Lin You ignored Zhao Lì and clicked the link, curious to see which unscrupulous tabloid was bold enough to stir the pot amid such overwhelming backlash.
As the page loaded, the bold characters “Sanwen Media” came into view.
Well, well. Familiar faces.
Now, let’s see what they wrote.
“Today, Lin You, a college student with a history of slandering innovative national tech companies, released a video of dubious authenticity.”
Nice. Starting with character assassination—classic move.
“He claimed to have achieved a groundbreaking innovation in less than a week, completely overturning the current state of virtual reality technology. He even described its effects as allowing ‘real people to enter the virtual world.'”
When did I say “real people”? Didn’t I specify consciousness?
“Netizens widely suspect the veracity of his claims, with many believing them to be highly fabricated.”
“Widely”? Wasn’t the vast majority cheering and singing praises?
“The basis for doubting his claims is twofold: First, Lin You has only received an undergraduate-level education and hasn’t even graduated. Previous investigations confirmed he has no lab internship experience, making his research capabilities highly questionable.”
“Moreover, the effects demonstrated in his video are completely detached from reality.”
“Globally, over a hundred thousand researchers—including the world’s top scientists—are working on VR development. None have suggested such results are achievable.”
“Thus, the likelihood of Lin You fabricating his claims is extremely high.”
“Many may ask: What’s the motive behind this disgraced student’s deception? Is it just to spite netizens? In the latter half of his video, he advertised a game—revealing his true intentions.”
“This is the second basis for doubting his claims: Lin You has long relied on part-time jobs and scholarships to fund his education and living expenses.”
“Now, due to his own mistakes, he’s embroiled in controversy and lost his income.”
“Instead of reflecting, he’s tasted the benefits of virality from gaining over 100,000 followers in days.”
“He then resorted to sensationalism, targeting NetDragon for clout.”
“Behind the scenes, he collaborated with a third-rate game studio to hastily produce a shoddy game.”
“After faking a video to hype it up and elevate himself to mythical status, he plans to sell the game to gullible netizens at the peak of his influence!”
“This is a classic case of exploiting black-hat internet tactics! His video, likely aided by unknown parties, features exceptionally polished special effects that border on photorealism.”
“But to think netizens are fools? He sorely underestimates their intelligence! As someone who worked his way through college, seeing him fall to such depths is heartbreaking. We sincerely hope he wakes up and turns back from this path!”
The sheer audacity of this spin—omitting key facts and twisting the narrative—left Lin You utterly speechless. The most absurd part? The logic actually held up! That’s insane! Wait, could people actually believe this? If this weren’t about me, I might’ve bought it myself! No wonder this shady outlet has survived so long.
He knew all too well that the average internet user wasn’t particularly discerning. With his name now a traffic magnet, this contrarian take naturally drew massive attention—and likely fooled many.
But when he opened the comments, he was surprised to find them completely overrun by gamers.
At least one thing they said was true: “To think netizens are fools? He sorely underestimates their intelligence!”
Say what you will, but when gamers are desperate for a new release, their wit and resourcefulness multiply sevenfold—especially when someone tries to block them from playing.
“LOL, so you’re the one stirring the pot? Check your track record—how many of your past articles were even true?”
“I was on the fence, but seeing Sanwen Media call it fake? Now I can relax and wait for the game. Thanks!”
“Ah, the famed Xiajing Pay-for-Play Media. Such professional spin. Truly masterful.”
“If you ignore all the facts, sure, he’s not wrong.”
Amid the flood of sarcasm and insults, Sanwen Media’s carefully crafted hit piece failed to sway a single soul.
Gamers, as a whole, rarely go on the offensive online—unless they’re battling devs. Most random drama doesn’t faze them.
But now? They were too hyped. The revolutionary gaming experience Lin You showcased had them spellbound, itching to try it immediately.
Anyone standing in their way was now their sworn enemy.
In fact, some were already heading to Lin You’s address—leaked online—in droves.
They weren’t sure what they’d do upon arrival, but they couldn’t resist going.
Meanwhile, Zhang Heying sat in his office, prepping for an emergency executive meeting.
This wasn’t just about NetDragon’s PR nightmare. Something far graver loomed: Could Lin You’s tech dethrone NetDragon as the industry leader? This was no longer just PR—it demanded a full executive response.
Zhang Heying’s strategy had shifted. Initially, he’d opted for brute force: “Who dares challenge NetDragon? Silence him!”
But now?
Money. Cars. Real estate. Whatever it took to appease Lin You, secure the tech, or at least a partnership. Failing that? Licensing. At all costs. This was his last-ditch effort to save his job before the axe fell.
If things worsened and NetDragon suffered major losses, he’d be packing his desk.
His phone vibrated. Glancing at the caller ID, he answered. “Yeah?”
“Lao Zhang, it’s not working. We sent our best writers, but the backlash is overwhelming. No one’s buying it—just insults. I’m throwing in the towel.”
The Sanwen Media boss groaned, admitting defeat.
“Fine. Drop it. I’ve got a meeting.”
It’d been a long shot anyway—just to buy time. No harm done.
After this, Sanwen Media was as good as dead. Might as well wring some last use out of it.
Serves their idiot boss right.
The real battle was the meeting. He had to convince the executives to pivot—fast.
Failure would be catastrophic.
Zhang Heying was certain: Right now, competitors were already en route to Lin You’s doorstep.
NetDragon, already at odds with Lin You, was falling behind.
One misstep, and their throne could crumble.
The weight on his shoulders grew heavier.
For some reason, unease gnawed at him. Something told him nothing would go smoothly from here.
(End of Chapter)