Chapter 3: Are You Trying to Take Out the Whole Production Crew?

In the courtyard, Jiang Chen stood over the table, studying the three basic ingredients. Comments continued to flood the livestream, most of them mocking the trio’s impossible ambitions.

Two virtual panels flickered before his eyes, followed by a crisp mechanical voice.

【Ding!】

【Host detected working on a special project!】

【The system has generated the optimal proportions for visual effect!】

【Material purity analyzed and measurements supplied. For the host’s safety, the system will automatically install a timing device in the product.】

Jiang Chen smiled at the rows of measurements, precise down to the gram. Perfect timing. Now he wouldn’t have to experiment.

He picked up a small electronic scale Zhou Fei had brought from his shop and methodically weighed the powders: yellow powder, white crystals, and crushed black charcoal. He added all the components the system had supplied. He didn’t understand them, but he couldn’t go wrong following the system!

The cameraman stood two meters away, his legs beginning to tremble at Jiang Chen’s practiced movements.

“Jiang Chen… you’re really going to make that? It’s dangerous. You could end up in prison. And why are you putting wires in it?”

Without looking up, Jiang Chen gently stirred the mixture with a small wooden stick.

“Relax. The wire serves as a fuse. Theoretically, this is perfectly feasible. We’re just conducting a little chemistry experiment to entertain our viewers. It’s scientific exploration. How can you call that a crime?”

The stream’s popularity surged again.

【Popularity】+1 +1 +1 +1…

【A freaking chemistry experiment! Scientific exploration, my ass!】

【Dude! You’re mixing those three things in proportion and telling me it’s not a crime?】

【A real sentence-worthy situation! Their future is looking longer and longer!】

【I came for a comedy show. Please don’t get yourselves killed chasing five million!】

【I don’t think they’re trying to take themselves out. They’re trying to take out the whole production crew.】

【What’s going on?! Why is he putting wires in it too?!】

Jiang Chen grinned at the racing comments. “Don’t worry, everyone. As long as nothing goes wrong, nothing will go wrong. I’ve already done the calculations in my head. It’ll be fine.”

Beside him, Zhou Fei was sweating as he worked. He’d found a thick, sturdy PVC water pipe in the courtyard’s scrap heap. He gradually poured Jiang Chen’s black mixture into it, then shoved it down hard with a wooden stick.

As he packed it, he looked back. “Brother Chen, we’re already doing it, so let’s go all in. Nobody’s going to die. By the way, should we seal the bottom of the pipe or leave a hole?”

Jiang Chen paused and looked at it. “Seal it, obviously. Otherwise, how are we going to get enough chamber pressure—uh, enough visual effect?”

“Got it!” Zhou Fei found strong glue and a piece of plastic, sealed the bottom tightly, and continued pouring and packing the powder.

Wang Zhen stood as far away as he could, holding a dustpan against his chest like a shield. The cameraman’s heart twitched every time Zhou Fei rammed the stick down. Viewers felt their own breath catch through the screen.

【Holy shit! Stop pounding it!】

【How is this a firework? They’re making a detonator by hand!】

【Sealing the bottom and packing it tight? If that blows, nothing within ten meters will survive!】

【I called the police! I really did! This show is too hardcore!】

【These three have guts. One dares instruct, one dares do it, and the last one dares watch!】

The minutes passed. Daylight faded, and the last rays of evening fell across the farmhouse courtyard.

On the table lay a rigid cylinder about thirty centimeters long and as thick as an arm, tightly sealed at both ends, with only a homemade fuse protruding.

When the trembling cameraman zoomed in on the finished product, the comments briefly stopped. Then the stream erupted as never before. Viewership shot from ten thousand to thirty thousand.

【HOLY SHIT!!!】

【What the hell is that?!】

【You call that a firework?! It’s practically a cousin of C4!】

【That shape, that finish, that menacing presence—I’d believe you if you said it was for blowing up a bunker!】

【Where’s the director? Stop them! If they light it, the whole village will be attending a funeral feast!】

The cameraman looked from the comments to the “detonator” on the table. A chill ran from his feet to the top of his head. If anything happened, he was the only one documenting it on site. They’d surely arrest him as an accomplice!

He fixed the camera in place, hurried to the courtyard gate, and called the director again with shaking hands.

“Director… boo-hoo, Director…” He broke down as soon as the call connected.

In the lounge, the director was about to order takeout. He frowned. “Why are you wailing? What happened? Didn’t I tell you to keep filming?”

Crouched in a corner, the cameraman spoke in a frantic whisper. “Director, it’s the cameraman from stream 952 again! Please come here! Stop them! They’ve actually made it! It’s not a firework, it’s a damn detonator! Thicker than my arm!”

The director scoffed. “Are you getting too caught up in the act? A few amateurs make a detonator in a few hours with some lousy fertilizer? You think I’m that easy to scare?”

He turned to the screen. “Switch to camera 952. Let’s see what they’ve made.”

The assistant switched the feed. The thick plastic tube, tightly sealed and fitted with a long fuse, appeared on the table. The lounge fell silent.

The director sprayed out his second mouthful of tea, this time all over the console.

“Holy shit!” He sprang off the sofa, eyes wide. “What the hell have they made?!”

The assistant director slid out of his chair, pointing at the screen with a trembling finger. “D-Director, that shape, that size… If it goes off, the whole crew will be sewing uniforms in prison!”

The director panicked, his voice cracking. “I just wanted to make money from a lousy variety show! These lunatics are going to send me straight to jail! Move! Find out where stream 952 is! Security, everyone out! Stop them! Don’t let them light it!”

The backstage area erupted. Staff burst through the doors and ran for the location.

Back in the courtyard, darkness had fallen. Jiang Chen admired his masterpiece, then turned to the cameraman hiding outside the gate.

“Hey, buddy. Got a lighter? Give me a light.”

The cameraman shuddered and stumbled three steps back. “Wh-what are you going to do?”

Jiang Chen tilted his head and pointed at the cylinder. “What else? Light the firework. Why would I spend all afternoon making it, to use as a decoration?”

Zhou Fei rubbed his hands excitedly. “Hurry, Brother Chen! It’s completely dark. Set it off now and the fireworks will be spectacular! We can celebrate the three of us becoming a team!”

Wang Zhen had retreated to the pigpen at the far edge of the courtyard. He clamped his hands over his ears, squeezed his eyes shut, and shouted, “Count to three before you light it!”

The cameraman stared at the three madmen, numb, shaking his head wildly. “I don’t have one! I absolutely do not have a lighter! Don’t ask me!”