures.
They stopped focusing on the fox's fur color and began analyzing Su Wei's equipment, winter clothing, and his modified Winchester M70 frame by frame.
A comment with over 5,000 likes was pinned to the top, accompanied by a prominent gold logo: Super Chat tip, $500.
The user's ID is Ballistics Expert 1985.
This comment is long, but full of useful information:
"I don't easily comment on hunting videos because the internet is now full of clowns putting on a show in fenced hunting grounds."
"But this video gave me the creeps. Please pay attention to one detail: in the complex vortex environment of a V-shaped valley, the blogger directly and blindly adjusted the Zeiss V4's deflector knob by closing his eyes and sensing the wind pressure on his skin—1.5 mil to the left."
"After he finished adjusting, he lay prone in the snow for a full ten minutes, waiting for the bear to turn to its side and expose its vulnerable heart area. During those ten minutes, the muzzle of his gun did not sway by more than 2 millimeters."
"This means his core strength and gun-holding stability are professional-level. That last shot, 318 yards, strong crosswind, a bullet through the heart."
"This isn't luck; it's muscle memory honed from thousands of bullets. If you don't believe me, go look at the knife he uses to butcher bear meat—the precision is simply art. That's a true hunter. Respect."
Su Wei stared at that number.
Five hundred US dollars.
He left the comments section and switched back to the traffic source analysis interface.
Besides YouTube's organic recommendations, an external link source accounted for 15 percent.
Su Wei clicked to track, and the webpage redirected.
A black and gray old-fashioned forum interface popped up: Northwest Gun Enthusiasts Club.
This is one of the most well-known hardcore gun forums in North America, frequented by a large number of veterans, gun modification enthusiasts, and professional gun hunters.
On the forum's homepage, a title was highlighted in red and pinned to the top. "Found a monster rookie from Alaska, his bolt-action speed must be from a retired special forces unit!"
The original poster provided a link to the video of Su Wei and included several GIFs.
In the GIF, Su Wei fires, pulls the bolt, ejects spent cartridges, and loads the gun in the wind and snow. His movements are fluid and smooth, without any unnecessary tremors.
The forum has already received over 500 replies:
"That bolt-action speed... that's definitely tactical rapid-fire training."
"The key is the terrain—the northern slope of Kodiak Island. For someone to be able to track such a large male bear alone in that kind of terrain... this person is no ordinary individual."
"Even seasoned guides wouldn't dare venture into the V-shaped valley alone in the heavy snow. This guy is either insane or extremely confident in his marksmanship."
"Has anyone figured out his location? I want to go see him. This is practically live-fire training material."
"His IP address is in Kodiak. This is the guide we're looking for. Those brokers who took us to hunt caged pheasants should all die."
Looking at these comments, Su Wei let out a soft breath, and his previously tense shoulders relaxed.
He turned off his phone, and the $3,200 figure in his earnings feed made him feel good.
"Come on, Cotton Candy, I'll give you a treat."
Su Wei scooped up the fox, who was still lazing in bed, and walked out of the bedroom.
He went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of ice water, and drank it all in one gulp.
The cool liquid slid down my throat, waking me up.
As he prepared to cut the meat, his phone, which was on the counter, vibrated again.
It wasn't a notification, but a phone call.
Laurent Laroche's name flashed on the screen.
Su Wei raised an eyebrow.
He answered the phone, pressed speakerphone, picked up a boning knife, and gestured at a piece of roasted meat.
"Good morning, Laurent. If you're trying to expedite the production of that bearskin into a rug, you'll have to wait for the tannery's deadline. You know how troublesome that huge thing is to process."
Su Wei's voice was low and muffled, as if he had just woken up.
"No. Damn it, I wish it was just about the carpet."
There was a commotion on the other end of the phone.
There was the roar of a range hood, the clatter of plates colliding, and someone shouting in French.
Laurent's voice sounded anxious, and he lowered his voice, as if he had hidden himself in a cold storage room.
" Su Wei, listen, the plan has changed. I'm in big trouble, and so are you."
Su Wei paused for a moment, then cut off a small piece of meat and tossed it to the Cotton Candy waiting expectantly at his feet, his tone remaining calm.
"Get to the point, Laurent. Aside from the sky falling down, I don't see any real trouble."
Laurent took a deep breath and spoke very quickly.
"That old guy... Charles, that picky Seattle banker, his private jet landed early."
"He's already on his way to the hotel, and he specifically requested that today he eat something that will make him feel the pulse of Alaska."
Su Wei's eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of light flashing in them.