Chapter 230: Promotion (A Little Traffic, Please)

The ten groups were divided into three sub-regions; Qin Yun was in Sub-region Three, and due to his group's placement, he certainly wouldn't be competing that day. So after the competition officially began, he wandered around freely, feeling relaxed—compared to the others from Changkong Club, he might as well have been on vacation.

"Look, the one coming down is Darren Wayne, captain of the American TEMU team. His first jump had a slight error, landing two centimeters from the bullseye, but he adjusted slightly on the second jump and landed exactly on the center—0 cm. His skill is extremely strong."

"Don't think that one or two centimeters is something you can just casually stretch your foot to hit. If you think that, you're wrong."

Qin Yun looked up at the parachute floating like a colorful balloon and mentioned a point that interested the live stream viewers.

"Isn't that right? I think since you're already that close, isn't it easy to just stretch your foot a bit farther?"

"I think the same."

"In the live footage just now, that guy named Edgar stepped on the third ring, but I clearly saw he could've pushed in a bit more."

Qin Yun smiled: "The reason he couldn't is because skydiving from two thousand meters is no longer the conventional competition you're familiar with. In our known standard precision skydiving events, the jump height is usually below one thousand meters, typically around eight or nine hundred meters. Even then, due to high-altitude winds, turbulence, and crosswinds, perfect precision is impossible to achieve."

"Meanwhile, upon landing, the legs absorb impact by bending the knees to dissipate force, and the entire body is pressed into the ground by inertia. That means your landing posture is fixed—you can't make even a micro-adjustment. That's why precision in low-altitude precision skydiving is controlled within a few centimeters—it's still manageable."

"But with Red Bull's extreme precision skydiving, when you reach four or six thousand meters, you'll understand—the margin of error will grow larger. I believe at six thousand meters, the deviation from the bullseye will likely be ten or even dozens of meters. Trying to match the precision of one or two thousand meters is nearly impossible."

"As for my challenge at ten thousand meters, hitting a target point only a few centimeters wide is impossible. So even though the Black Throat Abyss has a large diameter, the high-altitude air currents are far more unpredictable. If I can't control my freefall properly during this time, I may lose the chance to enter the Black Throat Abyss long before I reach it."

Hearing Qin Yun's explanation, everyone suddenly understood.

On the first day of competition, apart from Qin Yun, Shu Han, and You Jundu, Tang Zhou and Fang Yichen from Changkong Club were unlucky and competed that day.

The first to compete among them was Tang Zhou, number thirty-two in the third small group.

At this moment, the helicopter had stabilized at two thousand meters altitude; the outline was visible, but details were impossible to make out—like a peanut.

"Friends, my teammate Tang Zhou is now in position."

At this moment, the director switched to the helicopter's internal footage, and Qin Yun's drone feed was seamlessly integrated. In the frame, Tang Zhou was fully equipped; due to the altitude, he wore no protective helmet.

But by four or six thousand meters, you'll need one.

After all, at that altitude, the temperature, oxygen levels, and gales can cause serious harm.

Tang Zhou's expression appeared calm. After the first jumper exited the cabin, he waited twenty meters, then gave the camera a thumbs-up before immediately diving down.

"Look, Tang Zhou's body is extremely stable—he's controlling it well. This shows his foundation is solid," Qin Yun said, squinting at the freefalling figure high above.

"At two thousand meters for precision skydiving, the ideal parachute deployment height is as low as possible, because lower means less interference. The higher you deploy, the more easily air currents will push you off course, and correction becomes impossible. But the lower you deploy, the less time you have to correct."

"Bro Qin, what's the best height to deploy?"

"Yeah, I've noticed many top experts deploy around eight hundred meters, especially the elite ones."

Qin Yun smiled: "During my practice yesterday, I deployed at six hundred meters. At that height, hitting the target point is effortless."

Watching Qin Yun's calm demeanor, the live stream viewers didn't feel awe—they only felt a wave of arrogance.

"Damn, the arrogance king has descended."

"666, Qin, here's a pair of sunglasses for you."

"Hahaha, killed me—now you guys are asking after eating your fill."

