Conquering the Stars and My Haters’ Hearts - Chapter 3

The aggressive surge of Ferdinand’s Mental Strength slammed into Xie Anning’s mecha, causing both combatants to freeze instantly. After all, during a direct clash of wills, few pilots have the luxury of spare focus to continue maneuvering their machines.

To the spectators, Xie Anning was a dead man walking. Some viewers, moved by pity, began sending donations, thinking they might help cover the medical expenses for the poor streamer. Others, who had been irritated by him from the start, took the opportunity to gloat.

“Look at that cocky room title. He talked big and lost in the first round. Pathetic.”

“He brought this on himself. Dragging a beginner mecha against an opponent like that? It’s just natural selection at work.”

“Don’t bother with medical fees. Given who his opponent is, this streamer is probably going to end up a vegetable.”

Even Autumn Waters sighed, lamenting his teammate’s rotten luck. This level of impact would almost certainly result in permanent neurological damage.

However, far from the agonizing struggle the outsiders imagined, Xie Anning felt his own Mental Strength expand the moment the attack hit. He could easily perceive his opponent’s weaknesses—and more importantly, he felt his own power completely overshadowing Ferdinand’s.

It was a total suppression. Even though he was technically only one level higher, the gap felt like an insurmountable chasm. It was no wonder “geniuses” were so arrogant; they were born at the finish line that others spent a lifetime trying to reach.

“Such powerful Mental Strength?” Ferdinand’s expression shifted. Unlike others who might shrink back when facing a master, a flush of excitement rose to his pale, handsome face. “To think I’d encounter an opponent like this in a ranking match, incredible!”

His heart hammered against his ribs. Raised in the Empire’s “survival of the fittest” culture, Ferdinand adored the strong—but what he loved most was crushing them under his heel. Thrumming with adrenaline, he ignored the risks of overexertion and poured himself into the fight, his eyes glowing a faint, manic red as he drove his mecha forward.

The audience grew confused. The stalemate was lasting too long. Given Ferdinand’s stats, shouldn’t his opponent have been disconnected by mental trauma immediately?

Suddenly, the screen blurred with motion.

“Wait, what?” The crowd gasped as they realized both players were moving again.

“How is this possible?” Autumn Waters nearly swore again. His gaze toward Xie Anning shifted from condescension to genuine awe. “Does this guy have Mental Strength equal to Ferdinand’s?”

There was no other explanation. Someone like Ferdinand would never pull his punches against a stranger.

The rest of the audience was equally floored. In their minds, Xie Anning should have lost minutes ago, yet he was still standing. Newcomers assumed he was a pro smurfing in a starter skin, but those who had watched from the beginning felt their entire worldview being rewritten.

Xie Anning was still clumsy with his Mental Strength, which is why he hadn’t ended the fight during the initial clash. As Ferdinand attacked, Xie Anning chose not to strike back immediately. Instead, he partitioned a segment of his mind to observe and mimic Ferdinand’s every move. He was using the battle to learn—after all, his mecha piloting skills were non-existent, and he kept missing his windows of opportunity.

Under the lens of his superior perception, Xie Anning’s learning speed was terrifying. He wasn’t just copying movements; he was beginning to understand the why behind them.

Ferdinand could feel his opponent growing stronger by the second. Driven to a frenzy, he forced his mind to maintain the mental duel while simultaneously executing complex maneuvers. He was pushing past his limits; his heart raced, and his entire body began to overheat.

Xie Anning’s “radar” picked up the shift. Ferdinand’s movements were becoming erratic, bordering on chaotic.

“What’s wrong with him?” Xie Anning asked the system.

[System]: Host, the opponent is overextending his Mental Strength. He is losing control. If he doesn’t stop immediately, he will suffer a Mental Overload, likely resulting in permanent insanity.

Xie Anning went silent. It’s just a game.

He wanted to win, but not at the cost of someone’s life. He had other goals to pursue, but he realized that for some people, this “game” was everything.

Xie Anning frowned. Even if they were enemies on the field, he couldn’t watch a person lose their mind over a simulation. Without a second thought, he cut his power and stopped moving. Ferdinand’s mecha seized the opening and lunged, but the strike was clumsy, missing vital points. Both machines tangled and collapsed to the ground.

The audience began to settle. Finally, they thought, the streamer’s luck ran out. But then—

Xie Anning manually popped his cockpit hatch. Due to privacy settings, his face was a blur of pixels, but the act itself was shocking.

“What are you doing?” Autumn Waters screamed over the team channel.

“Saving him,” Xie Anning replied curtly. He ignored his teammate’s shock. Within the mecha, his Mental Strength felt muffled, like he was working through a thick membrane. He needed to be “out” to be precise.

Xie Anning projected his Mental Strength outward, piercing through the hull of Ferdinand’s machine and into the cockpit. He reached out to the other man’s frantic consciousness, guiding and soothing it. He had never been taught how to do this, yet it felt as natural as breathing—a primal instinct.

The thrashing mecha suddenly went still. Having been pulled back from the brink, Ferdinand slumped into a deep sleep. The system immediately flagged him as unconscious.

[Player ‘Call Me Daddy’ has defeated ‘Ferdinand’. Score: 1-0.]

The system announcement broke the silence of the room.

“What the hell did I just see? Am I dreaming?”

“Is this for real? ‘Call Me Daddy’ just climbed out of his seat and Ferdinand lost?!”

“They must have had a mental battle we couldn’t see. This guy is actually a monster.”

The “newbie turnaround” was so dramatic that the skeptics immediately converted into fans, showering the stream with donations.

