Ye Shaoyang went to the study, booted up his computer, and imported the contract to examine it carefully.

Reading contracts was hardly a difficult task for him. In his past life, as the captain of Team GD, he had personally inspected everything from player contracts to streaming platform agreements from beginning to end. After all, some teams would screw over their players, and streaming platforms screwing over streamers was an even more common occurrence; he wasn’t so naive or easily fooled.

To negotiate with them, he first had to understand his own bargaining chips.

If his performance was terrible, he obviously wouldn’t have the leverage to negotiate conditions.

Ye Shaoyang searched online for information related to streaming.

In this world, the major live streaming platforms consisted of three giants: Whale Platform, Douding Streaming, and Little Bear TV. That made things easier—even if negotiations with Whale Platform broke down, he still had other options and wouldn’t end up completely banned.

Perhaps people in this ABO world were generally wealthier? The viewers watching streams were extremely generous with purchasing channel memberships and sending gifts. For top-tier streamers, the number of fixed membership card subscribers in their channels often exceeded 5 million, with monthly gift revenues reaching several million as well.

The income of top streamers was even higher than that of celebrities.

No wonder Brother Yu chose to take the “hate-follow” route, relying on flaming professional players to attract traffic.

Ye Shaoyang recalled that back in his previous world, when a certain star LOL streamer jumped ship to a live streaming platform, the signing fee shattered 100 million, sending shockwaves through the streamer circle. The net worth of other top-tier streamers was also in the tens of millions per year.

The earnings of top-tier streamers in this ABO world were almost certainly higher than those in his previous world.

Ye Shaoyang opened his backend analytics—today, he had gained over 100,000 new membership card subscribers. About 90% of these subscribers were likely anti-fans coming over from Brother Yu’s side, spending 1 yuan on a membership card purely to support him slapping Brother Yu in the face. A large portion of the gifts received in the backend were sent for his cat, bringing today’s total revenue to around 150,000 yuan.

Compared to top-tier streamers with millions of membership card subscribers and millions in gifts per stream, his current performance couldn’t compete.

However, among newcomer streamers, a result like this… was practically a game-changer, right?!

The fact that Whale Platform’s duty manager called him in the middle of the night proved that he was a newcomer with immense potential. They were eager to sign him precisely because they were afraid he might be poached by another platform.

Looking back at the contract, it was frankly riddled with traps.

The gift revenue split was set at 40/60, with him receiving 40%. The membership card fees were claimed as platform operational costs, meaning he wouldn’t get a single cent. As for a signing fee, it wasn’t even mentioned—it was essentially a complete attempt to get something for nothing.

Tricking a fresh newbie might work. Tricking him? Wishful thinking.

The streaming hour requirement, on the other hand, was quite demanding: 240 hours per month, averaging 8 hours a day. The contract term was 3 years, during which he was forbidden from registering accounts or streaming on any other live streaming platform; otherwise, he would face a penalty equal to 5 times his total income.

Naturally, the platform also included a few promises, such as front-page recommendations, personalized streamer branding packages, and dedicated manager representation—all of which were just pretty-sounding words on the surface; if you took them seriously, you’ve already lost.

Ye Shaoyang sent a message to Ms. Zhang: “Sorry, I can’t accept these contract terms.”

Zhang Qi replied: “This is our platform’s standardized signing template for new gaming streamers; it’s the exact same for all newcomers. In the future, once you achieve strong results, we can renegotiate the terms.”

Ye Shaoyang smiled and replied: “Let’s negotiate now. By the time I achieve results, it’ll be too late to negotiate.”

Zhang Qi turned around to consult her manager.

Chen Feiyun said: “Let’s see what he has to say first.”

Zhang Qi: “Alright, then which specific parts are you unsatisfied with?”

Ye Shaoyang quickly typed out three modification requests—

“First: Since there is no signing fee, the membership card fees will be split 50/50, and the gift revenue split will be 60/40, with me taking 60%.”

“Second: I will only sign for one year, and the required streaming hours will be changed from 240 hours per month to 180 hours.”

“Third: Add a supplementary clause—if the streamer becomes a certified esports professional player for Gods’ War during the contract period, the platform must cooperate with the streamer’s club to terminate the contract, and the streamer will not be required to pay any liquidated damages.”

Chen Feiyun and Zhang Qi looked at each other in sheer shock.

Isn’t this newcomer a bit too arrogant?

They had encountered so many streamers, but most of them happily signed the moment they heard it was the “standardized newcomer contract template.” This was the very first time they ran into such a difficult newcomer to deal with.

Chen Feiyun frowned: “He speaks with such a big tone. Could he be a top-tier expert jumping ship from another platform?”

