LRAB Page 342
Page 342
"I am the strongest angel! How could I possibly fawn over those mortals? Even if you kill me, I would never do such a thing!" His words were filled with unwavering determination.
In this regard.
Ian was prepared.
"God wants you to love the world. Don't even think about returning to Heaven until you learn that," Ian suddenly said seriously, his figure shining even brighter in Michael's eyes.
"..."
The air suddenly solidified.
Michael's expression shifted from fury to surprise and doubt to struggle, finally settling on a state of extreme inner turmoil.
"Can you communicate with Him?"
This was something Michael couldn't help but suspect, after all, the glory surrounding Ian couldn't be faked. Even so, the archangel's voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
“God loves our family, and He even gave my older brother a gift.”
Ian gave an irrelevant answer.
Michael's cleverness backfired.
“What you said is true.” Michael’s pupils dilated in shock. He could tell it was true, of course, but he had completely misunderstood and been led astray by Ian’s half-truths.
I spent a long time agonizing over it again.
His performance proved that Wang Jingze still has value even in heaven.
"how should I do?"
The archangel slowly straightened his body.
The broken microwave oven crashed to the ground.
"follow me!"
Next, Ian took him to the live-streaming studio next door. The live-streaming studio was Ian's proudest renovation; he had turned the original poison purification room into twenty pink-themed live-streaming rooms.
Each card is equipped with a beauty light and a teleprompter. As the archangel, Michael was taken to the largest room, where the wallpaper was a Vatican-style cloud mural.
A plastic Holy Grail was placed in the corner.
"Your target audience is women aged 45-65."
Ian pulled up a collection of elderly internet celebrities.
"You have to be both domineering and greasy, like this—give a crooked smile to the camera, say nothing, and just straighten your clothes." His understanding of the live streaming industry is deeper than Madison's.
"You want me to imitate that damn thing? He deserves to go to hell."
Michael's face turned green.
"Imagine heaven~"
Ian waved the "Employee Handbook" in his hand.
"Think of the hymns~ Think of your empty throne~"
He had grasped the other party's weakness, and those words struck Michael's heart like a heavy hammer.
The archangel was stunned.
A flicker of pain and resentment crossed his eyes.
"Damn it! Why you?!"
Michael's expression changed repeatedly.
“I’ll teach you some simple lines now. For example, you can start by saying, ‘Babies, your man is back.’” Ian watched as Michael’s psychological defenses were breached time and time again.
He also began teaching.
"and then?"
Michael looked disgusted, but he still took notes carefully.
"And remember to add some interaction," Ian added with a smile. "For example: 'Any of you ladies feel that your husbands have been distant lately? Then you should pay attention. Men crave novelty. Remember this: the more aloof a man is, the more he loves you.'" Of course, these things are no challenge for Ian, a writer.
Michael's expression was extremely complicated after hearing this.
Three hours later.
He sat down in front of the camera, took a deep breath, and began his first live broadcast.
"Dear...sisters," he said stiffly, "I am the angel Michael. Today I'd like to talk to you about life, and about my past glory and my current downfall."
Although he wasn't very skilled yet, Ian had high expectations for him, so he bought a lot of traffic, and as soon as the screen lit up, the number of viewers in the live stream began to soar.
Ian looked at the data panel and nodded in satisfaction.
"Very good!" He patted Michael on the shoulder. "Your talent in this field far surpasses your talent for screwing in screws!"
Michael's lips twitched, but he forced himself to continue the live stream. His suppressed anger, inward disdain, yet forced flattery was surprisingly popular.
Just as Ian was about to say a few more manipulative things, his phone vibrated again.
It's policewoman Kate Beckett.
He stepped out of the live broadcast room and answered the phone.
Only Michael the parrot remained in the room, mimicking the sounds of the live stream.
He has really good looks.
“Thank God for the rocket.” Michael read from the teleprompter with a straight face, wearing the floral shirt that Ian had forced him to wear.
The barrage exploded instantly:
[Lord Michael is so cute! This name is so cringeworthy!]
This awkwardness reminds me of my husband when he was young.
