Chapter 52: Making the Headlines

After turning off the livestream, Chen Bo felt as if the weight upon his shoulders had grown heavier still—the fate of billions on Earth now rested in his hands. The gravity of this responsibility pressed down on him, almost suffocating. Yet, ever the optimist with nerves far more robust than most, it wasn’t long before Chen Bo managed to push the thought to the back of his mind.

His conversation with Director Xie had not been made public; to reveal it would have meant unleashing an unpredictable disaster, provoking humanity to turn against itself completely. At this point, concerns about personal desires seemed trivial. China had already discreetly shared the recipe for the Minor Rejuvenation Pill with the leaders of other nations—except for those considered adversaries.

In the race toward creating super soldiers, Chen Bo’s homeland had surged ahead by an incalculable margin. The number of super soldiers within their military had reached a staggering figure. Even the highest-ranking officials were not to be outdone; they too had taken a weakened version of the pill.

Everyone understood that this was not the time to release the formula or martial arts manuals to the public. Even as nations coveted these miraculous secrets, each guarded them jealously. Especially in America, a country virtually controlled by financial conglomerates, President Obhama was even more desperate to keep the formula under wraps. Ambitious as he was, he sought to break free from the grip of the oligarchs and seize full control over the United States.

Such matters at the highest echelons were invisible to ordinary people. What they craved were tantalizing tidbits of gossip—like the ones Chen Bo kept providing.

The People’s Daily reported: “Anchor Chen Bo has contributed two more martial arts manuals. The nation has honored him as a Hero of National Defense and awarded him the rank of Lieutenant General!”

Chen Bo had been in his twenties on Earth, but after crossing into another world, he was only fifteen—by the old counting system, at that. What did it mean to be a fifteen-year-old lieutenant general? Everyone knew this was nothing short of meteoric. Though Chen Bo himself could not enjoy these honors, his family could. It was another form of the classic tale—one person ascends, and the entire family soars with him. The phrase “even the chickens and dogs rise to heaven” might not sound elegant, but it fit.

After this announcement, not only was China stunned, but the world as well. If he was a lieutenant general already, would he soon be a full general, then a grand marshal—reaching the highest rank before even turning thirty?

At this moment, an even more sensational headline erupted across global media, with journalists sparing no effort in their coverage.

Southern Entertainment News: “Shock! Chen Bo was once caught peeking at girls while they bathed!”

This was, relatively speaking, a polite report; its tone was balanced, neither favoring nor vilifying Chen Bo. As it turned out, the paper’s editor-in-chief was a middle-aged woman, so she wasn’t as incensed as younger people might be over such an incident; after all, she wasn’t personally offended.

The Empire That Never Sets Sun Evening News: “Oh my God! Unbelievable—Chen Bo has already won over two top livestream goddesses, and this is the real reason why!”

The writer was clearly an obsessed fan of Yu Xin’er and Yu Shifei in Britain. While the article did not slander Chen Bo maliciously, it still painted him as a man guilty of unforgivable acts, stirring outrage in countless readers.

Their anger was not directed at the writers, but at Chen Bo himself. In less than a month, Yu Xin’er and Yu Shifei’s popularity had grown to rival that of superstar idols. They appeared on camera without makeup—beautiful in their natural state, captivating the hearts of countless men and many women as well. Their appeal spanned all ages and genders.

A certain entertainment weekly reported: “Chen Bo caught bathing by two goddesses—love at first sight, all thanks to his legendary virility. Rumor has it, a special supplement is behind his newfound prowess!”

This was obviously a tabloid, utterly shameless in sneaking in advertisements. If Chen Bo ever saw this, who knows if he’d be furious enough to spit blood. Yet secretly, some might message him: “Where can I get that pill? Give me a few too!”

Island Entertainment News: “Chen Bo’s Secrets to Winning Two Goddesses.”

Another paper headlined: “Who would have thought the nation’s newest heartthrob, Chen Bo, would be so shameless?”

And so, Chen Bo’s fame exploded; nearly everyone on Earth knew of the scoundrel named Chen Bo and the two goddesses Yu Xin’er and Yu Shifei. Of course, there were still plenty of people who had no idea who Chen Bo was. There was no doubt—travel to some remote corner and you’d find those who didn’t even know the name of their own head of state. Such was the world.

Chen Bo, for his part, was oblivious to all of this. He only learned of it the next morning.

When he opened his livestream, the comments flew by faster than ever, like a blizzard of green text across the screen.

“Hahaha, I finally got the first comment today! After two months of trying, I made it to the sofa!”

“Am I the first?”

“First? Someone already took the sofa—and my stool too—so now I’m stuck sitting on the floor!”

“At least you have somewhere to sit. I don’t even have a spot. You guys are crazy fast!”

“Streamer, you’re famous! You’re a global sensation now!”

“That’s right, you’re more popular than any superstar now!”

“Streamer, you’re awesome! But seriously—what did you do to my goddess?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Chen Bo hurriedly interrupted, still groggy from sleep. “What are you all talking about? Me? Famous? How? I’ve never acted in a movie, never sung a song, and I’ve never played Ultraman to save the world!”

His face was the very picture of confusion. Just then, “So Chill”—a familiar name who had been a regular in Chen Bo’s streams even before his world-crossing adventure—sent him a private message. As one of his oldest fans and the chat’s moderator, So Chill’s message came with a system prompt, which was the only reason Chen Bo noticed it among the hundreds of thousands of private requests flooding in daily.

Otherwise, his inbox would have been a black hole, with messages disappearing without a trace.

Chen Bo accepted the chat request. On screen appeared a young man in expensive casual wear—this had to be So Chill.

“So Chill, what’s up?” Chen Bo asked.

So Chill cleared his throat. “Streamer, I have something here—it’s about you. Want to see?”

“It’s about me?” Chen Bo’s curiosity was piqued. “Of course I want to see!”

“Just… don’t get angry, all right? Promise me you won’t get mad,” said So Chill, producing a stack of newspapers.

He showed Chen Bo each one in turn. At first, when he saw the People’s Daily, Chen Bo was delighted. But as he saw the rest… Well, he kept telling himself not to be angry, not to lose his temper.

Damn it all…