Vanguard of the Eternal Night

Ch105 - The Strange IDs

Chapter Ch105 - The Strange IDs

translator: xiin

editor: kara

Victor was clearly a little restless after they got home. He expressed that he would leave in the afternoon and try to get back as quickly as possible. He would be back sometime tomorrow morning.

Tyron knew that he didn’t want to share what he was planning to do, so he propped up his chin with both hands and looked on thoughtfully as Victor packed his luggage.

Victor didn’t have to bring much with him, but he still took a large suitcase with a lot of space inside.

While commanding the robot to clean up the house, Victor explained, “I-I-I, the place I’m going to has a lot of local specialties. It’ll be a waste if I can’t bring them all back, so I prepared a little more space. It’s better to be prepared than not.”

Tyron: “......”

After a while, a call came, and Victor snuck out to the balcony to answer it. Even so, Tyron still heard the words: ‘Take the express valuable goods passage’.

When Victor came back, he explained, “Erm, it’s peak time for the provincial competition, and it’s not that easy to buy air tickets.”

The master assassin, who had acting skills at the level of a film emperor, watched the other’s poor acting performance in silence. After a while, he nodded. “You don’t have to explain.”

Sigh, watching this kid try to lie was really enough to make anyone anxious.

Tyron took Victor to the airport, and the two chatted for a while at the security gate.

Victor smiled and said, “It’ll be super quick. It’s a ten-hour journey back and forth total, so you don’t need to send me off.”

Tyron: “Just communicate with me directly if something’s going on.”

Victor suddenly realized that there was a huge bug in his set-up! If Tyron sent over a video call right at a critical moment, should he pick up or ignore it?!

Victor: “Thisthisthis, thatthatthat, in fact, I... ah, the reception at that place isn’t very good.”

Tyron: “......”

Victor: “It’s not that I’ll be completely out of reach! It’s just that occasionally, suddenly, randomly, there might be short periods of time where I can’t pick up...”

Victor’s face was thoroughly red, and his hair was about to stand on end. His head began to droop, and his eyes locked onto his toes.

There were a few girls passing by who looked curiously at the two of them. Seeing that there was a young, handsome man standing to the side with a flushed face, they were instantly affected by the cuteness and kept looking their way as they walked on.

Tyron was wearing a scarf, his handsome face covered firmly by the material. Even so, he was handsome in his long trench coat, and someone soon noticed him after looking at Victor.

They could already hear the rustling sounds of people slowly beginning to discuss amongst themselves. The people on the provincial competition planet basically were all people who watched the games. Many people stopped for a while as they started to wonder if they’d just seen Lord Four––but, didn’t he have a final game tomorrow? Why would he show up at the airport?

Tyron glanced lazily to the side and scared the people who were peeping into shrinking into themselves before pulling Victor to the side.

The two of them went behind the potted plants in the corner, and Tyron pressed Victor into the wall again.

Victor’s eyes were anxious as he said, “Hurry up and let me wipe it off, or I’ll wipe it on your clothes!”

Tyron grinned and leaned in, chuckling evilly as he licked his lips.

It was too sexy. Victor went a little soft from the top of his spine all the way down to his knees, his hands slowly shifting from a weak struggle to clutch at Tyron’s waist.

Then, Victor suddenly felt a bite.

Tyron: “Hm, I seem to have seen wrong. There’s no ketchup.”

He didn’t pull away at all as he spoke. His breath was close, and the tip of his nose rubbed playfully against Victor’s, just like an old rascal who was playing with a child.

Victor didn’t hold back and took the initiative to launch a sneak attack, trying to give him a kiss.

However, Tyron pulled back and pondered, “Then, why are your lips so red?”

He licked them again, “And, a little sweet.”

Victor felt that he was steaming from the heat yet struggling to no avail, unable to get away from this rascal. He was like a pitiful creature who’d lost its shell, his brain full of thoughts about how he’d be pulled out and eaten again, staring at Tyron’s lips over and over again.

Tyron leaned over and licked him again, then announced that he’d figured out the answer, “You stole candy.”

Victor was so keyed up that his breathing stuttered. He spoke boldly and righteously, “You gave it to me.”

“......” Tyron couldn’t hold back his laughter.

He finally let go of Victor, then fixed his collar for him as though nothing had happened. “Don’t sneak in candy in the future. Hide the candy well when you’re outside in the future. You’re so sweet, don’t let others see it.”

Victor helped him adjust his scarf too and even knotted it up, “You’re so beautiful. Don’t go out if you don’t have to.”

The master assassin tsk-ed, then grudgingly agreed, “As you wish.”

At last, the two shameless people finished mutually flattering each other and came back out.

Victor looked back every few steps as he trotted towards the space ship before it took off. His thoughts were clear in his gaze: When would Tyron notice that he’d knotted his scarf?

Tyron really hadn’t noticed that his scarf was tied with a knot.

After Victor left, he immediately returned to his iceberg War God mode, his hands in his pockets as he left the airport indifferently.