Zhang Qi scratched her head in confusion: “Xiao Bai? I haven’t heard of this streamer on any other platforms.”

Chen Feiyun fell silent for a moment, took her colleague’s phone, and quickly typed a response: “A three-year contract period is the company’s standard policy for new streamers and cannot be changed casually; special cases require higher-level approval. How about we raise your gift revenue split to 50/50? Even exceptionally outstanding streamers on our platform get a 50/50 split.”

Ye Shaoyang: “I want 60%. I have the confidence to become a top-tier streamer.”

Ye Shaoyang: “You can observe for a few more days and check my streaming performance before making a decision.”

Chen Feiyun and Zhang Qi looked at each other, utterly bewildered.

A 60/40 revenue split was a treatment reserved exclusively for the platform’s absolute top-ranking figures—how did he dare ask for that?!

Ye Shaoyang: “I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight ^_^”

And then, he actually went to sleep.

He left the two women from the management department standing bewildered in the wind.

After a long silence, Chen Feiyun looked over his three typed messages once more, fixing her eyes on the final clause: “An esports player? Why did he add this supplementary clause?”

Zhang Qi realized it as well: “An average streamer wouldn’t even consider whether a team contract conflicts with their own streaming contract. Could it be that his goal isn’t to be a streamer, but to become a professional player?”

Chen Feiyun stroked her chin, studying the three proposed modifications again, and said: “He likely wants to become a professional player. If he signs a streaming contract now and can’t smoothly terminate it when joining a team, it would cause a lot of trouble. Teams sign unified platform contracts, and the team he joins might not necessarily sign with our platform.”

This person was planning way too far ahead, wasn’t he?

Competition among the three domestic live streaming platforms was fierce. The pro league’s ultra-popular professional players usually signed unified contracts alongside their teams. To compete for prestigious, powerhouse teams, all three platforms offered lavish contract terms.

Because these star players didn’t need the platform to promote them or drive traffic; on the contrary, they brought their own massive fanbases to the platform, generating immense traffic for it—the celebrity effect was staggering.

Whenever a top-tier pro league player went live, tens of millions of fans and haters alike would flood in from Weibo. Stream gifts would literally blow up the chat room, to the point where the platform had to urgently add dedicated server bandwidth to keep the stream from crashing.

Zhang Qi suddenly understood: “If his goal is to become a pro player, adding a contract termination clause is actually quite reasonable. Otherwise, if he gets bound to our platform while his teammates are on a different platform, things will get sticky.”

The two of them exchanged silent glances, temporarily at a loss for what to do.

In all their years in the streaming industry, this was the first time they had seen a newcomer brimming with such overwhelming confidence—streaming with the ultimate goal of becoming a “professional player,” and opening negotiations with a lion’s demand for a 60/40 revenue split.

After thinking it over, Chen Feiyun said: “Let’s observe him for a bit first to gauge his actual skill. Also, tell the talent scouts the company sent to various streaming platforms to keep a close eye on Streamer Xiao Bai, so we don’t lose him to a rival site.”

Zhang Qi nodded: “Understood. I’ll forward his profile into the group chat right away!”

At that moment, a group chat named 【Gods’ War Super-Gods】 was abuzz with activity.

This group consisted of only around 100 members, all of whom were team captains and star players from top esports organizations. It was primarily used to arrange scrims between teams or form pro stacks for ranked play, with extremely strict membership verification.

As night fell, the night owls among the pro esports players in the group emerged en masse, forming various high-ranked stacks one after another.

Just as a group of star players was queuing up and looking for teammates, a message suddenly popped up—

[Reporter Zhao]: Holy crap crap crap! I was just watching a stream, and Brother Yu got put in his place by a new streamer!!

Reporter Zhao’s full name was Zhao Xin’an, with the in-game ID Xiao Zhao. He was the top laner for Team Beimu.

He also held another title—the Pro League’s #1 Trash-Talker.

He had once gotten into a heated argument with a reporter during a post-match interview, earning himself a yellow card warning from the league. Not long ago, while streaming, he got into a flaming match with anti-fans, resulting in his stream channel being banned for an entire month.

This Alpha possessed a fiery temper and had offended plenty of people due to his filterless mouth. However, his professional skill was exceptionally strong; among all current top laners in the league, he ranked first in total kills, boasting an aggressively violent playstyle.

[Zhouzhou]: Brother Yu?

[Zhouzhou]: That big streamer whose motto is ‘If we win, I’m a god; if we lose, my teammates are trash’? [Smile.jpg]

[Reporter Zhao]: Captain Zhou’s summary is spot-on!

