Chapter 444 Is this what you call serious?

Countless people were racking their brains for all sorts of creative ideas, then tapping their keyboards to turn them into words and send them onto the public screen.

For a moment.

The bullet chat in the live stream rolled as fast as a waterfall, to the point where it was difficult for the naked eye to capture a single message.

All kinds of wild and imaginative ideas spread across the screen in layers.

"Main Streamer, since your tech is so awesome, why not make a Bamboo Dragonfly that can fly in the sky without batteries!"

A bullet chat with special color effects caught many people's attention.

The Netizen who sent this message even provided a detailed concept.

It said that as long as it was stuck on top of one's head, it could rely on human bioelectricity or an anti-gravity array to let a person fly directly into the sky several hundred meters high, perfectly solving the problem of traffic jams during morning and evening peaks.

As soon as this proposal came out, it immediately drew a group of supporters.

Right after.

Another Netizen, who seemed to be a sci-fi movie enthusiast, also threw out his own heavyweight suggestion.

"What's the point of a Bamboo Dragonfly? That's too childish! Little Factory Director Li, you should just build a portable Lightsaber that can fire lasers and cut through steel plates as a self-defense tool!"

In this Netizen's description.

This Lightsaber would normally be only the size of a flashlight, hanging on a keychain as a decoration.

Once danger was encountered.

Pressing a button would spit out a three-foot-long high-temperature plasma blade, capable of slicing through even a security door like cutting tofu.

If used for self-defense by girls getting off work at night, it would definitely sell out in the market.

Even more so.

A mecha fan shouted loudly on the public screen.

"What's a Lightsaber! Main Streamer, if you're a real man, build a Nano-block Battle Blade that can change shape at will!"

This person proposed an ultimate weapon that fused the concepts of Nanobot Swarms and Liquid Metal.

Usually, it would be a puddle of metal sludge that could be kept in a bottle.

When needed, it could be controlled through a Brain-computer Interface to instantly reorganize into a broadsword, a spear, or even a shield capable of blocking bullets.

...

Looking at these ridiculous ideas constantly flashing on the public screen.

Li Jiajun, sitting in his office.

The corners of his eyes twitched uncontrollably a few times.

His originally expectant mood was like being thrown into a high-speed shredder, ground into tiny pieces.

'What on earth is all this?'

Li Jiajun was speechless for a while.

He realized he had still overestimated this batch of Netizens.

The directions they thought of were completely unreliable.

...

Facing this group of Viewers whose imaginations had broken through the sky.

Li Jiajun's brow furrowed tightly, forming a deep ' river' shape.

He took a deep breath and exhaled the trace of helplessness in his chest.

He raised his hand.

Extending his index and middle fingers, he tapped several times on the solid wood desk.

The 'da-da-da' tapping sound interrupted the almost fanatical sci-fi discussion atmosphere in the live stream.

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Li Jiajun waved his hand at the camera, his expression written with disapproval.

"Everyone, calm down for a moment."

He adjusted his sitting posture, leaning back slightly.

Then he said.

"Spamming the chat like this is too chaotic; I can't even keep up. Besides, your train of thought has veered completely off track."

"How about this."

"Let's change the method and connect for a call with a Netizen."

As soon as these words were spoken, the bullet chat in the live stream slowed down a bit, as everyone waited for his next words.

After all, being able to have a one-on-one video call with Little Factory Director Li was a privilege that didn't come around often.

Although many people teased Li Jiajun in the live stream, in reality, Li Jiajun was already considered an idol to them. Being able to talk to their idol made them very excited.

Many people were already rubbing their hands in secret, preparing to snatch that 'apply for call' button.

However.

The condition Li Jiajun threw out next was like a bucket of cold water.

"But I have one requirement."

His face turned serious, and his gaze became very stern.

"You can suggest ideas, but they must be serious ideas."

"Whoever has a serious idea, go ahead and apply for the call."

When saying these words.

To emphasize his determination to make a legal, compliant, and down-to-earth civilian toy.

He specifically emphasized the word "serious."

His pronunciation was so clear and forceful that it was as if he wanted to use a megaphone to play it on loop in the live stream.

...

Only.

This restrictive condition he proposed to filter out reliable ideas.

Produced a completely opposite chemical reaction in the ears of the hundreds of thousands of Viewers in the live stream.

As soon as this requirement was raised.

The audience on the other end of the internet was immediately displeased.

In everyone's eyes, these imaginative self-defense weapons and transportation tools they had racked their brains to come up with.

Not only had a perfect score in practicality, but they also fit Little Factory Director Li's consistent 'hardcore' manufacturing style.

On what grounds were they being labeled as 'not serious'?

And.

Even if we take ten thousand steps back.

You, a 'Militia General' who peddles Exoskeletons, Tracked Armored Vehicles, and Thermobaric Bombs as Firefighting Equipment in your live stream.

