The tropical dawn broke over the Uncharted Island not with a gentle sunrise, but with a sudden, suffocating wall of heat that pulled the damp humidity straight out of the soil. As the production crew's specialized day-drones booted up and hovered back into the clearing, the live-stream screens flashed back to life.
The grace period was officially over. The free baseline rations from the grand launch were gone, and the viewers tuning back in were greeted by the immediate, harsh reality of the wilderness.
Down by the rushing freshwater river, Yang Zixuan was determined to make his mark. He had spent the last forty-five minutes wading through the shallows, his expensive boots soaked, clutching a carved wooden stick. His eyes were wide with a laser-focused intensity. He was a proud young master, and after watching Chen Ying effortlessly take control of the campsite the night before, he wanted to prove his utility—especially with the cameras rolling.
Splash!
