9: Chapter 9 The Biggest Beneficiary

Yang Hang glanced at the numbers, his emotions barely shifting. Before he had gone to sleep yesterday, the count had already surpassed 1.2 billion. The remaining 200 million or so were either elderly people and children still in a deep slumber, stubborn holdouts refusing to accept the invitation, or the deceased.

He clicked directly on the hot post rankings.

The top spot was still President Shen Qing's "Yanhuang Must Win," its popularity score having ballooned into an astronomical figure he couldn't even be bothered to count the digits of.

He scrolled down.

Second Place: "'Gaze Identification' Technique: Get Item Info in Three Seconds, a Must-Have for Survival at Sea!"

Third Place: "Houseboat Nighttime Protection Guide: Wave-Proofing, Seepage-Proofing, and Unknown Creature Defense (Trap Crafting Included)"

Fourth Place: "Three Methods of Desalination: Distillation, Condensation, and Simple Filtration"

Fifth Place: "Sea Fishing for Beginners: Making Simple Hooks from Rags and Fish Bones"

Sixth Place: "Being Chased by Sea Birds Pooping on You? I've Summarized Five Bird-Proofing Tricks (Edible Seaweed Identification Included)"

Seventh Place: "About How I Transmigrated Right After the Gaokao—What Happened to My Promised College Freedom?"

Yang Hang scanned through them one by one.

Except for that Gaokao post barely clinging to the list, almost everything else was solid, practical advice.

The Identification Technique post was incredibly detailed, breaking down steps as specific as how to adjust one's breathing and focus one's attention. The Houseboat protection post was even more intense, featuring structural diagrams marking which planks were thinnest and which spots were most prone to leaks. In the comments of the fishing post, someone had posted a photo of a palm-sized fish they'd actually caught using a line twisted from rags; the photo was blurry and crooked, but the way the fish flopped on the dilapidated deck was exceptionally vivid.

The competition is just too fierce.

The thought popped into Yang Hang's mind.

He had spent years soaking in the internet of his previous life and was used to all sorts of people. There were those happy to help, but naturally, there were also those who enjoyed kicking others while they were down or simply watching from the sidelines. It was a diverse existence, to say the least.

Yet, these posts before him—almost every single one was a heartfelt attempt to teach people how to survive.

Of course, he wasn't naive enough to think everyone was a selfless saint.

But at least in this moment, upon this savage Magic Sea, these posts were truly saving lives.

The internet never lacked kindness; it was just that, most of the time, the silent majority didn't like to broadcast it. Those who were helped kept it in their hearts, and those who helped others didn't think to leave their names.

Just as he was thinking this, a notification for a new post popped up at the top of the page.

Refresh!

A new post was surging up the hot list at a speed visible to the naked eye. The title was in bold:

《Wake Up! There's No Such Thing as Pure Selfless Sharing; Behind Every Top Guide Lies the 'Scheming' for Merits》

Yang Hang narrowed his eyes.

This title is a bit aggressive.

He clicked in.

The body of the post wasn't long, but every paragraph was as precise as a scalpel.

...

Have you noticed a bizarre phenomenon?

We've only been transmigrated to this godforsaken sea for half a day, and the forums are already flooded with guides. How to identify resources, how to reinforce Houseboats, how to avoid those annoying sea birds—almost anything you want to know can be found with a search.

Some say this is a continuation of the internet spirit, a testament to the inherent goodness of humanity.

I don't deny there are good people. But think rationally: in just half a day, knowledge is erupting like a volcano. Is it really just based on self-awareness?

In any era, behind any large-scale spontaneous behavior, there are invisible hands at work. In the past, it was monetizing traffic. Now, it's—the Fourth Rule.

I've already tested it. After posting a useful guide, something extra did indeed appear in my account.

This isn't some conspiracy theory; it's just a fact. With merits sitting right there, people will naturally be willing to write. Kindness and sentiment are never cheap, but what keeps them burning is often a more realistic fuel.

So, I have only one suggestion:

Whether you're doing it for merits or because you truly want to help, write. Pour out what you know and let more people see it.

The word 'compete' isn't a compliment in most contexts. But when it comes to sharing knowledge, I hope the Yanhuang Camp competes until they're tied in knots.

Three hundred and sixty-five days from now, I want to stand among the victors. I hope you do, too.

...

At the end of the post, a screenshot was attached.

Merit Points: 71,248.

Yang Hang stared at that screenshot for three seconds.

Over seventy thousand.

Simply by posting, in less than a day, over seventy thousand merits.

He remembered that he had only gained 1 camp merit point for killing that flying fish yesterday.

1 point.

Seventy thousand to one.

This comparison is damn hurtful.

He moved his gaze back to the body of the post and read it again from start to finish.

The logic was clear, the evidence solid. It didn't accuse the guide authors of having 'impure motives,' nor did it play the saint by saying 'everyone should contribute selflessly.' It simply laid out the facts and then used the momentum to call for more people to participate.

Brilliant.

Yang Hang subconsciously checked the poster's ID—Anonymous.

Anonymous?

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Playing anonymous with him on the Cause and Effect Fate Platform was like trying to hide a Wi-Fi leecher on his own router; it was an insult to the administrator's intelligence.