Someone from the airport chased after him and followed after him stealthily. After a while, he pulled out an autograph book but was completely ignored by Tyron.

Tyron went straight home and started to contact someone.

The person he contacted was the operator in charge of the provincial competition’s semi-finals. He was responsible for a series of miscellaneous things that weren’t directly related to the competition, mainly the stage background, lighting, special effects, and so on. He also dealt directly with any special needs that the players, hosts, audience, and other staff may have––of course, he handled them according to the established rules of competitive bidding and was well-compensated.

It was nearing the finals, and the operator was very busy. Every day, there would be some people inexplicably sending him emails with bids and requests.

As an important staff member, he didn’t have time to watch the provincial games, because he was too busy with work during the matches. He could only watch the video replays after the provincial competition was over.

In the past two days, some people’s bids had become increasingly strange. Someone wanted to ‘spread out 10,000 virtual roses beneath the feet of the champion’, and someone else wanted to ‘fill the whole screen with the words, ‘I love you’, for three seconds’, and others wanted to put in advertisements.

However! The most inexplicable one! Was a group of people who were strange down to their bones––

Their request was: “We want heavy rain! A downpour! The heavier the better! The kind that can completely drench people in a second! You can set whatever price you like!”

The operator: “???” He really couldn’t understand current trends.

Fortunately, the authorities didn’t offer such special effects, because it didn’t have a good impact on the experience.

When it rained heavily, the host, contestants, and audience would all be wet. What kind of feeling was that? It would cause many complaints.

The official authorities only allowed ground effects, air effects, and public screen advertising. As of now, they had all been slotted in.

That afternoon, the operator received a message from a successful bidder.

The ID of the person who’d won the rights for special effects in the air was called ‘My Vic Is Six Years Old’. This ID was quite mystical and made the operator wonder secretly for a long time if this person had children or pets.

My Vic Is Six Years Old: “Is there a rehearsal for the fireworks?”

The operator quickly brought out the specially customized fireworks and showed him the parameters. He also sent him the multi-perspective video from the fireworks rehearsal.

Operator: “If necessary, we can write 1440 words or include a 60×60 pixel image in our special fireworks this year. It’s definitely enough for a human face!”

My Vic Is Six Years Old: “No need.”

In order to ensure that the night scene for the winner’s night of the competition looked wonderful, the operator also had parameters. After all, if the person who won the bid gave a disruptive command and affected the audience ratings, the official authorities would end up making a loss.

The operator quickly continued to make recommendations, “It’ll be very monotonous if it’s nothing but fireworks. We also provide eight hearts, eight arrows, luxury diamonds, and limited edition carnival background music!”

My Vic Is Six Years Old: “Who needs those fancy things? You modern people are too troublesome.”

Operator: “???”

My Vic Is Six Years Old: “Just follow the arrangements.”

He didn’t know why, but the operator always felt that he could sense two portions of arrogance and a side leakage of... arrogant narcissism from these dry words?

He lost himself in his thoughts and asked the director about this matter.

The director also pondered over this for a while, then said, “Do you know what the scores are now?”

The scores of the top six players were:

Assassin ‘Odin’: 11 points.

Paladin ‘Forgetting Worries’: 9 points.

Elemental dancer ‘Geng Chen’: 5 points.

Ability user ‘Little De’: 4 points.

Hacker ‘Universal Day’: 4 points.

Druid ‘Meowmeowmeow’: 0 points.

The director pointed to the scores, “Tomorrow is the match between Odin and Forgetting Worries. Look at the scores of these two people, the people behind them are basically unable to catch up, so the champion will be one of the two. The system has arranged their match for tomorrow night, so the championship night is basically taking place tomorrow, right?”

The operator didn’t quite understand and nodded his head.

The director continued, “Regardless if it’s Odin or Forgetting Worries who wins the championship this year, you can still preview some of their selected scenes.”

The operator looked up and saw that quite a few shots of Odin would appear regardless of who won the championship.

Operator: “...Oh!!”

The operator understood everything when he saw that face.

The director drew a breath from his electronic cigarette and said, “Do you get it now? The fireworks don’t need to be too fancy, and it’s the same for the ground effects. Don’t let these things distract the audience too much. On the night of the championship, our ratings will mostly depend on Lord Four...”

The operator went back and continued to discuss the special effects with ‘My Vic Is Six Years Old’.

My Vic Is Six Years Old: “That’s fine. The music shouldn’t affect the sound from the microphone. The microphone sound must be clear.”

As the operator replied, he discovered that the person who’d won the bid for the ground effects had also come to contact him. This person’s ID was also very mystical. They were called: ‘Antique Connoisseur’.

The operator felt that this person must be a loyal Odin fan, because this person’s request was: After Odin wins the championship, the ground should be covered in flowers from the sea of dreams, the petals should float around, and it should all be as romantic as it could possibly get.

Operator: “What if Forgetting Worries wins the champion?”

Antique Connoisseur: “Fill up the ground with landmines.”

Operator: “......” ????