Chapter 861 - 731: Niche

In the era of smartphones, brand models are numerous, and fanboy wars are intense.

But in the pre-smartphone era, Nokia was the undisputed king, reigning as the world’s largest phone shipment leader for 14 consecutive years since 1998, with a market share once reaching 40%.

The 3310 model was a key contributor to Nokia’s peak success.

Physical buttons, long battery life, removable battery, and most importantly, durability and reliability.

Just how tough was it? Polycarbonate material paired with a curved case, resistant to dropping, crushing, dust, and water. It could crack walnuts, block bullets, be tied to a stick as a hammer, get run over by a truck and still function, and hold a charge after a month of inactivity.

It was aptly known as the AK47 of phones.

Clang!

A punch wrapped with Gang Qi, capable of easily penetrating C200 concrete, was firmly deflected by the tiny-button phone, causing a violent tremor through the wrist of the assailant, inducing sharp pain.

[Special Effect: Manual Power-on. Converts 60% of kinetic energy from external impact into temporary Spiritual Power, which depletes over time]

Temporary Spiritual Power surged through the body, causing Brother Ying’s bangs to flutter automatically without wind. In his left palm appeared a similarly retro Nikon SB-800 camera flash.

Pop—

The flash exploded with blinding light, covering the entire hall. The Voodooism Resurrected Corpses and Dead Spirit Grudge Souls fighting below instinctively bowed their heads, nearly reduced to ashes by the scorching light.

The White Horse Tombstone, enveloped in the light, had shut its eyes in an instant, yet was still dazzled, the retinas left with pure white, and the brain buzzing incessantly.

If it were any other Close Combat Extraordinary at this moment, the optimal solution would invariably be to quickly retreat, creating distance, and relying on the body’s strong recovery ability to shake off the dizziness before seizing the opportunity to strike.

But the White Horse Tombstone did not choose this action. She held her breath and concentrated, the tiny hairs on her arms capturing air currents, her heat-sensitive nerves observing external temperature changes,

In her mind, reconstructing a map of the whole hall and capturing a thermal image of Brother Ying as he stood at this moment.

In the next moment, the White Horse Tombstone seized the shield in Brother Ying’s hand with one hand, her fingertips piercing the steel plate, fixing the Nokia phone in place, and kicked Brother Ying in the chest with her leg.

"Phew!"

Brother Ying, hastily activating his data-form, was sent flying backward, spewing a torrent of green code from his mouth, hurriedly inserting a floppy disk drive into himself to repair the damage.

Sunset Melting Gold, Brother Ying, Gao Chenluoxing, and Black Trojan Horse were friends even before becoming players, forming their IDs after joining Whale Song Guild, collectively agreeing upon the nickname "Golden Armor and Iron Horse."

In this quartet, Black Trojan Horse excelled in data manipulation, Sunset Melting Gold specialized in Cyber Martial Arts,

while Brother Ying embraced his programmer inclinations, collecting classic electronic products from different eras and types, converting them into Extraordinary Items through a unique Power System called "Retro Fever."

Modern smartphones, cameras, neural interface game machines were beneath him,

but flip phones, film cameras, handheld gaming devices, and CD vinyl were what he pursued—despite being jestingly labeled as "junk collector," "niche guy," and "electronic hoarder" by his three friends.

The White Horse Tombstone propelled herself off beams and columns, shooting up like a missile, chasing Brother Ying.

Behind the data-formed body of Brother Ying, six arms extended, each holding a recorder from brands like Philips, Sony, and Panasonic, from which long, narrow brown-black magnetic tapes were ejected.

A mass of tapes descended like Spiderman’s web, encompassing the White Horse Tombstone.

The White Horse Tombstone, with her thermal perception and Qi lock, could "see" Brother Ying’s position, but couldn’t see the temperature-less tapes.

At the critical moment, Hansel, located on the ground, lifted his arms. The rings on his Power Exoskeleton’s arms spun to a halt, and the laser weapon kit unleashed a high-energy beam, cutting through the obstructing tape network in the air.

A hundred-meter distance meant nothing to a close combat expert. The White Horse Tombstone delivered a kick wrapped in Gang Qi, toppling the entire stone beam with a thunderous crash, embossing a massive shoe print.

She didn’t kick Brother Ying...

