> [Sorry! MiaStar, I'm heading over to Beatrice's stream!]
[Same here, it's blowing up over there! Haha!]
[I'm not going for Beatrice, I just want to see how many rockets Mr. James can send. This is insane!]
[You traitors… beasts… Wait for me!!]
As a dozen of her high-tier patrons left the room, MiaStar was on the verge of tears.
Aiden James, the man everyone now called Mr. James or OneOfAll, was simply too generous.
The impact of over ten thousand Super Rockets was beyond imagination.
It was more than a spectacle, it was an earthquake.
People are naturally drawn to chaos.
Everyone loves a show.
A few dozen rockets? Commonplace.
A few hundred? Impressive, but not newsworthy.
But over ten thousand?
That had never happened before.
Not once since TikTok was founded had anyone unleashed such madness.
Yet today, OneOfAll did.
This mysterious, newly emerged tycoon had ascended to godhood among the platform's elite in just a few days.
And he wasn't just spending on TikTok, he was splashing out across SharkLive, DragonStream, and every major platform.
Every move he made was louder, flashier, more extravagant than the last.
Three appearances.
Nearly fifty million spent.
At this rate, he could've just bought shares in TikTok itself.
As her viewer count continued to plummet, MiaStar clenched her fists.
She couldn't sit still anymore.
She had to make things right.
She had to apologize.
If she truly offended someone like that…
Her streaming career would be over.
Grabbing her phone, she opened WeChat and began typing, fingers trembling slightly.
> "Brother James, I'm really sorry about earlier. There were too many people in the stream, so I couldn't respond properly.
Actually, I have a few free days coming up… I was thinking of taking a trip to Manhattan.
Would you be my tour guide, James?"
The moment she hit send, her heart raced.
Meanwhile, across the city,
Aiden James leaned back in his chair, still massaging his aching hand. Two hours of rapid tapping had left his fingers numb.
"Damn… that was exhausting," he muttered. "Good thing I upgraded this body. Otherwise, I'd have cramped up halfway."
Just as he was about to take a break,
Ding-dong!
A WeChat notification popped up.
MiaStar.
He blinked.
"She turned me down for dinner earlier," he murmured, "but now she suddenly wants to fly all the way from California to Manhattan?"
Aiden chuckled, the corners of his mouth curling upward.
"So she finally got the message, huh?"
He slid the phone onto the table and stretched.
"Forget it. No more rockets tonight. My phone's about to die anyway.
Seriously, how does an iPhone 16 drain this fast?"
Five minutes after Aiden's final rocket, the TikTok servers finally caught up.
The system tallied the total.
> [It's over, it's finally over!]
[Twelve thousand seven hundred Super Rockets! That's 12,700 rockets in one session!]
[Unbelievable! History made tonight!]
And just like that, Aiden James, the mysterious OneOfAll, had shattered every record the streaming world had ever known.
[Welcome back, Dragon Emperor!]
[Holy crap, Dragon Emperor, you're finally back! You know you got humiliated? Your number-one fan got instantly crushed!]
[Before I met OneOfAll, I thought sending a hundred rockets made me a tycoon. After meeting him, I feel embarrassed to even log in unless I send at least a thousand super rockets!]
The live chat of Beatrice's Tiktok stream was still exploding with energy.
But Aiden James had already logged out quietly.
He blinked, finally noticing the bright midday light streaming through the dorm window.
Morning classes were over.
He had actually spent the entire morning sending gifts?
Not a single lecture note taken.
At Westbridge University, professors didn't babysit you. If you wanted to learn, they'd guide you. If you wanted to waste your time, that was your problem. Everything depended on self-discipline.
The front rows of class were always filled with honor students and grad-school hopefuls.
The back rows, guys like Aiden, were mostly there to scrape by with a passing grade.
Westbridge was a solid private university, respected, but not in the Ivy League.
Compared to Harvard, Stanford, or MIT, it was a tier below.
Back in high school, Aiden's grades were… average at best.
He might've coasted along that way forever.
Until the day he found out the girl he'd secretly loved for three years, Victoria Braun, was applying to Columbia University.
That changed everything.
He studied like a man possessed, fueled not by ambition, but by love.
Every teen movie had that same plot, the lazy guy who suddenly wakes up, studies three months straight, and jumps into the top ten to win his crush.
But life isn't a movie.
Aiden was proof of that.
He pushed himself hard, sure, and his grades did improve but not nearly enough.
Victoria made it to Columbia.
Aiden landed in Westbridge.
Both were good schools, but the gap between them was a canyon.
After freshman year, in an effort to forget her, he started dating Emily Rose.
It wasn't love at first. It was distraction.
But somewhere along the way, he fell hard.
Had he truly moved on from Victoria Braun?
Not really.
Three years of "devotion" to Emily were more about his own pride than love.
He wasn't loyal, he was stubborn, trying to convince himself that he had let go of the past.
But now, sitting in his dorm, Aiden realized he never had.
He could still remember it all.
Rushing into class every morning to wipe Victoria's desk clean before she arrived,
Trailing behind her after school just to make sure she got home safely,
Getting into a fight because some jerk carved her name on a desk,
Lending her books he'd never read just to talk to her for thirty seconds.
Her name had lived rent-free in his head for years.
Victoria Braun.
Perfect. Brilliant. Untouchable.
So perfect that he never dared to confess.
From the moment he entered Westbridge, he knew,
Their paths would now run parallel, never crossing again.