Chapter 290: Next, Let Winston Tell Us!

The gold of WindyPeak and the red of Tensil Bulls swirl together, painting a dazzling ribbon across the sky.
The crowd below gasps in awe!
“There! There! I see it!”
“Oh my god, it’s so fast!”
“The speed’s on the big screen—holy crap, 152 kilometers per hour!”
“Heart rate’s only 130! Oh my god!”
“Total pro athlete! I’d be terrified!”
“Most wouldn’t dare this crazy stunt…”
“Route looks a bit off…”
“With plane inertia, it’s still heading for the net…”
“Will it work?”
…
Sweat beads on everyone’s brow!
Insane.
Vivid smoke trails weave a stunning sky show.
This death-defying feat electrifies every watcher!
Even those in the dark—
Like Matt Harper, who knew the plan, or Gus Harper, who masterminded it—can’t stop their palms from sweating!
Know this!
Today’s New Year’s Day.
A new year kicks off fresh starts, a vibe businesses and folks chase for smooth sailing and a killer year ahead.
Sure, it’s a tad superstitious, but it holds weight.
Golden Bull nailed it with the recent Soapbox Car Challenge.
That hilariously abstract race hooked viewers fast.
Whether it was WindyPeak’s gaming crowd or Tensil Bulls’ biz crew,
the Golden Bull Challenge already scored big.
Thousands showed up, over a million hit Twitch, and Shark’s stream spiked to 200 million views.
Laughter and hype ruled, with both brands’ logos burning into minds.
Key? “Golden Bull Challenge” went viral, setting the stage for future extreme gigs.
For WindyPeak and Tensil, that $16 million spend? Worth every cent.
But Gus’s sights are way bigger.
Amid the laughs, he rolled out another plane, a fearless fighter, and launched a sky conquest.
Undeniably—
A mad gamble, all or nothing!
If Ike Garcia flops—
All the fun, joy, and hype? Poof—gone in a flash!
The good vibes shatter, future events tank, and that $16 million? Not just a bust—it’d torch both brands’ rep!
Sponsorship suicide.
No company wants that stain.
But!
If it pulls off…
Gus’s brow twitches, eyes blazing with hype.
He can’t even fathom the rep boost if this lands!
‘Cause right now…
This never-seen-before stunt’s pulling a global frenzy—233 countries and regions glued to the stream!
‘Oh my god… Golden Bull’s ballsy enough to back this…’
‘God bless him!’
‘If it works, will Golden Bull bankroll more stunts?’
‘This is straight-up death-wishing, right?’
‘My buddy called this a prank? Not laughing—my palms are soaked…’
‘Oh man, it’s picking up speed…’
‘Just watching chokes me up.’
‘Wait—what? Not a game screen? Not a game?!’
‘Sister Goose! Oh my god! Oh my god!’
…
The audience swells!
This gaming-beverage collab’s blowing up, busting through the noise!
Who can resist a life-on-the-line “no-chute” drop?
Whoosh! !!!
Now!
Up top, Ike Garcia nears low altitude!
Cutting through misty clouds, windproof goggles on, his face near-frozen by the brutal wind.
Around him, two skydiving instructors and a photog drift away.
To dodge chute tangles and airflow chaos, they space out, maximizing distance.
Once clear, whoosh—their chutes pop, giant bull logos gleaming as they float down, watched by the world.
Ike, arrow-straight, drags a dazzling golden trail!
“Seven hundred meters! One hundred eighty-seven kilometers per hour!”
Host Joe’s voice quivers!
“The final ten seconds of the drop!”
“The peak of extreme sports!”
“An insane, never-done-before challenge!”
“A death duel!”
“Ike Garcia—”
Every eye, live or streamed, holds its breath.
A little girl on tiptoes licks her lollipop, her dog clinging tight.
A chubby kid’s pickles spill from his burger.
A office lady, coffee in hand, forgets to grab her cup.
A dude on the john grips his TP hard.
In the vast sky, Ike Garcia floats like a tiny bug, golden smoke tailing him.
Then, the feed switches—
A drone’s bird’s-eye view hits the screen.
Like a comet, Ike rockets toward the net at 190 km/h.
And then—
The net’s suspenseful pattern unfolds!
Amid the tough black weave, a bold orange-white circle pops!
Center? A hand-clap symbol inside the ring.
Below, nine caps spell—
“OVER WATCH.”
Next moment!
Under two million global gazes!
A golden streak rips the sky!
