It was coming from a narrow alleyway to my right.
My human, survival-based instinct screamed at me to keep walking. You don't walk into dark alleys. That's how you get kidnapped, or in this world, probably eaten by a slime disguised as a trash can.
But then my streamer brain kicked in.
Content.
I peeked around the corner, trying to be stealthy, which is hard when you're wearing sweatpants and followed by a floating bowling ball.
About twenty feet into the alley, three figures were cornering a petite fourth.
The three aggressors were Orcs. But not the barbaric, loincloth-wearing Orcs from the movies. These guys were dressed like bouncers at a dive bar. Leather jackets, chains, combat boots. They were massive, green, and possessed tusks that looked like they required serious insurance.
The victim was an Elf. He, I think it was a he, though he was very pretty, was pressed up against the brick wall.
He looked young, maybe a teenager in Elf years, which could be anywhere from 18 to 80, I guess. He was wearing a hoodie that was two sizes too big and clutching a backpack to his chest.
"Come on, pointy," one of the Orcs growled. His voice sounded like gravel in a blender. "You know the toll. This is our street."
"I... I paid last week," the Elf stammered. His voice was trembling with fear.
"Inflation," the Orc grinned, leaning in. "Price of spire went up. Hand over the bag."
The second Orc laughed, a deep, disgusting sound. "Yeah, or we smash that pretty little body of yours."
I looked closer. The Elf had a camera too, a tiny, fragile-looking glass marble hovering near his shoulder. It was blinking red, signalling low battery or damage.
This was the classic bullying trope. I pulled back behind the corner, my heart beating fast with excitement.
"Okay, Silas," I whispered to myself.
"Option A: Run away, find a shelter, live a long, boring life as a dishwasher. Option B: Go in there."
My sphere seems to be waiting for this.
"If I go in there, I die," I made a valid point. "I have no power and magic except a trauma."
But then I remembered the System prompt. The bigger the spectacle, the bigger the rewards.
Those other streamers, the satyr, the vampire, were playing safe. Nobody watches a stream to see someone be safe. They watch to see something happen.
"System," I hissed. "If I turn this on, does it broadcast to the whole world?"
[Affirmative. The Omniscient Lens connects to the Global Network.]
[Algorithmic boost available for First Broadcast.]
"Algorithmic boost," I repeated.
I took a deep breath before killing myself.
"Alright," I said, smoothing down my wrinkled t-shirt. "Let's do it for the vine, or whatever the hell they say here."
I stepped out from behind the corner, right into the entrance of the alley.
"Hey!" I shouted, my voice cracking slightly before I found my lower register. "Gentlemen! And I use that term rarely!"
The three Orcs turned slowly.
Six yellow eyes locked onto me. The Elf guy peeked out from behind a massive green bicep, looking confused.
"Who the hell are you?" the lead Orc barked, squinting at me.
"You lost, little human?"
"Not lost," I said, forcing a grin that I hoped looked confident and not like I was about to wet myself.
I raised a finger and pointed at the black sphere hovering beside my head.
"Showtime," I whispered.
"Start the stream."
The black sphere literally woke up. With a wet, organic sound that made my skin crawl, the shell split down the middle.
It didn't reveal a lens or a sensor but an eye. A large, glowing, electric-blue iris that swivelled frantically before locking onto me.
[STREAM STARTING...]
[Views: 0]
"What is that?" The lead Orc paused, his fist halfway to his other palm. He squinted at my floating eyeball. "That ain't a Crystal-Cam. Looks like some divine magic or something."
"Nah, look at it," the second Orc scoffed, spitting on the pavement. "No branding. No gold trim. It's definitely a knock-off. Bet this loser has negative viewers. Probably streaming to his grandma."
"Hey!" I shouted, offended on behalf of my grandma. "My grandma has excellent taste in content!"
The lead Orc cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like gunshots in the narrow alley. "Let's smash it first. Then him."
He stepped forward, raising a fist the size of a honey-baked ham. This was it. I was going to die. I was going to be a smudge on the pavement before I even got my first subscriber.
But then, the number in the air flickered.
[Views: 1]
[Views: 5]
[Views: 103...]
The algorithmic boost. It was force-feeding my feed to random people. I had to keep them watching.
I dismissed the Orc completely. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, like ignoring a grizzly bear in a phone booth, but I pivoted on my heel and turned my back to him.
"WHAT IS UP, EVERYBODY!" I screamed, channelling every high-energy, caffeine-addicted YouTuber I'd ever watched.
I pointed both finger guns at the floating eye. "Welcome to the first voyage of SD Live! We are coming to you live from... uh... this creepy alleyway!"
Sidestepped just as the Orc's fist whooshed past my ear, the wind of it messing up my hair.
"Whoa! Interactive environment!" I yelled, grinning maniacally at the camera.
"Today, we have a very special episode. We're doing a deep dive into local socio-economics! Specifically: Extortion!"
I shoved my face, and the camera right next to the trembling Elf.
The Orc stumbled, confused that he'd missed, and turned around, bewildered by my lack of survival instinct.