[Reporter Zhao]: That’s the guy. Last season during the World Championship stream, he flamed our Chinese region pro players, saying we only knew how to act tough domestically and turned into a bunch of cowards on the world stage, claiming he’d do better himself.

[Reporter Zhao]: That dumbass—I’ve been itching to see him get put in his place for a long time.

Seeing Reporter Zhao’s gossip message, many pro players recalled their experiences from the previous year.

During the S8 season, two teams from the Chinese region made it into the World Championship, but neither managed to secure a trophy. Just as everyone was feeling down, Streamer Brother Yu rubbed salt on their wounds, declaring, “Chinese region pro players are only good at acting tough domestically. In regular matches, each one acts like a god, but on the world stage, they turn into cowards. They’d be better off letting me play instead.”

The esports community already had plenty of anti-fans who resented the players for failing to win a World Championship. Brother Yu used this infamous quote to attract a massive wave of anti-fans.

To chase clout, this guy resorted to any means necessary, turning his stream channel into an endless toxic flame war every single day. Bound by the regulations of the professional league, none of the pro players could publicly flame him back, but off the record, everyone had indeed been disgusted by him for a long time.

Therefore, upon seeing Zhao Xin’an’s gossip update, quite a few star players couldn’t help but speak up—

[I’m Very Square]: Although Brother Yu has a foul mouth, his mechanics are alright. How did he get taught a lesson by a new streamer?

[I’m Very Round]: Exactly! Don’t tell half a story and leave everyone hanging!

[Reporter Zhao]: I’ll tell you guys right now!

[Reporter Zhao]: I originally wanted to check out the new hero. Brother Yu was streaming an [Abyssal Lord] tutorial, so I clicked into his stream and happened to watch the entire game unfold!

[Reporter Zhao]: That dumbass claimed he was going to grind for a national ranking, only to run into another new streamer who was also playing [Abyssal Lord] to grind national rank. The enemy side lock-picked [Abyssal Lord] in the first pick slot, so Brother Yu pulled out his signature hero, [Illusionist], boasting that he’d crush the opponent. In the end, he didn’t score a single kill on the guy the entire game and even got wiped out in a counter-attack team fight!

[Reporter Zhao]: His face was slapped completely raw, Hahaha!

[I’m Very Square]: Abyssal Lord?

[I’m Very Square]: Speaking of which, has anyone tested out this new hero yet?

[Zhouzhou]: We’re looking into it, but we’ve been too busy lately to fully master it.

[I’m Very Square]: Captain Zhou isn’t planning to grind for a national ranking?

[Zhouzhou]: Aren’t I preparing to play the playoffs against you guys? I don’t have the time [Smile.jpg]

[Reporter Zhao]: ????

[Reporter Zhao]: Aren’t you guys curious about who the new streamer who smashed him is?

[Zhouzhou]: Streamers smashing other streamers happens all the time. Why are you getting so hyped up?

[Reporter Zhao]: This new streamer is anything but ordinary!

[Reporter Zhao]: Out of curiosity, I dual-opened his stream to watch at the time. At the start, his team was at a massive disadvantage—a total lost cause. Yet, he shotcalled his teammates to manage the wave clear across all three lanes, stalled until the late game, wiped out the enemy team in one fight, and staged a comeback victory.

[Reporter Zhao]: His mechanics on Abyssal Lord are top-tier, and he’s already secured a Provincial Badge.

[I’m Very Square]: A Provincial Badge? The new hero has only been out for two days, how is he so fast?

[Zhouzhou]: He must have built up his hero power on a win streak, right?

[Reporter Zhao]: Bingo! He played 40 matches on Abyssal Lord, and he still maintains a 100% win rate.

[Shuoyue]: Which province?

[Reporter Zhao]: Ranked #1 in Mingzhou Province, hero power 7,300.

[Shuoyue]: Is there a VOD recording?

[Reporter Zhao]: Of course! I’m a professional reporter after all!

— Group member [Reporter Zhao] shared a video file.

At first, everyone assumed this was just casual gossip; streamers beating other streamers was common, and they weren’t particularly interested in streamer drama. They all disliked Brother Yu, so hearing about him getting humiliated was just a bit of light entertainment.

However, reading on…

A 100% win rate, ranked #1 Abyssal Lord in Mingzhou Province?

Now that was worth paying attention to!

Pro players from various major teams downloaded the shared video file sent by Reporter Zhao one after another.

At the Team Tianhuan Base.

Chi Shuo opened the downloaded video. The interface opened to the familiar Whale Platform streaming room.

Then, he saw an adorable white cat sitting on the sofa, intently playing with a yarn ball.

Chi Shuo: “???”