At that moment, Qin Yun suddenly saw Tang Zhou's figure in the sky jerk violently, shaking hard. Though he stabilized immediately, he drifted dozens of meters to one side.

"Tang Zhou was affected by air currents—he'll probably deploy now."

No sooner had he spoken than the Changkong Club's colors burst open high above.

"The deployment height is now one thousand meters—not too bad. If he controls it well, he can still reach the bullseye. Let's wish Tang Zhou success."

Seconds ticked by. As Tang Zhou descended, Qin Yun's gaze slowly shifted to the live stream frame—he could no longer see from his angle.

When Tang Zhou landed and touched the target, numbers instantly appeared on the distant giant screen.

"Spain Gwengiru Club, Owen Edwards, 2 cm from center."

"USA TEMU Club, Nathan Costello, 1 cm from center."

"…"

"China Changkong Club, Tang Zhou, 6 cm from center."

Seeing this result, Nie Jun and Jiang Shuangxing looked grim. Among the top twenty in the third small group, the current top five had an average distance of six centimeters—meaning Tang Zhou had already landed on the edge of elimination. Unless his next two jumps hit the bullseye perfectly, he was done.

But was that even possible?

Zeng Luo, however, remained calm. His entire hope rested on Qin Yun—he had no expectations for anyone else. After all, everyone practiced within the one-kilometer range, but this Red Bull Cup was extreme skydiving, with a four-kilometer semifinal and six-kilometer final after the preliminaries.

Don't count on Tang Zhou and the others.

"Six centimeters from center—what a pity. Hope his next two jumps are better."

Not long after, Tang Zhou's second and third jumps were revealed—clearly heavily affected by his first jump.

One was 10 cm from center; the other missed entirely.

No doubt—he was eliminated.

This made Chinese live stream viewers realize the gap: international elites could consistently maintain two-centimeter precision. Compared to them, Tang Zhou's gap was enormous.

In truth, for ordinary people watching the stream, it was hard to see the difference. Everyone landed on the foam pads, all appearing to hit the bullseye. Visually, they looked nearly identical. Without the electronic target sensors, no one could tell who was better.

Soon after, Fang Yichen followed Tang Zhou's fate.

Changkong Club had only five participants in precision skydiving; two were eliminated on the first day.

Originally, Zeng Luo's mood was fine, but the boss of another domestic club, Hurricane Club, came over to gloat.

"Hahaha, Xiao Zeng, we're lucky—so far one of ours is third in the group, very likely to advance to the semifinals."

Zeng Luo bowed slightly and offered a few congratulations.

But as soon as the man left, he spat: "Damn it, this bastard, showing off for what? Qin, I'm counting on you."

Qin Yun smiled, watching the man's retreating back, and asked curiously: "Do you have a grudge with him?"

"Not exactly a grudge—just business competitors."

Qin Yun understood. He now knew what Zeng Luo's family did—it was big business, manufacturing, supplying electronics both domestically and internationally; even Apple was one of their clients.

If they were competitors, then without doubt, they were in the same industry.

On the second day, You Jundu, as expected, was eliminated. Soon, time arrived at the third day of the preliminaries: May 21st.

Today there is a match between Qin Yun and Shu Han.

Shu Han is in Zone 2, Group 7, No. 28; Qin Yun is in Zone 3, Group 8, No. 43.

Due to the time difference, Qin Yun didn't rush to prepare; instead, he livestreamed Shu Han's parachute jump.

This girl with a baby face gave everyone a surprise.

Her first and second jumps were only one centimeter from the center point, and her third jump landed directly on the bullseye, achieving a total distance of two centimeters to become second in her group. Although over twenty others hadn't posted their scores yet, this result made it almost certain she would pass the preliminary round and advance to the semifinals.

When Shu Han returned, her smile never faded—she was clearly overjoyed.

"Great job!"

Qin Yun slapped hands with her.

"Qin Ye, it's your turn now."

Soon, Qin Yun's group began check-in: they were assigned helicopters, donned their gear, and boarded one by one.

