Please don't question multi-week players

Chapter 140. The Mob
--no?
Jiang Jianxin was a little confused.

She remembered the headline the journalists sent her was "Outlaw 'Suspected' of Having Homosexual Relations."

How can the entry directly prove that he is gay?
Moreover, the journalists were very restrained in their editing; the outlaw only checked into a hotel late at night, but in the entry, he was listed as working day and night.

Although the keywords are more sensational, simply replacing a few words has already taken us far from the truth.

With the help of journalists and several well-known figures, this rumor has successfully become a kind of false truth trusted by netizens, and its popularity has soared.

Jiang Jianxin scrolled through the comments that kept appearing under the topic as the popularity soared. Most of them were insults and ridicule for this lewd behavior, as well as discussions about what exactly happened at the scene.

Few people doubted the authenticity of the news; most were blindly rushing in. For a moment, Jiang Jianxin even had an absurd illusion—as if these complete strangers were all masters of voyeurism who had witnessed the scene firsthand.

"This is public opinion..."

She murmured to herself, recalling the words spoken by some streamer who had committed suicide due to online bullying before the apocalypse—

In this era, the truth is like a counterfeit that is repeatedly passed around. With each layer of dissemination, it gains an exaggerated patina, and in the end, who can still see its original appearance?

Jiang Jianxin slowly scrolled through the comments.

The journalist sent another message to my private messaging section.

[Journalist]: Thank you for your help. Mr. Wen will be grateful.

Jiang Jianxin touched her nose. Although she knew she was helping Wen Yu, seeing the barrage of insults directed at this outlaw online, she still felt guilty and typed:

[Jiang Jianxin]: This trend in public opinion, um... I think Mr. Wen might ruin his reputation in his later years.

Wen Yu looks to be in his twenties, and at an age when he's about to retire, this huge scandal has broken out. His retirement life is probably not going to be peaceful.

[Journalist]: Haha, it's a minor issue. You always have to lose something on the road to becoming stronger.

[Journalist]: He didn't have a great reputation to begin with, so one more ink stain won't make a difference.

If there were a more respectable way to get on the trending topics, journalists would be willing to write about him, but the key issue is that he offended the TV station, and under the TV station's manipulation of public opinion, Wen Yu's reputation was already not very good.

In this situation, fabricating glorious and lofty news stories about him won't get high viewership, so it's better to just fabricate a sex scandal—anyway, once Wen Yu comes out, he'll clean up the internet himself, so it won't bother him.

Seeing what the news reporter said, Jiang Jianxin knew that the brothers probably understood each other's situation, so he didn't say anything more. He sent a "hahaha" emoji and then closed the chat window with the news reporter.

Her finger paused on the pop-up chat list, then she clicked on the Journalist's Peace Forum homepage.

This person's forum homepage background is also a dark gray sea, except that there is an anime boy sitting on a boat, lonely guarding a bright lamp.

The label says:

[Journalist, handsome man, gossip blogger with millions of followers, melancholic heartthrob, and tycoon of the entertainment industry.]

……

In a dimly lit basement in a certain city, a girl wearing loose purple Coolmilo pajamas sat cross-legged on a gaming chair, holding a bowl of freshly made braised beef noodles in her hands.

She slurped up a mouthful of noodles, the soup splashing onto the corner of her mouth, but she didn't care. She just stared at the data stream on the main display screen and suddenly laughed out loud.

"This Sword Master is quite interesting." She mumbled indistinctly, stirring the instant noodles in the cup with her chopsticks. Steam rose up, blurring her glasses.

A message popped up on the side screen from the super AI:
"what happened?"

The journalist adjusted her glasses, a sly glint in her eyes behind the lenses. She slowly typed on the keyboard, the aroma of instant noodles filling the small space.

"My profile information, starting with my gender, was fabricated in order to gain followers."

She blew on the noodles, her tone light and cheerful, as if discussing the weather. "Anyway, on the internet, who isn't a cybernetic character?"

The journalist slurped up a mouthful of noodles, sighed contentedly, and slowly added:

"As long as they think I am a man, I can gain a little faith out of thin air and classify them as a 'mob.' In the future, they will be targeted and brainwashed by public opinion, becoming my natural believers and whitewashing all my lies."

The girl smiled and pointed to the screen:

"This Sword Master is different."

Ayu tilted his head and said:
"Why is it different?"

"She opened my homepage, and I got a +0 faith notification."

The journalist, holding a cup of instant noodles, chuckled in exasperation.
"Did you believe it, but then it seems like you didn't? Or is there some other reason?"

Ayu scratched his head.

Human thought is too complex for him to deduce.

Instead, the journalist, standing in front of the dappled light on the screen, lightly tapped the rim of the instant noodle container with his fingertips and muttered to himself:
"Interesting. Looks like I'll have to Photoshop a picture of my abs sometime. No one should doubt the 'Light Giant' label... My faith isn't enough yet; I need to expand my influence..."

In the basement, cool-toned fluorescent light cast dappled patterns of light on the girl's frameless glasses. Wrapped in a fluffy purple nightgown, she curled up in a gaming chair like a lazy cat, looking at first glance like an ordinary college student burning the midnight oil to finish a paper.

But when she slightly raised her head, the light from dozens of electronic screens danced wildly on her thick glasses.

As the steam from the instant noodles fogged up the lenses, a pair of unusually clear eyes were vaguely revealed behind them—eyes that held not weariness, but an almost greedy ambition.

The girl unconsciously bit her instant noodle fork, a little oil stain on the corner of her mouth.

Her petite figure was almost swallowed up by the flashing screens around her, but the pulsating data streams were clearly reflected obediently in her pupils, like stars surrounding a king about to awaken.

The journalist whispered:

"Public opinion... quickly manipulate this rabble, so that your master... may become a true god as soon as possible."

……

On the other hand, after dealing with the journalist's matter, Jiang Jianxin thought it over and over and decided that he still had to go to the Hope Base to take a look.

Liu Yiguan told her about the river blocking the road, and Jiang Jianxin also considered the situation of the suspended river.

—If there really is a suspended river blocking the way between the two bases, then she might as well go into that underwater contaminated area.

Zuo Siquan and Wen Yu are both struggling inside. If she goes there, she might be able to help them escape danger faster and solve the problem of the suspended river sooner.

Anyway, the time in the contaminated area is different from the actual flow rate, so it won't interfere with her real-world affairs.

If there were no suspended river, that would be the best outcome, allowing her to reach Hope Base sooner and get things sorted out as soon as possible.

The alliance did not object to Elder Jiang's decision.

So, on the morning of the second day, Jiang Jianxin completed the formalities, stepped onto the Tangguang Sword, and began his sword flight.

Thank you m（__）m清酒 for the monthly ticket and to 静静冷冷的五月, 今夜璀璨无梦, and 伯应 for the donations. Thank you all for your support!

The criterion for judging the power of faith derived from public opinion is whether or not one has believed fabricated information within the public discourse. Therefore, believing that a female journalist is a man will grant the journalist faith.

(╥_╥) I saw the messages in the background and was touched by your comfort. I will persevere and will not be affected by these comments. I am really grateful to everyone for your support along the way. (╥_╥) The creative process is indeed very hard, but whenever I think that there are people on the other side of the screen waiting for my story, I feel that all the perseverance is worth it.

It's like standing under a cherry blossom tree at the end of spring. Even though you've missed the peak bloom, a gentle breeze will still cause petals to fall softly on your shoulders.