Chapter 229: Non-Chief Possession

Qin Yun suited up, got in line, and boarded a helicopter.

It was a large helicopter; ten people sat inside, front and back, each fully equipped like him. A few clearly knew each other and exchanged brief greetings.

Soon, the aircraft took off and soon hovered high above.

The first person dashed out without hesitation, leaping straight down. About a thousand meters below, a bright yellow parachute suddenly deployed, and the man adjusted his trajectory steadily toward the target.

Soon after, the second person jumped right after the first opened his chute, one after another, like a suicide squad—no one hesitated.

When it came to Qin Yun, he did the same.

Facing a furious wind, Qin Yun stabilized his body instantly. He glanced at the target below—two thousand meters down, the target was tiny but clearly visible. He did not open his parachute at a thousand meters like the others.

His body fell like a free-falling stone, and in moments he overtook those ahead.

"Fuck, this guy's insane—he's not opening his chute?"

"OMG, did his chute gear break?"

Watching Qin Yun zoom past nearby, the other competitors were startled.

Only when he neared six hundred meters did Qin Yun open his parachute. By then, he was already in second place, just a hundred meters above the leader.

It was downright absurd.

Moments later, he saw the first competitor land precisely on the three-ring mark—three centimeters from the electronic bullseye.

Qin Yun adjusted his course, felt he could hit the bullseye effortlessly, then pulled the control line, gliding cleanly over the man's head and landing steadily on the opposite side.

Many above him laughed at the sight.

They'd thought the extreme chute delay meant a genius—turns out he was just showing off.

Qin Yun tried two or three more times, confirmed he could land accurately on the target from two thousand meters, then stopped practicing.

When he stepped down from the helicopter and met Zeng Luo and the others, a system panel suddenly appeared before his eyes, followed by a system voice.

Publishing check-in task: The host must complete a 13, 00-meter high-altitude static-line skydive in the Red Bull Extreme Skydiving Exhibition, deploying the parachute at 600 meters and landing inside the Black Throat Sinkhole to complete the check-in.

Seeing this check-in task, Qin Yun's pupils shrank slightly.

Not because of the height—but because of the chute-opening altitude.

Six hundred meters was the extreme of extremes; one misstep and he'd be crushed into pulp—utterly disregard for life.

But the real problem wasn't that—it was landing inside the Black Throat Sinkhole.

The Black Throat Sinkhole's diameter was large enough, but its vertical depth from ground to surface was 398 meters. That meant to complete the system's task, he'd have to open his chute at just two hundred meters above normal ground level.

This…

Even Qin Yun felt a chill run down his spine.

He didn't even hear Zeng Luo and the others calling his name.

"Master Qin, you alright?"

Qin Yun snapped back, saw their worried faces, and smiled lightly: "Fine. Landing on the bullseye from two thousand meters? No problem at all. Don't worry."

"Good to hear."

Nie Jun and Jiang Shuangxing weren't sure if Qin Yun was boasting, but at least he looked confident—that was a good sign.

Back at the hotel, Su Huan had already finalized deals with all sponsors.

PD provided the main and backup racing parachutes; Cypres supplied the automatic deployment system and high-altitude safety gear; PhoenixFly provided windproof and cold-resistant one-piece suits; Cookie supplied fully sealed communication helmets; AirLiquide provided oxygen systems; Salomon provided other auxiliary equipment.

Six sponsors brought him nearly one million euros in income.

Of course, only if he placed in the top three of the finals—otherwise, everything was void.

"Darling, amazing!"

Qin Yun pecked Su Huan on the lips.

"How was training?"

Su Huan wrapped her arms around Qin Yun's neck, pressing her lips close to his, their breaths mingling.

"Pretty good, no pressure. Top-tier competitors won't feel any stress at two thousand meters—unless something goes wrong, hitting the bullseye shouldn't be an issue."

That's what Qin Yun thought—but top-tier competitors were few.

The two lingered a while, then Qin Yun went to the bathroom to shower.

He didn't tell Su Huan the details of the check-in task—telling her would only make her more anxious. All she needed to know was that it was a ten-thousand-meter jump.

The process? Irrelevant.

For him, this check-in task was also extremely extreme.

"Damn, opening the chute at just two hundred meters above ground? One slight misjudgment and I'm turned into paste."

Qin Yun felt the pressure.

He did a quick calculation: falling from over ten thousand meters in freefall, he'd reach terminal velocity in about ten seconds, then speed wouldn't increase further.

At his weight, that speed was roughly 414 km/h—meaning he'd drop over a hundred meters in just one second.

The time needed for the parachute to fully deploy was 2–3 seconds. If his direction was off, death was certain—no room for error.

That meant he couldn't afford a single mistake: either land precisely inside the Black Throat Sinkhole, or open the chute at six or seven hundred meters above ground. The problem was this:

If he missed the correct chute-opening altitude, he had no choice but to risk the Black Throat Sinkhole—otherwise, his life wouldn't be his own.

Of course, with his master-level skydiving skills, he still had a good chance of landing inside the sinkhole.

"Forget it. Don't overthink it. I'll worry about it after I win the championship."

Since he entered this competition, Qin Yun was aiming for first place. His earlier comment about just making the finals? Pure modesty. If he couldn't win with his Master-level skills, he'd just be unbelievably unlucky.

…

On competition day, the entire town of Saint-Amand was engulfed in celebration.

