Viewers could choose to watch the livestream of their favorite player, or, if not, they would have access to a shared screen where the game's recorder—like a cinematic cut—would specifically select dramatic scenes to broadcast.
To ensure the dungeon's secrecy, players could not see viewer comments. Even if viewers sent gifts, they could only make requests; leaking any information would result in a permanent system ban.
[Let's count, six people. So far we've got Butterfly Fairy, Great Hammer, ummmm… who are the others? Don't recognize them at all.]
[Exactly, this brain can only remember players ranked B and above, ha ha ha.]
[If Butterfly Fairy is here, this could be a rank-up dungeon. I heard she's about to break through to Rank A.]
[A rank-up dungeon? Then there's no way a newbie's here! If there is, that must be a demon in disguise!]
[Not all the players have shown up yet. Look, there's still one blacked-out livestream room.]
[What the heck, Arthur? Even a livestream room name can be that boring?]
[Totally hopeless.]
[Sounds unfamiliar… could it be a newbie?]
The main livestream suddenly shifted to the grand entrance as if responding to the viewers' thoughts.
A deafening thunderclap sounded, and the massive doors swung open as someone entered.
The noise not only drew the attention of the viewers, but also the eyes of the players inside the castle.
For a split second, everything fell silent; even the thunder outside seemed less noticeable.
Arthur could feel the piercing stares pinning him, sharp as needles.
The young man stood around one meter eighty, perhaps taller, since his back wasn't straight. His head tilted slightly down, his eyes lowered, his whole posture guarded and uneasy.
His black hair was a bit long, bangs brushing into his eyes. On closer look, beneath his right eye were two moles perfectly aligned, like teardrops flowing down. Below his straight nose, his lips were tightly pressed, and beneath the left side of his lower lip was another small mole that seemed to flutter with the movement of his mouth, as if ready to fly away.
He wore a short-sleeved white shirt tucked into slightly wrinkled slacks, as though he had just rolled out of bed. With an employee badge hanging on his chest and heavy dark circles under his eyes, he looked like an overworked civil servant—wilted and exhausted.
And yet, his face was strikingly unforgettable.
Humans all had the same two eyes, one nose, one mouth—so why could someone look this exceptional? Even his dark circles only added to a kind of weary, melancholic beauty.
[Oh my god, damn this game—who allowed you to drag my boyfriend in here?!]
[He was lying next to me last night, saying he'd work overtime to earn money for us. My poor baby…]
[Such a baby face, ha ha ha, just my type.]
[A beauty like this should be paired with a domineering big sis. Wife shielding, ha ha ha.]
[So it is a newbie? Can't wait to see the "pretty-face-only" crowd cry when this guy gets gutted by monsters.]
[Ha ha ha, just thinking about it is exciting. Following, following.]
[No matter how pretty you are, you'll look ugly when you scream.]
[Beautiful as he may be, don't forget—he's a newbie who somehow ended up in a Rank B dungeon. Who knows how wicked he must have been while alive.]
[This guy deserves to die!]
Arthur saw his personal viewer count jump from 0 to 5,000 in the blink of an eye.
Instinctively, he raised a hand to touch his face, his lowered eyes betraying no emotion.
"A newbie?"
A booming voice suddenly rang out, like thunder.
Arthur lifted his gaze toward the group seated on the sofas.
There were six people in total—three women and three men. Among them, two stood out the most.
One girl sat alone on a sofa, and even without doing anything, she radiated the aura of a leader here.
Her outfit was particularly eye-catching.
She wore a stylish white blouse with lace ruffles at the collar, accented in the middle with a pearl. The puffed sleeves flowed into frilled cuffs at the elbows, gathered neatly at the wrists with pearl buttons. The blouse was tucked tightly into high-waisted black pants, accentuating her slender waist.
But what drew even more attention was her collar design—shaped like butterfly wings, reminiscent of a sailor collar but with a fresh twist. The wings, outlined in black, shifted from blue to pink in dazzling brilliance.
Her hair was no exception. White at the roots, it blended into long, wavy strands of blue and pink cascading down to her waist, faintly shimmering with tiny sparkles—not the hair any ordinary person would have.
