By the fifth morning, hunger had teeth.
Not sharp enough to kill yet—
just sharp enough to make people irrational.
The Smell That Starts a Riot
It began quietly.
A thin ribbon of scent drifting downhill.
Cooked protein.
Warm.
Real.
Heads lifted.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence.
Someone swallowed audibly.
💬 [LiveWatcher]: Oh no. Someone is COOKING again.
The drones followed the smell like bloodhounds.
Straight to Aria.
Supply Is Visible Now
She sat by her fire, fish skewered neatly over coals.
Not sizzling loudly.
Not flaring.
Controlled heat.
Controlled portion.
She turned it once.
That was all.
The cameraman didn't ask anything this time.
He already knew.
The Crowd Gathers (Unintentionally)
People drifted closer.
Not a mob.
A gravity well.
They stood just outside her camp boundary, pretending not to stare.
One finally spoke.
"…Are you selling?"
Aria looked up.
Checked the fish.
Checked the number of people.
"…Yes."
The word was calm.
Predictable.
The question followed, inevitable.
"…How much?"
"…Five hundred."
Laughter First
Someone laughed.
Too loudly.
"Five hundred? For one fish?"
Another shook his head.
"That's robbery."
Aria didn't respond.
She turned the fish again.
The laughter died faster than it started.
Hunger Changes Tone
Minutes passed.
No one left.
The smell intensified.
One contestant rubbed his stomach unconsciously.
Another whispered:
"We could split it."
A third said nothing.
Just stared.
The chat felt the shift.
💬 [NatureFan]: They're negotiating with themselves now
💬 [InvestorBro]: THIS is price discovery
The First Buyer Breaks
"I'll take it."
The words came out rough.
The speaker didn't look proud.
He looked relieved.
Credits transferred.
Aria handed him the fish.
"…Eat slowly," she said.
The man nodded.
Hands shaking.
The Reaction Is Immediate
Silence.
Then—
Someone exhaled sharply.
Another cursed under their breath.
The buyer took a bite.
Closed his eyes.
Didn't share.
The chat exploded.
💬 [NatureFan]: IS SHE… SELLING A FISH FOR $500?!
💬 [InvestorBro]: Capitalism wins again.
💬 [Fan101]: He didn't even argue. He just PAID.
The Rule Is Set
Aria cleaned the skewer.
"…No credit," she said calmly.
"…No bargaining."
She didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
"…Tomorrow," she added,
"…the price increases."
The crowd stiffened.
Someone whispered:
"She's serious."
Yes.
She was.
Producers Feel the Burn
In the control tent, numbers flashed.
Transactions logged.
Spending spiked.
A producer muttered:
"This is going to blow our budget."
The director replied calmly:
"It's already blown."
Closing Beat
As the crowd dispersed—some fed, some angry, some calculating—Aria sat back down.
She ate her portion.
Drank water.
Reset her trap.
"…Hunger clarifies values," she murmured.
Above her, drones hovered.
Below her, people recalculated everything they thought they knew about fairness.
And somewhere in the chat, a new consensus formed:
This wasn't exploitation.
This was inevitability.