On camera, countless crowds gathered outside, flowing like a river; hot air balloons and ribbons floated in the sky; noise erupted everywhere.

When Qin Yun saw his livestream viewer count stabilize, he spoke.

"Hello everyone, I'm Qin Yun, a casual skydiving enthusiast. Currently in Saint-Amand, France. Local time: 9: 0 a. ., May 18. The sun is warm, the weather is pleasant. Tens of thousands of competitors from around the globe are ready to show their skills."

"Hahaha, the temp just showed up."

"Laughed to death—tens of thousands of countries."

"Qin is so funny."

"Master Qin, which event are you competing in? I love stunt shows."

"Can Master Qin win the championship? I see many top international clubs competing."

"I've never seen Master Qin perform before—I doubt he'll make it."

"Believe in Master Qin."

Reading comments in multiple languages, Qin Yun smiled: "I'm competing in skydiving, representing our country's Changkong Club. See that guy? You all know him—Bo Lang himself, and also the owner of Changkong Club."

"Wow, rich playboy, so hot."

"Damn, birds of a feather—Qin is handsome, and this guy's young and rich too? The world's unfair."

"Hmm, his eyes look so melancholy—why does he seem so down?"

Zeng Luo saw the comments too. Though inwardly exasperated, he kept a calm face and waved: "Hello everyone, I'm Zeng Luo of Changkong Club. Thank you for supporting Master Qin and Changkong Club."

Qin Yun's drone wandered freely through the town, letting domestic viewers marvel at the exotic scenery—anticipation surged instantly.

"Master Qin, how will you livestream during the competition?"

"Master Qin, can you send me that handsome guy's phone?"

"Qin, turn around—I'm behind you."

"Master Qin, good luck."

Comments flooded the chat too fast for Qin Yun to keep up.

He said: "Just now, Zeng Luo seemed down because several Changkong Club competitors were placed in weak groups—he feels like he's cursed by the Non-Chief Spirit, so his face is black."

"You probably know this already: Red Bull invited every top-tier skydiving team worldwide. In my group alone, there are seven or eight top clubs—like America's TEMU, Britain's Royal, Australia's Cyberpunk, and others."

"Getting into the top five for the semifinals under such pressure is unimaginably hard."

"But don't worry—I'll make the semifinals even with my eyes closed."

Seeing Qin Yun so confident, domestic and international viewers reacted differently.

Domestically, people trusted him blindly—if Qin Yun said it, even if it sounded arrogant, they laughed and believed anyway. But international viewers, having watched his livestreams for a shorter time, though optimistic, found his arrogance slightly off-putting.

"Qin, don't underestimate them. Every club you mentioned is top-tier—each of their athletes is a legend."

"Yeah, Qin, isn't there a Chinese saying: 'Careful sailing ensures a thousand-year voyage'?"

"Qin, I support you, but I support my own country's athletes more—haha."

Qin read these comments but didn't argue. He simply replied: "You'll see when the time comes."

"As for the livestream, don't worry—my drone is synced with Red Bull's official signal. The AI director will auto-switch angles. The stream won't cut out."

Soon, Qin Yun rejoined the lineup. By now, the Douyin livestream alone had reached five million viewers—its popularity surged to #1, leading by a landslide. Many outdoor streamers, seeing this, reluctantly went offline to avoid the spotlight.

Shu Han, You Jundu, and others checked their phones—viewer counts and nonstop gift donations made them envious beyond words.

Indeed, people couldn't be compared—the gap was too vast.

In just that short time, Shu Han had seen over a hundred Carnival gifts—each worth three thousand yuan, totaling thirty thousand yuan alone. It was insane.

Only now did they understand the true value of the name "Qin Yun."

Before the competition began, he pulled aside several Changkong Club competitors for a quick interview, leaving them nervous as hell.

Anyone would be nervous knowing millions were watching.

As the opening ceremony began, Qin Yun narrated while waiting quietly.

"Damn, these foreigners' meetings are just as boring and long as ours."

"Haha, if not for Master Qin's commentary, who'd know what these foreigners are yapping about?"

"Don't you think the uniforms of the Sky Club are cool?"

"Xiao Luo's taste is pretty good."

At this moment, the opening ceremony was drawing to a close; the large screen on the podium had displayed all the participants' names according to their events.

This year's competition was called Extreme Skydiving, with skydiving as the main event and the rest merely side events—but that didn't mean they were unimportant, only that their popularity paled in comparison to skydiving.

Professional competition, professional judges, professional venues, professional commentary, professional broadcasting!

Red Bull had spared no expense, bringing in the world's most renowned judges and commentators, and even some of the guest commentators were international superstars.

Qin Yun pointed to a row on the big screen and laughed: "Look everyone, my name is the forty-second on this list—my team includes Edu from Temu, Ilya from the British Royal, Edmund from Cyberpunk, Sharu from the Pharaohs..."

Every name Qin Yun mentioned was a top-tier expert, but since domestic audiences were unfamiliar with skydiving, they felt little impact.

When he finished speaking, Nie Jun sighed beside him.

"Master Qin, just do your best."

Seeing his lack of confidence, the live stream viewers immediately grew dissatisfied.

"This old guy hasn't even competed yet, and he's already acting like he's going to lose."

"If you don't even have confidence, why bother entering the competition?"

"Old Guy, you're his coach—what's going on?"

"Don't say that—it's precisely because Nie Coach knows the truth that he has no confidence. I just checked: Qin's entire team is made up of absolute elites."