Smacks dead-center into the Overwatch-netted trap!
BOOM! !!!
The place goes nuclear!
Over the Baltic, the Overwatch-logoed net sags. Ike rips off his helmet, tears streaming!
Med choppers swirl like a victory lap!
Seventh Avenue turns a screaming sea!
Joe’s voice, raw with thrill—
“I declare!”
“Ike Garcia—7,620-meter no-chute drop!”
“Challenge!”
“Success—!!!”
Buzz! !!!
Post-Joe’s call, the crowd roars, whistles and screams rocking the joint!
This self-surpassing, limit-pushing feat sends everyone into a frenzy.
New Year’s Day gets a dazzling, diamond-sharp exclamation!
Insanity!
Pure insanity!
The hype from Seventh Avenue floods the stream, global fans cheering wild!
Soon,
today’s star, history-maker Ike Garcia, struts into the venue.
From 7,620 meters to earth, unscathed, he’s back.
“…Got anything to say?”
Joe hands him the mic.
“Totally! Totally!”
Ike’s still buzzing—breaths rapid, emerald eyes blazing with wild excitement.
“First, huge thanks to Golden Bull for backing this. Before, investors bolted at my pitch…”
Laughter ripples the crowd.
Ike rolls on,
“Also, props to Octane. I’m a fan. His Summit Nation stunts fired me up for this.”
He raises a hand, cat-ear gesture up.
“Shoutout to Catman. His life vibe helped me nail this.”
“The human spirit’s glow keeps shining.”
“I hope we all stay positive, tough, and relentless challengers…”
The interview’s electric—
buzz—buzz—
Every Ike word pulls thunderous claps.
His raw energy and life-death grit move, thrill, and ignite everyone.
Then Matt Harper speaks, followed by Gus’s closing.
Gus’s? No surprise—he’s a charisma wizard.
Octane and Ike, his top talents, inspired by him, hooked by his vibe, joined this laugh-packed epic.
As expected—
Applause rains down.
But!
All this?
To Zoey Parker, it’s just noise.
Her eyes lock on the giant screen.
Helicopter feed streams in nonstop.
That massive Overwatch logo, a side screen, dominates the prime spot, teasing the crowd.
What’s this logo?
What’s “OVERWATCH” mean?
Zoey catches the onlookers’ buzz about it.
Even foreigners are curious.
No brainer—
Comments fly—
‘New game! New game, peeps! Holy crap! WindyPeak’s drop!’
‘Gift Crab! Revealed like this! So dope!’
‘What’s the genre? Extreme sports game?’
‘Maybe? Tied to Ike’s stunt.’
‘Nah. Gus never drops two same-type games back-to-back.’
‘Horror game?’
‘I’m betting shooter.’
‘Holy crap! FPS from GW? I’m buying all copies!’
‘Logo alone tells nada!’
‘Ahhhhhhhhhh, I’m dying of hype!’
‘Report—I scoured Gus’s Twitter and Weibo, zilch on Overwatch.’
‘Keep digging, update us!’
‘Any trailer? Even concept art!’
‘I’m starving! Need Overwatch news (darkly crawling…)’
‘Pigeon stomps a polo, turtle hauls a barbershop.’
‘Wanna play… Overwatch… (Overwatch fever)’
‘What the heck is it… Ahhhhhhhh…’
…
Fans speculate, go wild, debate hot!
Zoey’s uneasy.
Zoey’s terrified.
Zoey’s on edge!
Bad! Bad!
Her gaze trembles at the Overwatch logo. With a mix of dread and doom, she eyes Gus, fresh off his speech, vowing Golden Bulls’ future extreme sports push!
Amid deafening cheers, Gus hands the mic to Joe and shoots her a smile—!
Gah!
Zoey nearly faints.
Old Gus never fires blanks.
That lavish logo splash, global-scale, means he’s not stopping at a tease.
“Big bro… please…”
Zoey bites her lip, eyes pleading—hope mixed with her own disbelief, pure despair.
Killing’s not enough—you’re landing this.
Two million worldwide saw it—the logo’s hype’s already gold.
We don’t need to…
But—
Before she can think more,
Joe, mic in hand, says:
“I bet, like me, you’re not just awed by Ike’s guts or cheering him—
you’re dying to know about that hero-holding net.”
“OVER—WATCH!”
“What’s it? What’s it mean?”
The crowd gasps!
Stream views spike, not dip!
All are hooked!
Next beat, Joe gestures to the screen:
“Now, let Winston tell us!!!”