Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C84

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Chen Bai also called. Douyu, the streaming platform Gu Lang worked with, had revised their contract and wanted to set a time for an official signing. Between the lines, it was clear that Douyu was planning something big—something related to outdoor live-streaming. Chen Bai suggested that Gu Lang sign as soon as possible; if he did, he might even catch this wave of opportunity.

Watching Gu Lang handle each call with a different tone depending on the caller, Wang Ping suddenly realized he might have underestimated this minion of his.

Wang Ping’s first night in Shengjiawu was destined to be sleepless.

With Grandma Sheng’s tacit approval and Gu Lang’s arrangement, a small room on the second floor had been prepared for Wang Ping. Originally, Grandma Sheng had planned to let him sleep in the living room. Dahei, her dog, slept in its kennel at night, leaving the living room’s sleeping pad free.

Thankfully, Gu Lang’s storytelling skills had softened Grandma Sheng’s stance earlier, much to the relief of both Wang Ping and Dahei. If Wang Ping had ended up sleeping on the dog pad in the living room, Gu Lang would’ve spent the night worrying about being kicked out of bed by an irate badger.

The layout of the second floor mirrored the first, with separate rooms on either side. However, where the living room should have been, there was now a large room serving as Gu Lang’s storage space. It was crammed with all sorts of “treasures” he’d collected over the years: exercise equipment, gaming consoles, toys, figurines, and even a collection of glossy magazines featuring animals.

Wang Ping had sneaked in earlier to take a look. But just as he was flipping through one of the magazines in the spirit of “research,” Gu Lang burst in, face red. He traded a fully charged tablet for Wang Ping’s departure and promptly locked the door behind him once the badger left.

The room assigned to Wang Ping was next to the “storage room,” a modest bedroom with its own bathroom. Across the hall were Gu Lang’s bedroom and study. It was impressive how Grandma Sheng had managed to build such a modern house in the village, complete with a functional plumbing system. The cost of installing running water and drainage must have rivaled the expense of constructing the house itself.

According to Gu Lang, things hadn’t always been this convenient. Back when he was a child, Shengjiawu didn’t have running water. Even the best drainage system wouldn’t have helped then. It was only after the villagers pooled funds to pave the roads and extend water pipelines down from the mountain that life became more comfortable.

On the third floor were Gu Lang’s parents’ rooms, though they rarely visited. When they did, it was always a quick trip, leaving the upper floor perpetually empty. Neither Grandma Sheng nor Gu Lang bothered to clean it anymore.

The small bedroom on the second floor had once been a guest room. But after Grandma Sheng gradually handed over the family business to Gu Lang’s parents, visitors became scarce, and the room fell into disuse.

Having his own room, no matter how modest, was a luxury Wang Ping appreciated. His original expectation had been to sleep in the living room, but if that had happened, Gu Lang’s fears might have come true. There was a good chance a certain badger would have stormed into the room in the middle of the night, kicking him off the bed and forcing him onto the dog pad.

After ten o’clock, when the prime-time TV shows ended, the village of Shengjiawu grew quiet. Aside from the occasional bark of a dog, the only sounds were the chirping of cicadas and crickets, filling the summer night with their symphony.

Wang Ping didn’t sleep. Instead, he silently counted the minutes, waiting.

He wasn’t an impatient person—or rather, an impatient badger—but the thought of what he was about to do made him restless.

It had been so long since he’d been injured in Africa. By now, Wang Ping was almost certain that his human self was likely gone. Still, after living as an animal for so long, he found himself indifferent to whether his human self had survived or not. From the moment he picked up a gun, he knew the risks. To still be alive, albeit in another form, felt like a gift from fate.

As the person involved, Wang Ping had every right to distance himself from his past. But what about everyone else? What about Anna? And Wang An? Did she know? If she did, had she confronted Luke? Or thrown a party to celebrate?

His profession wasn’t exactly a secret. If Wang An ever saw his black-and-white obituary photo on WAP’s website, who knows what reckless thing she might do?

In the past, Wang Ping hadn’t looked into it because he lacked the means. Now that he had access, he couldn’t sleep until he found answers.

WAP maintained a public-facing website where they posted official news and updates. Whenever field operatives were lost, their names and photos were published as a tribute. Beyond that, the security team had its own internal network, accessible through the employee portal on the main site. This network contained personnel statuses, mission logs, and reports.

Given the secretive nature of the security team, the internal network was heavily guarded, requiring special credentials to access. Wang Ping had always wanted to check it but never found the opportunity.

Though he doubted he could change anything, he still needed to know.

Waiting until the dead of night, when he was sure both Grandma Sheng and Gu Lang were asleep, Wang Ping quietly slipped out of his room and headed straight for Gu Lang’s “storage room.” Earlier in the day, he’d spotted traces of laptops inside. Some were even unopened, carelessly stacked in a corner like junk.

Gu Lang might have locked the door, but he forgot that Wang Ping didn’t follow the “usual routes.”

Using his claws to grip the wooden doorframe, Wang Ping scurried up to the top of the door, nudged open the ceiling panel above, and squeezed through. Crawling along the ceiling beams, he carefully moved another panel aside and dropped down into the room, heading straight for the pile of laptops in the corner.

He ignored the unopened ones. Not only would Gu Lang notice if they went missing, but setting up a new computer was beyond Wang Ping’s expertise, whether as an animal or as his former human self.

What he wanted was one of the older laptops—ones that had been used briefly and then discarded when newer models came along.

After rummaging through the clutter for a while, Wang Ping selected a compact, slightly outdated netbook. Dragging it to the door, he twisted the handle and slipped out.

Coming in through the ceiling was one thing; going out the same way would have been redundant. As for the displaced ceiling panels, Wang Ping had plenty of time to put them back after returning the laptop to his room.

Heart racing with anticipation, Wang Ping hurried back to his room, locked the door, and tossed the laptop onto the small bed. Plugging it in, he crawled under the covers with the device, carefully retracting his claws before pressing the power button with the blunt side of his paw. A soft hum, and the screen lit up.

Outside, Gu Lang—who Wang Ping assumed was fast asleep—yawned as he stepped out of his study.

Just as he was about to turn in, Gu Lang received a WeChat notification. The full video edit of his African adventure, which he’d commissioned days ago, was ready. So, he climbed out of bed and spent nearly two hours watching it in his study.

It was worth it. Professionally edited footage was leagues better than the amateur cuts he’d attempted himself. He’d worried it might bore him to sleep, but instead, he watched it all in one sitting.

Scratching his back as he passed the storage room, Gu Lang paused, glancing curiously at the partially shifted ceiling panel above. He muttered under his breath, “Tsk, just a few outdated magazines? Talk about being sheltered!”

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