Frowning, the White Horse Tombstone slowly opened her eyes, recovering her sight to see Gao Chenluoxing, using an ungraceful princess carry, holding Brother Ying and appearing in a distant corner.

"Whew, managed to save him."

Gao Chenluoxing sighed in relief, setting Brother Ying down. Demon City incited greed; the gang relied entirely on coercive contracts to remain intact.

In Brother Ying’s possession was a high-power calculator, capable of comprehensively evaluating the value of each loot and individual contributions, ensuring fair distribution within the team, preventing internal conflict.

Gao Chenluoxing turned around, his original hoodie and pants shredded by the high-speed movement, revealing a precise cyborg body.

The prosthetic’s color scheme was mainly red-gold, complemented by silver-white. Its material was not purely mechanical like Prometheus’s "Gladiator" series of prosthetics,

but a combination of metal mechanics, high-strength ceramics, and polymer composites, offering both lightness and durability, with a fashionable appearance.

Gao Chenluoxing twisted his neck, his artificial eyes scanning the straight-standing, expressionless White Horse Tombstone. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the myriad magnetic tape content scattered in the air, casually teasing his friend, "Oh, Brother Ying, I thought you didn’t listen to modern pop music, so why are you playing ’Anxiety’ from 2025?"

"Shallow." Brother Ying replied with calmness: "The 2025 TikTok sensation ’Anxiety’ sampled the 2011 song ’Somebody That I Used to Know,’

and the latter sampled the guitar solo of Brazilian guitarist Luiz Bonfá from the 1960s,

so it still counts as old music."

"Damn, that’s niche."

The two chatted casually, seemingly disregarding their opponent—in fact, they truly did. Everyone was above Level 30, so the proverbial lone ranger was no match for a pack of wolves; numerical superiority was the ultimate advantage.

Moreover, the array sealing Space and Summoning system abilities was directly inscribed into the spatial structure through data manipulation by Brother Ying, not nullified by broken stained glass.

Pifu’s Light Speed Elbow Strike, Midnight Dad’s Reanimated Corpse Summoning, and Hansel’s Late Bell Mecha were severely impaired.

"Baa, baa—"

An ill-timed off-key sheep bleating suddenly echoed.

Apart from Wanli Sealed Blade, Ω, and Midnight who were entangled in battle, everyone’s gaze simultaneously shifted towards Li Cheng, who was holding up a phone, displaying a currently playing Peruvian song on the screen.

Li Cheng listened and solemnly said, "Can a guitar solo by a famous Brazilian musician be considered niche?

I have an alpaca bleating track recorded by a Peruvian farmer in the Andes Mountains, mixed in the inner shell of a rice cooker, with only 5 plays online, two of which are mine."

"...You really have nothing better to do." Wanli Sealed Blade instinctively retorted, "I’m curious if the remaining three plays were the Peruvian farmer and the two alpacas themselves."

Brother Ying, self-proclaimed niche guy, wore a grim expression, similarly taking out his phone, launching a music app, "This is the chicken crowing from a rural area of Chad’s West Kebi River in central Africa, set as my alarm recently, and it’s already lost media with one fewer play than yours."

"Still too mainstream,"

Li Cheng shook his head, switching to an enigmatic tick-tock buzzing, "This is a sonar ping from Belgorod, a nuclear submarine, sampled just last month, globally heard only by sonar operators aboard."

This level of niche weirdness could kill the competition,

however, Brother Ying, with a shifting expression, refused to admit defeat, likewise switching tracks, "This is the natural music I recorded last week in the Amazon Rainforest of the Script World, a field recording experimental album.

It includes cicadas chirping, mosquitoes buzzing, snakes slithering on branches, howler monkeys roaring, and distant lumber machines rumbling, spanning 1 hour and 40 minutes."

"Oh really,"

Li Cheng grinned, pulling out a roll of tape, "This is the cosmic microwave background radiation from the high orbit I sampled during my solo space excursion in the last London battle, unheard even by myself."

Then he pulled out a recorder, pressing the play button, calmly stating amid the buzzing sound, "Sealing Space and Summoning system abilities certainly harms me, but you seem to forget, in fact, I’m also part of the Close Combat."

Skin cracked, scales unfolded, horns sprouted from the crown, visage cloaked by Armor.

Insect Transformation Form, initiate.