Chapter 138: What Kind of 'Friendship' and 'Bonds' Is This? So Confusing! [Monthly Ticket Bonus Chapter]

Why was Chen Kong chosen as the protagonist of Stellar Prodigy?

At first, many Dimensional Audiences struggled to understand.

Among the 36 Stellar Prodigies, Tian Dao was undeniably overpowered—like cheating the system.

Chen Xing possessed both elite combat talent and the mental fortitude of a true warrior.

Jing Ruli’s talent was so absurdly divine it felt like fate was personally spoon-feeding her success.

Kalolin’s rationality and calmness far surpassed everyone else’s.

And where did Chen Kong stand among them?

He wasn’t just the weakest in terms of power—he was, by all accounts, the weakest in spirit too.

Timid. Insecure. Hesitant.

For a long time, he became the punchline of every joke in the live commentary.

Many viewers openly mocked, “It’s only because of this protagonist that Stellar Prodigy’s reputation is dragged down.”

Even in direct comparison to Tian Dao, some audiences flooded the chat with “Change the protagonist!”—a cry that echoed through the digital void.

But everything changed during the Deep Blue Capital arc.

That’s when Chen Kong finally proved, through action, why he deserved the spotlight.

Faced with Rongshan’s life-or-death ultimatum, the boy who had always cowered in fear—now, to everyone’s astonishment—charged into the inferno without hesitation, choosing the path of a martyr to save ordinary people trapped in flames.

Yes, Chen Kong the protagonist had flaws—many of them.

But buried deep beneath his insecurities and doubts was a light so radiant, it outshone every shortcoming.

That light?

It was his sacrificial spirit.

Fear of death. Dread of hardship. These were instincts written into every human soul.

But how many people truly lived beyond those instincts?

How many could truly disregard their own lives when the world was collapsing?

To move forward—to fight against the tide—required more courage than simply fleeing.

And Chen Kong?

He carried that courage.

He’d carried it all along.

Even now, still unwavering.

Yes, risking his life for Vivian—someone he’d only known for days—was reckless.

Utterly foolish.

But when it came from Chen Kong?

It felt perfectly natural.

Because this was the same man who, back then, had once thrown himself into danger for strangers—just to give them a chance at a brighter future.

So why wouldn’t he do it again?

Even if this time, the odds were stacked against him.

Even if the game was rigged from the start.

“If your body reaches its limit, let your will carry you through! Go, Chen Kong! Show him who’s truly the protagonist beneath this starry sky!”

> “Even the faintest candlelight can still pierce the darkness.”

> “Those who carry fire for others must not be left to freeze in the storm!”

In the eyes of the Dimensional Audience, Chen Kong rose once more.

His black gun leveled at Tian Dao.

Seeing this, Tian Dao’s deep eyes flickered—just once.

Liu Ma’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

Vivian’s expression twisted like shattered stardust—shocked, reevaluating Chen Kong entirely.

Amid the storm of emotions, Chen Kong spoke, his voice clear and unshaken.

“I know I could stay silent.

I know I could walk away.

I could save myself, just for a moment of peace.”

“But…”

He gripped the black gun tighter.

In his mind, the memory surfaced—the blue-eyed boy from Central Council, laughing as he stepped in to defend him when the other Stellar Prodigies bullied him as a child.

“Only those who’ve been drenched in rain understand how cold it truly is.”

“Only those who’ve been sheltered know how warm the world under the umbrella can be.”

As he spoke, his presence surged—visible, overwhelming.

On his brow, the mark of Stellar Core Awakening began to glow—the Stellar Mark.

“Today, if I look away…

Then when disaster comes for me…

No one will raise their voice in my defense.”

“So…

If you want to take her…

You’ll have to step over my corpse first.”

Hearing those words, Vivian—already resigned to surrender—trembled violently.

And Liu Ma, previously crushed under Tian Dao’s Captain-Level Pressure, suddenly broke free with a roar.

His spine straightened, muscles swelling beneath his torn shirt.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Liu Ma ripped open his prized suit, letting his massive frame burst through the fabric.

He grinned at Chen Kong.

“Kong, I’ll admit… I underestimated you.”

“You’re way more interesting than I thought.”

With that, he turned to Vivian, standing beside Tian Dao, and flashed a bright, sunlit smile.

“Hey, Kong’s already made his choice.

How long are you gonna stay silent?”

“I doubt your knight’s code lets you watch someone die for you without a fight.”

Vivian paused.

Silence.

Then—she stepped back from Tian Dao.

Her hand snapped to the Second-Hand Dagger—the blade gleamed silver in the dim underground light, like moonlight on water.

“Indeed. A true knight does not pass their duty onto innocent bystanders.”

“I still stand by my belief—no easy retreat.”

“But this time…

I won’t surrender without a fight.”

With Vivian’s resolve shifting, and Liu Ma freed from Tian Dao’s grip, the battlefield transformed.

From a one-on-one duel between Chen Kong and Tian Dao—

to a righteous 3 vs 1.

And at that moment, the background music surged into its final crescendo.

Feeling the tide turning, Liu Ma raised his chin at Tian Dao, laughing.

“Hey, Captain—don’t you dare underestimate the friendship between Stellar Prodigies!”

“Don’t ignore our bonds!”

He launched forward like a cannonball, golden fists screaming through the air, aiming straight for Tian Dao’s face.

Simultaneously, Vivian became a streak of silver lightning—her blade slicing toward Tian Dao’s hand, the one gripping the Shattering Star.

Then—suddenly—the camera slowed.

In that frozen moment, the audience saw:

Liu Ma’s wild grin.

Vivian’s unyielding eyes.

And Tian Dao—his lips curling into the faintest, almost imperceptible smirk.

Of course.

Every time the moment came—when the protagonist’s Central Council shouted about friendship, about bonds, about rising again—the tide turned.

It sounded cliché.

Over-the-top.

Like something from a middle-school drama.

But Tian Dao had to admit—Chen Kong’s words were powerful.

Because unlike so many protagonists who only talked the talk…

Chen Kong walked the walk.

No double standards.

No moral blackmail.

He meant every word.

And he’d follow through—no matter the cost.

But here’s the catch:

Saying it… and doing it…

That’s not enough.

Because between doing it and achieving it…

Lies a chasm called ability.

And even if Tian Dao wasn’t showing his full strength right now…

He could still crush this entire group of young, raw prodigies with one hand.

You still don’t stand a chance, Kong.

Not with just your 'friends' by your side.

BANG!

Time snapped back to normal.

Dark ink erupted from Tian Dao’s feet—spreading like a living barrier, wrapping around him.

Liu Ma’s punch hit it like striking cotton—absorbed.

Vivian’s blade met the same fate—deflected effortlessly.

In the instant the barrier shattered—

dozens of black arrows shot out in a storm, engulfing Liu Ma and Vivian.

Liu Ma raised his arms, bracing.

Vivian instantly switched to her Hour-Hand Heavy Sword, deploying the Reverse Barrier in a flash.

While they were pushed back, the camera cut to the side—where Dannika sat on a chair, munching from a snack bag.

She watched Tian Dao, calm and unbothered despite being surrounded.

With a tiny, sweet voice, she whispered:

“Shuimo… is having so much fun.”

Then she popped another chip into her mouth—crunch, crunch—the sound sharp and clear in the tense silence.

To her, this wasn’t a life-or-death battle.

It was just a game—like catching butterflies.

Because she knew, better than anyone, just how strong Shuimo truly was.

These three?

Even if there were ten times as many…

They wouldn’t even scratch him.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end