Her left eye was hidden beneath a white eyepatch, while her visible iris shone blue like the ocean. She glanced briefly at Arthur before looking away, the motion casual, as though the arrival of a newbie hardly deserved her attention.
If Arthur weren't a newcomer, he could have easily guessed who she was with those details alone.
Rank B Player — Aria Flutterwing — title: Butterfly Fairy.
"Ha, what are you staring at?!"
That thunderous voice erupted again. Arthur turned to see the man who had spoken earlier striding toward him.
The guy was enormous—easily close to two meters tall, his muscles exaggeratedly swollen and taut with strength. He wore nothing more than a black tank top and fitted blue jeans.
Rank B Player — Thora — title: Great Hammer.
Each step of his military boots struck the floor with a rumble… or maybe that was just Arthur's imagination, overwhelmed by the man's sheer size.
Before Arthur could react, Thora's massive hand shot out, grabbed his hair, and slammed his head hard against the floor!
"Bang!"
Arthur's eyes flew wide. A sharp ringing filled his ears, blotting out all other sound, and his vision blurred into a black haze.
Pain. So much pain…
His heart suddenly sped up from the agony, each beat clenching in torment—but his head… it felt as though it had been split apart!
[Old hands bullying the newbie!]
[The scene I look forward to most whenever a newcomer arrives, ha ha ha.]
[God, hit anywhere but the face!]
[Poor newbie—running into Thora right after showing up. Talk about bad luck, ha ha ha.]
Arthur could see nothing, could hear nothing—only knew that, in this very moment, the sound of the system echoed in his mind...
[Passive Skill: Activated!]
"A newbie being thrown into this dungeon shouldn't be anything ordinary. So what now, huh? Do something already!"
The thunderous voice of the man boomed again from above.
Thora glanced at the small boy struggling in his palm, and a glint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes.
In life, he had once been a serial killer—more than ten lives were taken by his hands—yet in one fatal mistake, he was burned alive along with the family of his final victim.
But he hadn't died. He was brought here instead.
In this world, he rose as if riding the wind. He even felt this place was a holy land, a place he was meant to belong. He had no wish to return.
Those stronger than him would never dare approach, but those weaker—shouldn't they worship him as king?
Sure enough, aside from Aria, who seemed indifferent, the rest cast hesitant glances toward Arthur, though none dared interfere.
After all, only Aria and Thora were rank B players here. Everyone else was rank C or below—even if there were rank Bs, they were newly advanced, nowhere near capable of contending with long-time rank Bs.
[ugh, this is boring, Thora, just kill that bug already! - Gifted 10 red roses!]
[Agreed - Gifted 10 red roses!]
The audience in Thora's livestream howled impatiently, unable to wait any longer, eager to witness some bloodshed for the opening act.
Thora's eyes curved with satisfaction as the gifts poured in without end.
This was precisely how one climbed quickly here—catering to the viewers' bloodthirsty demands.
And truth be told, their cruel requests perfectly matched his desires.
Lowering his gaze again, he saw the young man's hands trembling, perhaps from overwhelming pain. Arthur's head jerked spasmodically, his appearance pitiful and broken, as though he could die at any moment.
Pathetic. The type of prey is only worth killing for amusement.
"You know what? I'm just ending you a little earlier. A newbie like you could never escape this place anyway. I'm saving you from the long, drawn-out fear before death."
Thora laughed loudly, releasing Arthur, then raised his foot—ready to crush Arthur's skull directly. It would be a marvelous sight when the fresh blood and brain matter sprayed, mingling together!
[wtf Arthur really can't fight back, he can't do anything at all…]
[What did you expect from a newbie? First run, and he bumps into Thora. Talk about cursed luck for eight lifetimes.]
[Goodbye then.]
[No one's even telling Arthur to hang in there?]
[Ha ha ha, what a joke.]
Just as everyone instinctively accepted that Arthur's head was about to be stomped into pulp, a small butterfly with delicate azure wings landed gently on the tip of Thora's shoe. Shimmering powder drifted into the air with each flap of its wings, dazzlingly beautiful.
Thora's eyes widened, his foot halting midair.
He turned his head toward the girl quietly seated on the sofa, her gaze cold as ice.