Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Releasing the Video

In real time, another five or six days passed.

At first, Jing Bao Tian’s Weibo comments were still full of insults. But as he kept updating his site with new information—worldbuilding, maps, detailed NPC intel—people started to hesitate.

It was too complete.

Too coherent.

And mostly—was Jing Bao Tian really that free? Would he build an entire fake world just to scam people?

The most curious were the players from the original group chat who hadn’t booked Broken Sect.

They asked constantly at first. But once Jing Bao Tian got too busy in-game, most of them gradually lost interest. Not because they believed him, but because without screenshots or video, belief felt ridiculous.

Some people still analyzed what Jing Bao Tian had posted, trying to judge whether Yun Zhou Continent could even exist as a “game.”

“Holy crap,” someone wrote. “Every NPC has detailed intel. Plus a map and demon beast materials? If it’s this detailed, it needs a massive hard drive.”

[V-Family Superfan: I heard Big Shot say this game has only opened one beginner village map. If it’s already this detailed, how huge will later maps be?]

[Philanthropist: I still think it’s hype. What kind of game runs a no-wipe test and won’t even allow screenshots?]

[Born Emperor: Yeah. Streaker and the others haven’t talked in the group lately. Who knows if it’s really that fun.]

Then Jing Bao Tian finally spoke.

[Jing Bao Tian: I know you’re anxious, brothers. Heaven rewards hard work. We finally grinded enough in the game to trade for video recording permission. There’s too much to show, but it’s only one hour. I recorded a rough highlight reel. Watch it yourselves.]

The group chat erupted.

Jing Bao Tian didn’t waste time. He dropped a link.

It was his Weibo.

The title alone was enough to make people choke.

“Start with a Broken Sect” hands-on + review: A game from the next era. A masterpiece beyond our tech, or something unknown?

A masterpiece beyond our tech?

Was he insane?

Even when the V Clan game had taken the world by storm, nobody dared to brag like that.

People clicked anyway.

The video opened on… gameplay.

Actual gameplay.

And viewers immediately froze.

Why were there several Perfected on screen?

The first scene showed Chen Miao Miao and A Wu discussing spiritual herbs. Behind them, houses clung to the edge of a mountain cliff.

In-game, nearly half a month had passed. With the design players’ guidance, Longevity Sect had started to look like a real place.

Dozens of small courtyard homes—simple, rural in style—were built in terraces along the cliff face. The overall design was consistent, but each house carried small personal touches.

Behind them, misty mountains rose in layers. Thin smoke curled from cooking fires. Now and then, a Perfected passed through the frame.

The camera slowly pulled back, revealing the full curve of the mountain. The buildings sat halfway up the slope. Forests pressed close, thick and dark, and mist drifted through the trees like breath.

If you only looked at the scenery, it felt like quiet retirement—peaceful, untouched, impossibly clean.

The camera couldn’t pull back forever. There was a limit.

Then a girl raised her hand toward a boy who looked about twelve. In her palm, a spiritual herb hovered, perfectly still.

That was when the “game” stopped looking like anything anyone recognized.

Jing Bao Tian’s voice cut in.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Jing Bao Tian. My current game ID is Han Tian. I might just use my game ID for videos from now on—so you can call me Han Tian.”

“I’m a semi-professional game reviewer, but from today on, I might become a full-time commentator for ‘Start with a Broken Sect.’ I’m probably the first person doing commentary, because I paid real money for this recording permission.”

“First, I need to tell you something.”

“What you’re seeing is real.”

“It’s the game’s footage.”

“Yes—this game is a 100% full-dive, real holographic simulation.”

The bullet comments exploded.

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“How is that possible?”

“That Perfected footage is a game?”

“You hired actors, right?”

“Impossible. Absolutely impossible!”

Han Tian’s tone didn’t waver, like he’d expected every word.

He swung the view to another location. “Because this is recorded in my first-person view, you can’t see me. Next, I’ll do a continuous long take. No cuts. I’ll show you a corner of this world.”

“If you still don’t believe me, I’ll put up one million. Find a real-life place that matches this exactly, and you can slap me in the face.”

The comments went even wilder.

The video kept moving.

Han Tian watched A Wu finish speaking with Chen Miao Miao and leave. He approached Chen Miao Miao and asked, “Big Shot Miao Miao, how did it go?”

“Not much,” Chen Miao Miao said. Her gaze was strange, because from her perspective, Han Tian’s eyes flickered with odd data. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

Han Tian pointed at himself. “First-person recording. System-granted permission.”

Chen Miao Miao’s expression cleared. “You earned enough points?”

“Fan Gu Zhou earned five hundred points and redeemed one hour of recording permission. I bought it from him.”

Chen Miao Miao sighed, impressed. “He’s incredible. He actually traded away all his spirit stones for points.”

“His brewing is on track now. He can keep earning,” Han Tian said. Then he glanced as if time itself was chasing him. “I can’t chat. I only have one hour. I’m going to record real footage. I’m heading to Wangan County.”

Chen Miao Miao smiled, calm. “Go.”

So Han Tian took a skeptical audience and began recording—straight down the mountain, toward Wangan County.