With a slight thought, a wisp of Power of Causality reached out, tracing the post back to the poster's karmic thread.

In less than half a second, the answer emerged.

President Shen Qing.

It was that PhD sister who was afraid of the sea.

Yang Hang was stunned for a moment.

He recalled the number one ranked post from last night. Every word was written in blood, every sentence sincere. That final phrase, "Yanhuang Must Win," had ignited the passion of hundreds of millions, himself included.

And now, the same person had switched to a different persona, using a tone so calm it was almost cold to tear down the logic behind the guide posts.

One post was emotional, the other rational.

But both pointed toward the same goal: getting more people to take action.

This woman... is quite interesting.

Once curiosity was piqued, it couldn't be suppressed. Yang Hang simply closed his eyes, activated his Karmic Talent, and delved deep along President Shen Qing's karmic thread.

The consumption this time was almost negligible. The top-ups from over a billion users had made his energy pool bottomless; peeking into one person's Karma was no different from scooping a spoonful of water from the ocean.

Images unfolded in his consciousness like a fast-forwarded documentary.

He saw a seven-year-old President Shen Qing.

The little girl was wearing a life jacket, curled up on a rubber raft, surrounded by an endless expanse of black sea. She cried heart-wrenchingly, her voice already hoarse, leaving only silent sobs. When she was rescued a day and a night later, her fingernails were all broken because she had been gripping the life raft's rope so tightly she hadn't let go for a single moment.

The fear was real.

Then he saw President Shen Qing after the Transmigration.

For the first five minutes after she woke up, her entire body was shaking, her face as white as paper. But by the sixth minute, she took three deep breaths, stood up, and began to analyze the trial rules line by line.

Her assessment of herself was cold: she couldn't overcome her fear in the short term, couldn't enter the water, couldn't catch fish, and her physical strength and combat power were nearly zero.

But she had a brain.

And so, she chose another path—using information and influence to gain merits.

First, post a call for help to unite people's hearts, then post a reveal to drive sharing. No fabrications, no deception; all emotional expressions were built upon real experiences, and all rational analyses could withstand verification.

Yang Hang withdrew his Power of Causality and opened his eyes.

The thatch on the Houseboat's ceiling swayed gently in the morning breeze.

"The fear of the sea is real, and the rationality is real too," he muttered to himself. "This sister's brain works faster than mine."

Pausing, he added, "Though, it's also true she's raking in the merits."

It wasn't meant as a slight.

In this world, someone who could combine self-interest and altruism so seamlessly deserved respect.

Yang Hang re-entered the Fate Platform, and a whimsical thought occurred to him.

She plans to keep posting; how high can her total merits grow?

This sort of thing originally had nothing to do with him, but he couldn't resist the itch.

The Power of Causality reached out again, not to peek into the past this time, but to deduce forward along President Shen Qing's karmic thread.

The future images were blurry, but the general outline was clear—

President Shen Qing would eventually publish a systematized "Rational Guide to Survival on a Sea Houseboat," comprehensively organizing it from four dimensions: water, food, safety, and psychological construction. Combined with the continued traction of her previous two posts...

Total Merits: Million-level.

Yang Hang was silent for two seconds.

Two posts plus one guide, a million merits.

He kills one fish, one point.

A million to one.

Before, when it was seventy thousand to one, he felt it was hurtful. Now, it was a million to one—wasn't this just a straight stab to the heart?

"Fine, there's no comparing people."

He said this, yet his hand as if possessed opened his own information panel.

[Name: Yang Hang]

[Age: 24]

[Survival Days: 1]

[Camp: Yanhuang Civilization]

[Talent: Lord of Causality (Unique)]

[Merit Points: ——]

His gaze fell on the last line.

The numbers jumped out.

187,643,221.

One hundred eighty-seven million, six hundred forty-three thousand, two hundred twenty-one.

Yang Hang's expression froze on his face.

He stared at that string of numbers, his eyes motionless, as if his brain's CPU had suddenly crashed.

After a long while, he slowly let out a breath.

He had caught a glimpse when he was constructing the Fate Platform and knew the number wasn't small. But back then, his mind was full of how to arrange safety barriers for his family, and he hadn't had the heart to look closely.

Now that he had calmed down and looked again—

One hundred eighty million.

President Shen Qing was busting her gut to post, with a predicted future total of a million merits.

He had done nothing, and just the "service fee" cut generated by the Fate Platform's operation was one hundred eighty-seven times President Shen Qing's total.

Yang Hang slowly closed the panel and leaned against the Houseboat wall, watching the first ray of morning light shine through the crack in the door.

"Turns out I'm the biggest vested interest."

Every user top-up on the Fate Platform, every information interaction, every post released and viewed, was consuming karma points. And half of those karma points would eventually flow into his energy pool.

The more popular those guide posts were, and the longer users stayed online, the higher his earnings became.

President Shen Qing's posts pushed more people to share knowledge, knowledge helped more people survive, and those who survived continued to top up and use the Fate Platform—

She was working for him.

Everyone was working for him.

And they had no idea.

Yang Hang closed his eyes, the corner of his mouth curving upward.

"Fine, since I'm the biggest beneficiary, I can't just take the benefits without doing anything."