Chapter 3

The fan group, loud a second ago, went dead silent.

And right then, there was noise outside the door.

"You filthy bitch! Giving me horns! I'll beat you to death!"

Outside, the sound of a bottle shattering, a woman's screams, one on top of the other.

My stream usually pulls around thirty thousand viewers a day.

But right now the live count was pushing past a hundred thousand.

The trending number had shot into the top ten across the whole platform. Even some big-name streamers I'd known about for years were sitting below me.

But every single one of them was a hater.

The screen was solid with cursing, so much I couldn't even read one full line before it scrolled off.

And the fan group, quiet a moment ago, blew up again.

"Leo! I've followed you for over three years. I always loved that you didn't trash-talk, didn't gloat when you won, didn't pass the blame when you lost. I never thought you were this kind of scum!"

"There's a woman out there getting beaten, and all you have to do is open the door to save her!"

"I'm begging you. In real life I'm a lawyer. If you go out and save her, I'll take on any legal consequences myself. I'll sign a contract with you right now!"

And she dropped a lawyer's retainer contract straight into the group.

The rest of the fans piled on one after another:

"Streamer, she's saying all that and you still won't go out?"

"I'm already on my way. I'm in the same city as you, I'll be there any minute! Being a fan of someone like this, I'm ashamed of myself!"

This viewer had me half-tempted. If she really was a lawyer, then even if this was a shakedown, with this much evidence I had nothing to fear.

When I rented this place I never imagined something like this could happen, so I never installed a camera by the door.

I thought it over for a long while, then dug through my stuff and found the action camera I'd bought ages ago and hung it around my neck.

But just as I worked up the nerve, even grabbed a cleaver from the kitchen, and started toward the door, that glowing message appeared again:

【Don't go. That lawyer viewer is the woman outside the door.】

【They're monsters. They're doing everything they can to trick you into opening it.】

I stopped cold, cleaver in hand, standing at the door.

Damn it!

What did I ever do to this couple, that they wanted me dead like this?

The viewers had no idea what was going on and started tearing into me:

"Open the door, streamer! Why'd you just freeze up again?"

"The hell? You messing with us? I already spent next month's living money on you, and now that it's crunch time you're chickening out?"

Some even went and doxxed me right there online, dumping all my personal info out in the open.

There were even top-tier streamers requesting a call with me, using the outrage to squeeze me and pull traffic to their own rooms, all telling me to go save her.

And me, I just stood there at the door holding a cleaver.

It was quiet outside.

Quiet enough that I could hear my own heartbeat.

Right then, a low man's voice came from just beyond the door:

"Big streamer. I know you can hear me."

My hair stood on end, every muscle drawing tight.

The man went on:

"Wire me five million right now. I'll let you come out and beat me up, and this whole thing wraps up nice and clean."

"You reap your traffic, I take the money and walk. Everybody wins."

"Five million's nothing. You'll earn it right back. You've got two minutes to think it over."

I swallowed, pulled out my phone, and checked the time on my call to the police. Five minutes had already passed.

Given the distance from the nearest precinct to the complex, five more at most and the officers were sure to arrive.

"Why would I give you money? Because you're out there beating your wife at my door?"

I said it loud on purpose.

The man just gave a cold laugh.

"Heh. I tested it out on purpose. The mic setup on your stream can't pick up my voice at all. Don't waste your breath."

"Make up your mind fast, or with this pile of dirt on you, you'll never earn another cent off streaming again!"