Since the main drone couldn't be carried, he could only wear a sports camera—so long as the audio could be transmitted, it was fine.

"You're Qin?"

Suddenly, an Arabic voice came from behind. Qin Yun turned to see Sharu, from the Egyptian Pharaoh Club.

Qin Yun nodded: "Hello."

The man named Sharu stared at Qin Yun with a blank expression and said: "Wish you success on your parachute deployment—don't land as a meat paste."

Qin Yun's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the malice in his tone.

Recalling the man's nationality, Qin Yun instantly guessed the reason. He smiled faintly: "Thank you. Wish you success too."

At this moment, the cabin camera had been fixed on them; their conversation was naturally recorded.

Viewers in Qin Yun's livestream began speculating.

"Tsk tsk, I feel like I've figured something out."

"Obviously, it's because when you livestreamed over the Indian Ocean, Qin Ye wiped out those Egyptians."

"Haha, this guy's so arrogant, he better watch out—he'll get killed by Qin Ye."

"Qin Ye isn't afraid of armed militants—why would he fear a little nobody like you?"

"It's only peaceful now. In a war zone, Qin Ye would've killed you already."

At this moment, the drone was controlled by Su Huan. Before giving her control, Qin Yun had secretly told her what to do. Now that his plane had begun ascending, she immediately uploaded the prize contest he had pre-set.

"Hello everyone, I'm Su Huan. This is the prize contest Qin Ye asked me to set up—anyone with diamonds can place a bet. If you don't win, your diamonds won't be deducted; if you win, they'll be returned automatically at the odds."

"Wow, it's Sister-in-Law's voice—so sassy."

"Sister-in-Law is so beautiful—let us see your face!"

"Prize contest, let me check—the odds for advancing are 1.05 to 1, for elimination they're 10,000 to 1."

"Uh, I don't have much money, but I'll bet 100 diamonds on advancing."

"Those 10,000-to-1 odds look tempting, but the probability is practically zero."

"Heh heh, I bet one diamond on elimination."

Instantly, the number of participants surged straight up. If this weren't non-profit, the volume would've been enormous—enough to get someone reported for gambling.

In truth, this prize contest was simply Qin Yun's way of responding to his netizens.

"Look, Qin Ye is jumping."

"Holy shit, his speed is insane."

"Damn it, why hasn't he deployed his chute yet?"

"Seven hundred meters, six hundred meters—deployed."

"Extreme maneuver—Qin Ye is too good."

"Landed—what's the distance?"

"Hahaha, zero, perfectly centered on the target."

Qin Yun's performance was completely expected by him, but others didn't know. As his first and second jumps landed precisely on the bullseye, everyone's attention turned to him during his third jump.

The host and guest panelists flipped through Qin Yun's file, speaking excitedly.

"Jesus, deployed at six hundred meters—Qin is insane."

"So he's Qin—no wonder he's different."

Several guest panelists, male and female, all stared at Qin Yun with glittering eyes. Especially the women—they seemed to see through his clothes to his long, muscular physique, exclaiming "OMG!" nonstop.

Soon, Qin Yun's third jump landed—no surprises, effortlessly centered on the target. Three perfect jumps in a row, instantly topping his group, no doubt, advancing smoothly to the semifinals.

"Qin Ye, awesome!"

When Qin Yun returned, Zeng Luo was beside himself with excitement. Although Shu Han had also advanced, anyone could see she'd gotten lucky—she'd reached her limit and had almost no chance of passing the semifinals. But Qin Yun was different—he treated this two-kilometer precision jump like child's play.

What about four kilometers? What about six?

Thinking of the livestream title—"Precision Jump from Ten Thousand Meters"—it was clear he was certain to make the top three and earn a spot in the exhibition match.

Qin Yun patted his shoulder: "Calm down!"

Then he looked at Su Huan: "How much did I lose?"

Su Huan glanced at the prize contest summary and smiled: "A total of 150 million diamonds were bet on you advancing—you paid out 7.5 million diamonds."

Qin Yun looked at the drone, patted his chest, and sighed with relief: "Thanks for holding back, everyone—if not, I'd be bankrupt."