The toy factory director best at 'stirring up trouble' on the entire internet.

Now you're actually turning the tables and complaining that the vast number of Viewers aren't serious enough?

This is like a master thief accusing a passerby of spitting on the ground.

This extreme sense of imbalance and offended self-esteem made the Viewers instantly lose their composure.

Then.

After a brief silence came an even more violent backlash.

The Netizens in the live stream all sent bullet chats one after another, beginning a large-scale condemnation and accusation of Li Jiajun.

"You bastard, are you saying the ideas we came up with aren't serious?"

A colored bullet chat with an angry expression was the first to flash across the screen.

Immediately after, the main force quickly assembled.

"Main Streamer, you've broken my heart. Who talks like that? (Pout) The kind that can't be made better no matter how you coax me."

"Is the idea I just thought of not serious enough?"

"The idea I thought of is serious enough! Do you think everyone is as improper as you?"

...

For a time.

The screen was full of text condemning Li Jiajun.

What was originally intended to be a R&D seminar to brainstorm ideas had completely turned into a criticism session of Little Factory Director Li's personal conduct.

Looking at the words rolling endlessly on the screen, full of protests and complaints.

Li Jiajun sat in his boss chair.

Faced with this situation, he was practically an old hand at dealing with it.

He decisively activated his defense mechanism.

He simply ignored the complaints of these Netizens.

Treating them entirely like a flock of ducks quacking in his ear.

He slowly reached out and picked up the water cup on the desk.

He blew at the tea leaf foam floating on the water's surface.

Then he tilted his neck back and took a comfortable, large gulp.

The warm tea slid down his throat, soothing his dry throat from talking too much just now.

Setting down the water cup.

He locked his gaze on the control panel in the background of his phone screen.

In that independent window specifically used to receive video call requests from the audience.

Li Jiajun stared expectantly, waiting for that 'brilliant idea' that could save the toy factory's production line to appear.

...

However.

Time passed minute by minute.

The wall clock in the office made a monotonous 'tick-tock' sound.

One minute passed.

The background list showed no movement.

Three minutes passed.

The red dot representing a new application still hadn't appeared.

Five minutes...

Ten minutes...

Li Jiajun just sat there, waiting and waiting.

From time to time, his finger would refresh the screen, fearing that a network delay had caused him to miss an application.

But.

After waiting for more than ten minutes.

The call application list in the background remained completely empty.

Not even a single extra letter popped up.

In the massive live stream, the number of online Viewers stayed steadily at the high point of over a hundred thousand.

But facing this invitation to connect, not a single person dared to press that application button.

This made things very awkward.

In fact, although the Viewers were shouting loudly in the chat, insisting their ideas were serious.

Everyone knew the truth in their hearts.

Those wild ideas they got from watching too many sci-fi movies were fine for bragging behind a keyboard.

But to actually have them explain how to build a Lightsaber or an anti-gravity Bamboo Dragonfly to a real-life toy factory director via video call in front of over a hundred thousand people.

No one had the courage to lose face like that.

Not to mention, the person sitting on the other side was a tough guy who invented Firefighting Equipment and Thermobaric Bombs.

If a parameter they casually blurted out was actually taken seriously and built by the other party, and then caused some uncontrollable consequences.

That wouldn't be as simple as losing face; they might have to bear joint responsibility.

Out of this complex and survival-instinct-filled psychology.

Hundreds of thousands of people maintained a high level of tacit understanding.

They only typed; they didn't call.

...

Looking at the background that still had no movement.

Li Jiajun's originally expectant gaze gradually turned into speechlessness.

What's wrong with these guys?

Weren't they quite talkative in the chat just now?

Weren't they all claiming that what they thought of were the most serious and practical good ideas?

How come when given a chance to step into the spotlight, they all turned into shrinking turtles?

He stared at the screen.

The corner of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Then he started complaining:

"You say you are all serious people, and your ideas are all serious."

He shook his head, his tone carrying a deep sense of helplessness and the weariness of someone who had seen through it all.

"Then why is it that once I said it must be a serious idea to connect, no one is calling?"

...

This question could be said to strike directly at the soul.

Without any embellishment, without any tactful lead-in.

It just smashed straight through the network signal into the ears of every online Viewer.

The lethality of this sentence was simply too great.

It directly tore away the Viewers' last shred of dignity, stripping their guilty nature completely bare.

After this sentence was said.

Then.

The entire live stream seemed as if someone had suddenly pulled the power plug.

It fell into a deathly silence.

This awkwardness was so intense that even across the screen, it could make one curl their toes and dig out a three-bedroom apartment on the floor.

The number of bullet chats even became briefly sparse.

Only an occasional emoji of a red-faced monkey floating by proved that the live stream hadn't frozen.