[Lord Michael, quickly dance to Gokuraku Jodo! The one adapted by Ian Kent!]
The last person to leave this comment spammed "Fantasy Castle" 1000 times, causing the live stream to lag like a slideshow. Michael's temples bulged with veins, but remembering Heaven and Ian's points, he forced a twisted smile.
"Thank you, friend. I'll learn right away. I'll watch the video to see how to dance."
The employee points earned from these thousand fantasy castles are equivalent to tightening screws for hundreds of days. Michael, of course, had to endure the humiliation and bear the burden. He felt that his glory was also being restored—dancing was not a difficult thing for angels.
Michael's learning ability is indeed quite good.
and so.
He longed to return to heaven as soon as possible.
They had to grit their teeth and learn as they went.
The data panel shows that Michael's live stream retention rate is as high as 85%.
The amount of tips received has exceeded the canned food department's output value for three days.
really.
To make money, you still have to do live streaming.
The tycoon has struck again.
Another 1000 fantasy castles have been built.
[Haha, Michael! I recorded the whole thing!]
[Starting tomorrow, the must-see project for everyone in Hell will begin! Don't ask who I am! Every corner of the live stream is filled with my alternate accounts; you can't ban them all! Look, I've used my divine power to create another 100,000 alternate accounts to visit you!]
Oh, sorry, I forgot you've lost your divine powers, hahaha~
Several comments were posted in the bullet screen that required a lot of money and would be visible across the entire website.
Chapter 155 God and Ian the Ordinary Citizen
Ian may have a form called the "Red Sun".
However, his Red Temperature level was clearly inferior to that of the current [Red Temperature Heavenly Kingdom Vice-Lord]. Given the other party's blatant blatantness, how could Michael, with his boundless wisdom, not guess who the tycoon was?
"Oh!"
He smashed the computer monitor through with a single punch. Just a second before Michael's fist touched the screen, the live stream chat was still displaying the terrifying message: "[The angel is wiggling his butt]".
With a bang.
The curved screen, worth thousands of dollars, exploded into a shower of chips under his fist.
The flying glass shards cut his palm. However, despite the fact that he was bleeding, Michael ignored it and began smashing things up in the live stream.
"Damn it! Damn bastard!" Within a minute, Michael's expression gradually changed from confusion and irritation to utter rage.
He lacked life experience and actually disassembled the computer host with an electrified hand. Before he could catch his breath, the host short-circuited and emitted a burnt smell.
Immediately afterwards, a current surged through his arm and up his entire body, causing Michael to convulse violently and let out a slightly heart-wrenching scream, like a rich woman's heartache.
"Ah ah ah ah ah!"
Two thousand years later, the Archangel tasted the pain of mortals once more—his feathers bristled, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud like a peacock struck by lightning. His body convulsed, his hair steaming, but this wasn't the worst of it. Michael found that words were appearing before his blurred vision once more.
【Even if your computer breaks down, I can still see you. See my divine power? Are you envious? Envious is useless! Hahahaha!】 The last paragraph even played a realistic voice.
"Ughhhhhh—!"
This time it wasn't a scream.
Michael's voice was filled with humiliation, much like a groundhog roaring at thin air. The voice was incredibly long and full of emotion, making the factory ceiling tremble slightly.
"Da da da~"
Hurried footsteps came from outside the door.
Hearing the commotion, a white angel who was livestreaming next door rushed over to check on Archangel Michael.
"Your Excellency, are you alright?" The live-streaming angel's hands were trembling when she saw Michael's disheveled appearance, and she almost dropped the selfie stick she was still holding.
"Of course I'm fine! What could possibly happen to me?" Michael struggled to sit up, a trace of saliva from the electric shock still clinging to the corner of his mouth, but he still tried to maintain his dignified image.
"Just ran into a little trouble." He tried to make it sound like he had just experienced a restricted live stream, rather than nearly being defeated by a broken machine made by humans.
Of course, despite his best efforts to cover up the truth, his face, which had turned from red to green, was still very ugly, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that he almost broke his molars.