I spent a solid five minutes just poking the floating black ball.
It just bobbed there like a loyal, mute balloon with an expensive paint job. It was creepy, intrusive, and honestly, the highest-quality piece of tech I had ever owned.
Back home, my webcam was held together by duct tape and a prayer from the gods. This thing looked like it was designed by a minimalist architect with an unlimited budget and a hatred for buttons.
"So," I whispered, glancing around to make sure the four-armed business tycoon wasn't watching me talk to an orb. "I stream, people donate, I get superpowers. Is that the gist? Blink once for yes."
The lens dilated slightly, like a cat's eyes adjusting to the dark.
"I'll take that as a yes."
I needed a game plan now.
In my old life, 'game plan' usually meant ordering pizza and hoping an idea would fall out of the pepperoni grease. Here, with no money, no apartment, and a floating eye following me, I needed to figure out the meta.
Every game has a cheat, the most efficient way to win. If this world were a game, I was currently the level one NPC punching rats in the basement.
I started walking slowly. The shock of being in a new dimension was slowly wearing off, replaced by the much more pressing anxiety of being broke and unemployed in a city where the pigeons probably breathed fire.
As I moved down the crowded thoroughfare, I started noticing details I'd missed in my initial panic. I wasn't the only one with a floating camera. In fact, it seemed like half the population had one.
A guy with goat legs, a satyr, I guess, though he was wearing cargo shorts and a tee that said 'I'm with Stupid' with an arrow pointing to a hydra, was walking backwards, talking animatedly into a bronze sphere. His camera looked bad, vibrating and puffing out little clouds of steam like an engine.
"What's up, herd!" the satyr shouted, doing a little hoof-tap dance.
"Today we're trying the new ambrosia latte at Zeus Juice! Don't forget to smash that like button!"
I let out a laugh. It was exactly like Earth, just with more fur.
Further down the block, I saw a group of teenagers, some human, others with blue skin and fins, huddled around a floating crystal that acted as their camera.
They were doing some kind of synchronised dance, probably for a thirty-second clip. The crystal was glitching, flashing red and green, looking like a cheap knock-off you'd buy at a gas station.
I looked at my own sphere. It was stable. It slid through the air with zero friction. I think mine was the most expensive one. Or maybe something illegal.
It didn't have a brand name stamped on the side, no 'iOrb' or 'Samsung Galaxy Sphere.' Just a smooth, black screen.
"Okay," I muttered, feeling a tiny spark of pride. "At least my gear is top tier. Now, what do I actually do?"
I watched the competition.
That was rule number one of content creation: see what's trending.
I passed a park where the trees had leaves made of purple glass. On a bench, a vampire, pale, brooding, wearing sunglasses despite the fact that there was no sun, was sitting next to a werewolf girl.
They were leaning in close, their respective cameras spinning them in a soft, romantic filter.
"I just don't know if our families will understand," the vampire sighed, making sure his jawline was catching the light perfectly.
"We'll make them understand, Vlad," the werewolf girl whispered, tearing up on cue.
A live romance drama.
I checked the air above their cameras. Faint, holographic numbers floated there, visible to anyone who looked closely.
Viewers: 12,400.
"Gross," I said under my breath. "And fake. Look at his body language. He's clearly looking at the donation count, not her eyes."
I kept walking.
There was a restaurant with outdoor seating. A massive troll was sitting at a reinforced table, gulping entire roast chickens into his mouth. His camera was zoomed in on his chewing.
Viewers: 50,000.
Mukbang.
Of course.
"I tried that once," I told my silent black sphere. "A spicy noodle challenge. I didn't get donations. I got a burnt throat and a comment section telling me I looked like a sweating tomato. Never again in this life."
The market was oversaturated. That was the real problem. Everyone here was a streamer. Satyr vlogging, the Vampire drama, and Troll eating, it was all safe content. Same old lifestyle fluff.
It was the same boring sludge I scrolled past on Earth while lying in bed at 3 AM.
If I wanted to level up and survive, I couldn't just be another guy with a camera. I
The shiny main street was depressing me. It was too perfectwhile being equally fake. I took a sharp left turn, ducking away from the floating neon billboards and the influencer crowds.
I walked for another ten minutes, the noise of the main city fading into a dull roar behind me. This was the back end of the city. The places where the garbage trucks, or whatever magical beast ate the trash, came to collect.
"Now this," I said, stepping over a puddle of questionable green sludge, "this feels like home."
My stomach growled. I realised I hadn't eaten since the toast incident.
"Hey, System," I asked. "Do I have an inventory? Did I spawn with a starter sandwich?"
The sphere just stared at me like an idiot.
"Useless," I sighed.
Then, I heard something. My content is waiting for me at the alley.