Autumn Waters felt like he was in a trance. He watched Xie Anning climb back into his mecha. A moment later, a voice crackled over the comms: “What’s the hold-up? Don’t we have one more opponent?”

Autumn Waters and the remaining enemy were both stunned, having completely forgotten the match was still ongoing.

“Oh! Right! Yes!” Autumn Waters shouted, snapping to attention. He now looked at Xie Anning as if he were a god. To defeat Ferdinand after starting like a total amateur, he didn’t dare think about it too deeply.

The remaining opponent’s face turned pale. He thought he’d been carried to an easy win by Ferdinand, but now Ferdinand was down and he was facing a 1v2 against a freak of nature. He didn’t hesitate.

[Opponent has surrendered.]

Not everyone had the courage to stay and be slaughtered.

The match ended, and the results screen popped up. Autumn Waters immediately spammed Xie Anning with a friend request; he was determined to cling to this “Daddy’s” coattails.

While the viewers were still reeling, Xie Anning exited the game. He glanced at his dashboard and blinked in surprise. The stream had reached 30,000 viewers, and donations had exceeded 10,000 Imperial Credits—enough to sustain him for quite a while. His follower count had jumped by thousands. For a debut stream, it was legendary.

After a quick “thank you” to the donors, Xie Anning scheduled his next stream for the day after tomorrow. He avoided the flood of questions in the chat and logged off, stepping out of the internet cafe.

He had been kicked out of the school dorms, so he’d need to find a temporary place to stay. More importantly, he hadn’t eaten all day and was starving.

[System]: Popularity Goal Reached: 30,000/10,000. Task over-performed. Host may draw a random item reward. Popularity points can be used for exchange or lottery. Reward for over-performance: Voice Enhancement Potion x1.

[New Task Triggered – Advanced Beginner]: Stream on a major platform for at least 40 minutes. Goal: 100,000 Popularity Points. Reward: Random item draw and unlock Inventory Space.

Xie Anning sighed. The requirement had jumped tenfold for the second task. If this was still the “beginner” phase, things were going to get difficult.

The system had assured him it was undetectable by local technology, but Xie Anning wasn’t about to start talking to thin air in public. He suppressed his curiosity and kept the system interface closed until he could find some privacy.

Immediately after leaving the internet cafe, Xie Anning withdrew all the earnings from his recent livestream. With credits finally in his account, he felt a flicker of confidence. He hailed an AI-driven hover-taxi for the journey home.

Since these vehicles were fully automated, he didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. Settling into the backseat, Xie Anning pulled up the system interface to examine his rewards. A virtual screen flickered to life, displaying a sealed treasure chest.

“This feels exactly like opening loot boxes in an old video game,” Xie Anning mused, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I wonder if there’s a ’10-pull’ option in my future.” He reached out and tapped the icon.

The screen erupted in a brilliant burst of light, revealing a bottle of yellow liquid.

[Truth Serum v1]: Upon consumption, for a duration of 24 hours, anyone within a one-meter radius of the Host will be unable to resist speaking their inner thoughts. (Note: Since the Inventory is not yet unlocked, this item can only be held for 24 hours. Please use promptly.)

“That’s incredible,” Xie Anning whispered, stunned. This bordered on the magical. He hadn’t expected the system to provide such reality-bending tools.

Intrigued, he navigated to the lottery page, only to see that a single pull cost 100,000 Popularity Points.

Xie Anning went silent. It looks like those beginner missions are a huge bargain.

Finally, he turned his attention to the [Voice Enhancement Potion v1]. This item permanently boosted the “Charisma Stat” of the user’s voice—a reward clearly tailored for his streaming career. Without a second thought, he used it.

The hover-taxi soon reached its destination.

Xie Anning stepped out and made his way back to his temporary apartment. The conditions were bleak: a cramped space of barely fifteen square meters with sparse, dilapidated furniture. There wasn’t even a high-end holographic neural link helmet, and the only food in the fridge was a stock of basic nutritional supplements.

“This stuff is barely fit for human consumption!” Xie Anning choked down the last of a nutrient pack. Though he kept a calm exterior, his stomach was in a state of revolt.

The taste was abysmal.

In this futuristic era, delicious food certainly existed—Xie Anning’s inherited memories were full of exquisite meals, but such luxuries were reserved for the elite. Those of modest means survived on standard supplements, perhaps saving up for months just to afford a single real meal.

The original owner of this body, being nearly destitute, had opted for the cheapest possible grade. These supplements prioritized cost over flavor and could even lead to malnutrition if consumed long-term.

Xie Anning wasn’t much of a cook himself, so he had to make do. For someone who took pride in good food, this was a special kind of torture. Once I make enough money, I’m going to eat like a king, he vowed silently.

He moved to the small bathroom to tidy up his appearance. After all, he had to face school tomorrow.

Looking at the haggard, disheveled reflection in the mirror, Xie Anning picked up a pair of scissors. His hands were surprisingly steady and dexterous. Before long, he had trimmed away the overgrown, matted hair into a clean, sharp style.

As the excess hair fell away, a stunning face emerged. It was a complete transformation. If the original owner had walked into school looking like this, he likely would never have been subjected to such relentless bullying.

The face was nearly an eighty percent match to Xie Anning’s original face before his transmigration. It seemed his arrival in this world wasn’t a random fluke; there was likely a deeper connection but he was too exhausted to dwell on it.

The day’s heavy drain on his Mental Strength finally caught up with him. Xie Anning collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, immediate sleep, completely unaware of the massive storm his actions had just ignited across the virtual net.