112: Chapter 111 Recognition

The lively atmosphere continued.

Yet, in that same livestream room, within the same comment feed, a discussion among a different group of people was interspersed.

"Number 2317, Siren Bloodline, Silver Grade."

"Do you think it's possible that this person is the Fate Master?"

"I'll bet five karma points that he is."

"Reasoning?"

"Think about it, if the Fate Master really infiltrated the Top 1000 Tournament, he would definitely disguise himself. The more inconspicuous the talent, the better it serves as cover. The Siren Bloodline sounds quite ordinary, and it's precisely this 'ordinariness' that is most suspicious."

"That actually sounds plausible."

"Plus, his merit ranking is over two thousand—neither too high nor too low, the perfect middle ground. Too high and he'd be eye-catching; too low and he wouldn't get in. This ranking is exactly the sweet spot for 'I want to sneak in but don't want to be noticed.'"

"Is it possible you're overthinking it?"

"Is it possible you're underthinking it? The Fate Master possesses twenty-nine billion merit points; wouldn't it be a piece of cake for such a terrifying existence to join the Top 1000 Tournament? If he wanted to hide his identity, do you think there's any rank he couldn't pull off?"

"Bets are open! Betting on whether Number 2317 is the Fate Master! One to three odds!"

"I'll bet ten karma points that he is!"

"I'll bet twenty that he isn't!"

The discussion was heated, with all sorts of analysis posts emerging one after another.

Was Number 2317, Yang Hang—with the Siren Bloodline—the Fate Master? All the speculations, bets, and analyses pointed directly to this person.

The same livestream room. The same group of viewers. The same name.

One group of people was frantically guessing whether Yang Hang, number 2317, was the Fate Master, while another group was watching Yang Hang, number 3349, walk past the camera holding his sister's arm, discussing only how pretty Yang Yue was, what President Lu Xingye was wearing today, and how close the siblings were.

Clearly, not long ago, when the Revival Society announced the selected list, these two had caused quite a stir and discussion, yet at this moment, only one of them was being talked about, as if the other didn't exist.

No one thought there was anything wrong with this.

No one noticed that a person named Yang Hang was right there in the livestream, appearing in real-time with 1.3 billion people watching, yet they couldn't even be bothered to discuss his name.

Meanwhile, the other person named Yang Hang hadn't even appeared yet, and the comment section had already exploded with hundreds of replies.

At the same time, Zheng Yuanshan stood on the stage, silent for five seconds.

The gazes of a thousand people converged upon him. The number of online viewers in the bottom right corner of the Fate Platform livestream window continued to climb.

He held no script.

"Everyone."

His voice was not loud, but a Silver Grade loudspeaker clearly delivered every word into the ears of everyone present.

The speaker was shaped like a bright silver vintage bugle; it was unknown which survivor had opened it from a sunken sea treasure chest, but it had been purchased by the Revival Society at a high price and was currently being held by a staff member half a meter to Zheng Yuanshan's side.

"Fourteen days ago, we were thrown into this sea. No choices, no preparations, no goodbyes."

"Fourteen days. Over ten million Yanhuang Civilization compatriots remained in this sea forever."

The platform went quiet. Some lowered their heads. Some clenched their fists.

Zheng Yuanshan's gaze slowly swept across the crowd below, his eagle-like eyes beneath thick brows avoiding no one's face.

"Some of them died in the panic of the first night, some died to the sharp teeth of sea beasts, some died in storms, and some died of hunger and thirst. In the first beast tide, we lost over five million people. In the second beast tide, another seven million plus."

"I remember every single number. In the archives of the Revival Society, there is the name of every one of them."

He paused for a beat.

"But we still have 1.35 billion people fighting on the Magic Sea."

His tone did not rise, and his speed did not quicken. He was just an elderly man in his sixties standing there, laying out the facts sentence by sentence.

"To live is to have hope. With the Cause and Effect Fate Platform, the magic sea compass, and everything the Fate Master has built for us—we are not only surviving, but living better and better."

Scattered applause erupted from below, quickly spreading into a wave.

Zheng Yuanshan raised his hand to quiet them.

"I summoned you all here today not to sing praises, nor to mourn the past. It is because in three days, the first round of the 5v5 format for the Faction Sequence Battle will officially begin."

"This war concerns the position of our Yanhuang Civilization in this Magic Sea. It concerns the future of our 1.4 billion plus people. It concerns—"

He paused.

"—whether the sacrifices of those ten million plus compatriots who have already left us were worth it."

The entire venue fell silent. The comment section of the Fate Platform livestream also went quiet for a full three seconds. Then, countless bullet comments flooded in at once.

"It's worth it." "It must be worth it." "General Zheng is right." "For them, we must win."

Yang Hang stood in the middle-back section of the crowd, watching this scene with a calm expression.

His Divided Soul was meticulously scanning the defensive layout within a radius of several dozen miles around the entire Revival Society camp.

Although he had inspected it before coming, he hadn't been as thorough as he was this time.

The distribution of sentry posts, patrol routes, material storage, fleet formations, and traces of emergency plans. Everything was in perfect order.

The "official" that had always been in quotation marks in his mind had those quotation marks quietly erased at this moment.

Yang Yue stood on his left, and President Lu Xingye was to Yang Yue's right. The three of them were squeezed together, surrounded by unfamiliar faces.

After Zheng Yuanshan's opening remarks ended, the topic turned to the official agenda.

"I know you are all impatient," Zheng Yuanshan's tone flattened a bit. "What exactly is this meeting today for? Is it to help you form teams? To assign you tactical instructors? Or to distribute benefits?"

Scattered laughter came from below.

Beside Yang Hang, Yang Yue leaned in, her voice very low: "Brother, do you think they will help us form teams?"

President Lu Xingye was on the other side, her eyes bright, hands clasped in front of her chest, looking like a diligent student listening to a lecture.

"They probably will," Yang Hang replied.

"Then what if they put you and me in different teams?" Yang Yue's voice carried a bit of urgency.

"Then you'll have to rely on yourself."

"Brother!"

"Shh—listen."

President Lu Xingye tilted her head to look at the siblings, then suddenly whispered as if in realization: "So the Revival Society isn't just helping to form teams, maybe they'll even assign a dedicated tactical instructor to each team? How thoughtful!"

Yang Yue's attention was not on this at all; she tugged on Yang Hang's sleeve: "Can you use the Little Luck Technique to ensure we get put in the same group?"

President Lu Xingye's eyes lit up instantly, and she turned to Yang Hang: "Brother Yang! Your Little Luck Technique can do things like this?"

Yang Hang looked at the two pairs of expectant eyes, gave a wink in cooperation, made an OK gesture, and nodded.

The eyes of both of them almost simultaneously lit up.

Then Yang Hang spread his hands and revealed a helpless smile.

"I'll only try, I can't guarantee it."

Yang Yue and President Lu Xingye both wilted simultaneously.

"Yang Hang, you're a devil," Yang Yue said in a muffled voice.

"Brother Yang, you're going a bit too far," President Lu Xingye covered her mouth and laughed gently.