I really don't want to be famous, but the collapse is still chasing me

Chapter 544 I have done everything I could

The Great Black Pagoda departed gracefully.

Jimi picked up the microphone with trembling hands, his lips shaking, and his breath was clearly visible under the lights, as if he were not hosting a program, but on a polar expedition.

"I...I didn't expect that Lady Black Tower...would actually choose...to preserve her strength! As expected of Lady Black Tower, what a wise choice!"

He felt his tongue was almost frozen, and he couldn't feel it at all.

"Now only Little Black Tower from the Boss Team and March 7th from the Butterfly Team are left on the field! Can they...can they hold on?"

Although she said that, Jimi was internally screaming:

Stop! Please! End this already! If this continues, he doubts he'll even make it off this stage alive. Tomorrow's headlines will be "Famous Host Dies of Freezing, All Because of a Joke."

Would this be considered a work-related injury?

I have to get reimbursed from Boss Su Chen for emotional distress, medical expenses, and a top-of-the-line down jacket!

[Gone...? The Great Black Tower... just like that?]

I think leaving was the right thing to do. It's not worth risking your brain for just one point... You can see she was even walking with her feet turned to the wrong way.

I agree... this is no longer an intellectual contest... this is a Siberian survival challenge.

Now only Little Black Tower is left on the field... and March 7th is still to come, but... it feels like... Little Black Tower's CPU is about to overheat, his eyes are all unfocused...

[I...why...am I trembling even when I'm just posting a comment...]

On stage, Sino turned her gaze to Little Black Tower, who had just raised her hand, though her movements were somewhat stiff.

"Ms. Little Black Tower, you raised your hand because you want to...?"

Little Black Tower's body stiffened abruptly, then he moved his arm very slowly.

"No...it's nothing, my hands were just a little sore, so I was moving them around to improve blood circulation."

“Very good.” Seno smiled faintly, a smile that, to everyone else, was no different from the gaze of death. “Then, let’s move on to the next round.”

He cleared his throat, and a new wave of mental pollution descended.

One day, Di Renjie told his wife that he was going to remove the character "Ren" from his name. His wife asked why.

Sino showed no mercy.

Di Renjie said: "If I were Di Jie (DJ), would you love me?"

"Hahahahaha..." A shrill, mechanical laugh rang out from the side, sounding particularly eerie in the cold, deathly silent theater.

"That's the best joke I've ever heard in my life! It's absolutely hilarious!"

The viewers in the live stream had completely given up resisting, and they were too lazy to even post comments. Many people quietly turned off the air conditioning and pulled out last year's down jackets from their closets.

Backstage.

"Achoo!" Hanabi hugged her arms and sneezed hard, her nose turning red from the cold.

"Achoo! Achoo!" Su Chen and Wan Di were also hit one after another. The three of them instinctively huddled together, shivering, like three quails huddling together for warmth in the cold wind.

On stage, Xiao Heita's expression froze completely.

She stood there, motionless, staring blankly ahead, becoming a delicate yet fragile ice sculpture.

Only March 7th still stands tall, though its breath is now thicker.

"Little Black Tower contestant... has lost consciousness! System crashed!" With his last ounce of strength, Jimi shakily raised the microphone and announced, "The ultimate winner of this round of the intellectual competition is—Miss March 7th from the Butterfly Team!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Jimi rolled his eyes and fell straight backward, finally realizing his career ideal of "earning money while standing and accepting work-related injuries while lying down".

March 7th staggered off the stage, her steps unsteady, unaware of the weariness in her eyes.

She muttered to herself in a voice only she could hear.

"March, oh March, this is my limit..."

"I have done everything I could."

"I didn't expect... Sino to be so powerful, I almost couldn't even withstand him."

"Luckily, my ice resistance is already maxed out... phew..."

"I reckon he won't wake up anytime soon..."

"rely on you."

The moment she finished speaking, her calm eyes returned to their clear yet foolish state.

"Huh? How did I get here? Is the match over? Did I win?"

March 7 blinked and returned backstage with a blank expression.

Then, she was stunned by what she saw.

The backstage area had been transformed into a makeshift field hospital.

Including the host Jimi, who had just been carried off the stage by the staff, most of the theater staff and contestants were lying haphazardly on the floor, covered with whatever clothes, curtains, or even tablecloths they could find, muttering, "It's so cold."

Meanwhile, doctors Feng Jin, Luo Sha, Bai Lu, and Su were busy shuttling between the "patients," their foreheads covered in sweat.

"Quick! Take this gentleman's temperature! Is the thermometer frozen?"

"Dr. Rakshasa, we need hot water bottles here! The more the better!"

"Ouch!" Bailu stamped her foot. "My acupuncture needles are frozen solid and stuck to the box!"

Director Reich, wrapped in a thick blanket and shivering, arrived on set. Looking at the devastation, he gave what was perhaps the most tragic order of his career over the walkie-talkie.

"Attention all channels! Attention all channels! We're going to have a half-hour commercial break... no, an hour! Before... before starting the next match, ensure everyone's safety! That's an order!"

Then, with trembling hands, Rick switched the walkie-talkie to a private channel.

"Yao Guang, Yao Guang, are you still there? How are you doing over there? Answer me! Don't freeze to death!"

A buzzing sound came from the other end of the walkie-talkie, and a moment later, a woman's voice with a heavy nasal tone rang out.

"Ah sneeze——!"

Yao Guang sneezed violently.

"I'm still here... Don't worry, I won't freeze to death. The next match... Achoo! I've almost figured it out... Consider it a way to... warm everyone up..."

"What will the next match be...?" Rick pressed, a very bad feeling creeping over him.

"The next match..." Yao Guang's voice sounded somewhat unsteady, yet it carried a fierce, clenched edge.

"Let's see...who has the stronger firepower. Let's get back to normal!"