Ryan didn't sleep.
Not that he could, not with two thousand alien randos still spamming memes in the corner of his vision. Every time he closed his eyes, the chat blinked brighter, filled with laughter, bets, and emojis that looked like cursed hieroglyphs.
He lay flat on his back in the grass, staring at the purple-tinted sky. His shield had vanished, the lion-beast had vanished, but the System was still here.
It was watching him.
He groaned. "So this is it, huh? My afterlife is just Pitch but with permadeath?"
[UwU_Beast]: nah ur not dead, ur un Content Heaven <3
[Bloodaxe77]: shut up and fight smth already
[SpacePunk42]: bro about to cry lmao
"Yeah, thanks for the sympathy," Ryan muttered.
Then a ding ran in his head.
[Initiating Tutorial Phase.]
[Summoning Guide.]
Light sparked beside him. A glowing humanoid figure appeared, shimmering in blue, and disturbingly cheerful. It looked like a college mascot had fused with a PowerP template.
"Greetings, Contestant #112277!"
The avatar chirped in a voice two octaves too high. "I am your System Guide! You may call me… whatever you want! Most users prefer 'Clippy.'"
Ryan squinted. "...Like MS W Clippy? Bro, are you trolling me?"
The avatar beamed. "My purpose is to help you survive by optimizing your content for maximum viewership. Are you ready to begin your journey toward fame, fortune, and not being brutally eliminated?"
"Define 'eliminated.'"
The avatar didn't blink. "Permanent death. Soul deletion. Non-existence."
Ryan's mouth went dry. "... Right. Thought so."
The avatar clapped its glowing hands. A screen opened, showing three bars.
→ Viewers: 2,173
→ Subscribers: 2,034
→ Survivability Rating: 0.3/10
"Survivability rating??" Ryan snapped.
"Correct! Based on your lack of combat skills, your predicted lifespan is currently… hmm…"
The avatar made a ding noise. "Five minutes in standard battle conditions."
"FIVE MINUTES?!"
"Don't worry!" the avatar said brightly. "By entertaining your audience, you can unlock new skills and boosts. Your life now depends entirely on how many people enjoy watching you suffer."
Ryan dragged a hand down his face. "So I literally have to be a clown for aliens."
"Not just aliens! Entire galaxies, pantheons, dimensional lords! All of them can subscribe and donate! Oh, and if your viewership ever dropped to zero…"
Ryan cut him off. "Yeah yeah, auto-death. Got it. Gods."
[QueenOfTentacles]: lmaooo clown arc unlocked
[UwU_Beast]: nooooo don't be mean to him he's precious
[SpacePunk42]: nah she right, bozo energy
Ryan sat up, glaring at the floating chat. "I can see you assholes, you know."
The spam intensified.
*******
The avatar swiped its glowing hand, and a new notification appeared.
[Beginner Quests Assigned!]
→ Gain 5,000 Subscribers in 3 days.
→ Maintain minimum 6-hour daily broadcast.
→ Survive first week.]
[Rewards: Starter Loot Crate.]
[Failure: Termination.]
Ryan's jaw dropped. "FIVE THOUSAND subs? In three days? Bro, I couldn't even get five likes on my TukTuk!"
"Viewers love authenticity!" the avatar said. "Just be yourself. Or, alternatively, become a blood-soaked gladiator with a massive sword. Both options test well!'
"Yeah, slight problem, I don't have a sword. Or muscles. Or literally any training."
"Then lean into your niche!"
Ryan narrowed his eyes. "...What niche?"
The avatar sparkled. "Panic comedy."
Ryan buried his face in his hands.
"Alright," Ryan muttered after a long silence. "Show me what I'm up against. Who else is in this… League thing?"
"Of course!"
The avatar snapped, and floating holograms appeared like highlight reels.
First, a mountain of a man wielding dual axes, his armor dripping with gore. He roared as thousands of viewers spammed emotes. His subscriber count blinked: 1.2 million.
Ryan's stomach flipped.
Next, a sorceress on a cliff, hurling firestorms into an army below. Casual. Georgeus. Smirking as fireworks exploded behind her. Subs: 3.8 million.
Then, a beast-girl with cat ears giggling into a crystal mic, eating snacks while purring into the stream. Donations rained down in rainbow colors. Subs: 9.4 million.
Ryan just stared. "...You've gotta be shitting me."
"These are your peers!" the avatar said happily. "Don't worry, each audience enjoys different content niches. Perhaps yours will be… unique!"
[SpacePunk42]: nah he's dead lmao
[Bloodaxe77]: first blood speedrun incoming
[UwU_Beast]: noooo he's like… the underdog streamer I wanna protect <3
Ryan jabbed his middle finger at the chat. "You people only like me because I'm pathetic, huh?"
Spam: YES
Ryan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. If I'm gonna live, I need subs. What do you guys wanna see, huh? A storytime? ASMR? I can…uh…" He glanced at his tunic. "...jiggle my keys? That work for you degenerates?"
The chat went nuts.
[QueenOfTentacles]: KEYS KEYS KEYS
[UwU_Beast]: pls whisper into mic rn
[SpacePunk42]: bro do a mukbang
Ryan groaned. "This is so cursed."
Still, he leaned close, cupped his hand like a mic, and whispered. "Security report, 3 a.m… subject: me losing my goddamn mind."
The chat exploded with alien hearts.
[+300 Subscribers gained.]
Ryan blinked. "... Wait, that worked?"
"Yes!" the avatar said proudly. "Remember, entertainment equals survival!"
*******
Hours passed. Ryan tried dumb stunts, such as balancing on one leg, reenacting his death with exaggerated commentary, ranting about how much he hated instant noodles. The chat loved it. Subs ticked upwards, slowly but surely.
But with every laugh, every new sub, Ryan felt the pressure clamp down harder. This wasn't just fun, every viewer was oxygen to him, and every subscriber was another minute alive.
And if they got bored, he was done.
By the end of his "first stream," he had gained about 800 new subs. Still far from the 5,000 target.
He collapsed against the grass, drenched in sweat. "I can't… keep this up forever."
The avatar floated above him. "Correct! You'll need to balance your content with battle events. Quests are designed to push growth."
Ryan scowled. "Yeah, I've seen what happens in those battles. People DIE."
"Correction, contestants who fail to entertain die. Winners thrive."
[Bloodaxe77]: bet he dies next event lol
[SpacePunk42]: ngl tho he's kinda funny
[UwU_Beast]: he's MY funny boi stfu
Ryan gave the chat a tired glare. "You people are sick."
Right after he said that, the System dinged.
[Warning: New Battle Event Incoming.]
Ryan shot upright. "Wait wait wait, already? I just finished!"
A countdown appeared. 00:59… 00:58…
The avatar clapped cheerfully. "Time to test your growth! Don't worry, this will be a low-level encounter. Just survive, and your subs will skyrocket!"
Ryan's hands shook, and his stomach churned.
"Low-level, my ass," he muttered. "This is gonna be another murder lion, isn't it?"
The chat spammed hype emotes.
Ryan stared at the timer as it hit thirty seconds. His chest tightened, whispering to himself.
'Okay, CCTV guy. Pitch clown, panic content machine. This is my life now.'
The countdown ticked lower. Ten. Nine. Eight.
Ryan swallowed hard and forced a shaky smile. "Alright, chat. Let's fucking go."
The screen went white.