I Am Your Natural Enemy

Borrowing a bit of Domain trait as a filter, this thing really gives off an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

If they were people from the Scorching Sun Department, they probably wouldn’t even be able to see this kind of live stream.

Just like back then with Wang Xueqi’s Water Ghost Domain—those from the Scorching Sun Department couldn’t even get in.

The Water Ghost Domain in those days was at least fixed in place, so it made sense for Scorching Sun Department to discover it.

But this content, hidden under an ordinary live stream—that’s way harder to detect.

According to Wen Yan’s current observations, and judging by the comments, it seems like only the not human, and only those who paid, aren’t interested in normal streams, but prefer the heavy stuff—and got invited—are able to see the inside live content.

But that’s just his guess. When it comes to Domain traits, he can’t be too sure.

Because he himself has a trait: as long as a Domain unfolds and he’s within its range, he’ll definitely get caught inside.

The Domain trait when this stream room starts its inside live content—no matter what rules it contains—since it requires an audience, it can’t be all that strict, so this filter rule is basically useless on him.

Wen Yan looked at the other viewers all sending gifts—he didn’t really care, just sent a few himself.

At least so far, all this funding hasn’t been totally wasted; he’s actually dug up something.

Watching the rapid-fire comments fly by, sometimes just by what people say, you can obviously tell they’re Different Races.

This shocked Wen Yan a little, but on second thought, it sort of made sense.

Modern society’s conveniences aren’t just making life easier for people; lots of Different Races who play by the rules want to live in the city too—because once you’re used to luxury, it’s hard to go back.

They’ve gotten used to smart bidets—take a shit and get washed and dried, automatic flush and all.

Then you tell them to go back to a cave, and every time they need to go, they gotta trek far away, then bury it, and come winter, they freeze their asses off.

Forget people—even these Different Races can’t stand that.

Creatures with Spiritual Intelligence—put nicely, it’s ”pursuing a better life”; to be blunt, sleeping on a memory foam mattress in an air-conditioned room is just way more comfortable than lying on a damp hay pile in a cave.

No matter what Different Race it is, as long as you’ve got money, whatever comfy environment you want, you can make it happen.

Even penguins from the South Pole can live cozy as hell in Nanwu County, where it never freezes at all.

Given all that, it’s no surprise some Different Races enjoy watching streams, just not the content humans watch. Where there’s demand, someone’s gonna supply, so people stream the stuff Different Races like.

By the look of it, these Different Races already have their own underground ecology going on.

After the stream ended, Wen Yan searched for that BBQ place; sure enough, it was a shop in Luoyue County. Opening the map’s street view, he could even see the sign—it looked exactly the same.

But the street view only showed what’s by the main road. Go deeper into the alleys, and there’s nothing.

Wen Yan thought back to the path the streamer walked last night, tried to find it on the map.

After walking a few minutes into that alley, there’s literally nothing marked on the map. Switching to satellite view—that spot’s just wasteland. No buildings at all.

Putting away his phone, Wen Yan figured this was pretty normal. That place was obviously not a regular BBQ joint, so it made perfect sense it was invisible.

He kept searching ”Tao” Different Races in the Scorching Sun Department’s database—didn’t find anyone who fit.

The people he saw last night—none of them have even been filed in the Scorching Sun Department’s records.

Wen Yan wasn’t surprised. Ever since he’d met Doctor Meng, he knew exactly what most Different Races thought of the Scorching Sun Department.

If you want to live in the city, you can file a record with Scorching Sun Department, get an ID, but that’s about it.

If anything comes up, nobody wants to deal with Scorching Sun Department at all.

The ones on record are already like this—there must be even more Different Races who don’t want to be filed.

Honestly, as long as this is just streaming for Different Races, it’s actually fine. Even if it skates the gray area, Scorching Sun Department probably wouldn’t crack down.

Their job’s always been to keep things stable—it doesn’t mean if something’s slightly off, they immediately go in swinging, putting the hammer down.

Even among regular people, there’s plenty of stuff that pushes the boundaries a bit. You don’t see all of it getting wiped out, do you?

What matters is whether the line gets crossed—if it’s too much, that’s different.

Wen Yan recalled the close-up he saw in that stream—a bunch of eyes, strung up together.

It made his skin crawl; for a second, he felt like he was seeing a skinny old guy, wielding a ladle with a serious curve, gouging out an eyeball by brute force.

The Creature having its eyeball dug out started as a snake-bodied beauty, then gradually shifted into all sorts of creatues, and finally became a vacant-eyed young girl.

Wen Yan closed his eyes and shuddered.

He figured it was seriously necessary to look into the missing persons.

But this might actually be really tricky to check—there’s just too many people in Central Plains County, and too many migrant workers coming and going.

In the missing persons database, there are only those with a police report. No report—no one knows anything at all.

After all, the locals can’t say for sure if someone who left just moved elsewhere or really disappeared for good.

Still, slow and steady. Now that there’s a lead and he’s confirmed this isn’t a normal live stream, he can keep digging.

So far, at least, there’s no hard evidence of anything seriously over the line—it’s all speculation. If he freaks them out too early, he’ll end up with nothing at all to investigate next time.