Dom woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of his sister humming.
The clock on the nightstand showed 8:47 AM, meaning he had slept for nearly ten hours.
His knee still hurt as usual, but the swelling had gone down a little.
The cat ears under the blanket moved slightly, picking up sounds he had not noticed before, like the pipes creaking below, a car alarm from three streets away, and Lucy’s off-key humming coming from the kitchen.
He sat up slowly.
The Lycan-Stalker’s mana core was glowing a faint red light on the nightstand next to his phone, which had a total of seventeen notifications.
Three were from Miller, two from Vince, and one from the NyaaBlade account dashboard, which showed that his follower count had gone over 120,000 overnight.
Dom looked at the screen for a moment, taking it all in.
Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed, put on his hood, and limped toward the kitchen.
Lucy was already sitting at the table with her laptop open and a hot cup of coffee beside her.
Her hair was pulled back, and notes in three different colors were spread across the table.
“You’re trending again,” she said without looking up.
“Someone made a compilation of your ‘best reaction faces’ from the Lycan fight. It has 300,000 views.”
“Reaction faces?” Dom raised an eyebrow while pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“You make some surprisingly good faces when you fight.” She finally looked at him.
“How’s the knee?”
“It’s fine.” He sat down in the chair, wincing a bit as he did.
“Miller texted again.”
She glanced up and nodded at his phone.
“I saw the previews on your lock screen last night. Three messages, each one sounding more desperate.”
“You didn’t open them?”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m your manager, not your girlfriend.” She turned her laptop to face him.
“I’ve got talking points ready: breach of contract, unsafe working conditions, underpaid labor, exploitation, failure to scan the gate. He really has no leverage.”
Dom looked at the screen, a slow smile forming on his face.
“My very own Saul Goodman to the rescue.”
“Thank you, actually.” Lucy smiled, clearly pleased with herself.
“It wasn’t a—” He shook his head.
“Forget it.”
She pushed the laptop closer to him.
“The point is, Miller’s been taking advantage of you for years. Underpaid, overworked, sent into unscanned gates with no backup. If he tries to blacklist you, we countersue for unsafe working conditions. He’ll give in before it even gets to arbitration.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Dom looked at her over the rim of his mug.
“Immensely.” She leaned back, crossing her arms, a satisfied smirk on her face.
“Now stop stalling and call him.”
Dom sighed, pulled out his phone, stared at Miller’s name for a moment longer than necessary, and dialed.
Miller answered on the first ring.
“Finally. Do you have any idea how much—”
“I’m done.”
Silence filled the line.
Dom checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.
Then Miller responded, sounding incredulous.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not signing any new contract. I’m not renegotiating. I’m done.”
“You can’t just—”
“I just did.” Dom’s voice was calm, steady, almost bored.
“Send my pending payouts to my account. I don’t want anything else from Vanguard. And you don’t want anything from me.”
“You’ll be blacklisted. Every guild in Chicago will know you breached contract. You’ll never find work again.”
“Then I’ll work for myself.” Dom glanced at the laptop screen, seeing follower count, engagement metrics, and the content strategy Lucy had laid out.
“I don’t need Vanguard anymore, Miller. And it seems you needed me a lot more than I needed you. Besides, I could sue Vanguard if you try to blacklist me.”
“Think carefully, Dom. You can be viral today, forgotten tomorrow. When the views dry up, you’ll come crawling back.”
“Maybe.” A faint, humorless smile appeared on his face.
“But if that happens, it will still be better than working for you.”
He hung up.
Lucy looked at him, her coffee halfway to her lips, eyebrows raised high.
“That was…”
“Short?”
“Satisfying.” She set her mug down, a slow grin spreading across her face.
“He expected me to beg.” Dom shook his head, feeling a mix of disbelief and relief.
“You gave him no room to maneuver.” She shook her head, genuinely impressed.
“I almost feel bad for him.”
“Almost?”
“Not even close.” Her grin got wider.
Dom finally let out a breath, realizing he had been holding it for some time.
His knee was hurting, and his coffee was getting cold.
But for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was not working for someone who saw him as disposable.
He felt somewhat lighter.
“Even if this goes badly later, it was worth it.”
The golden interface turned on.
[Congratulations on your first successful corporate negotiation! Ending exploitative labor contracts marks a significant milestone in any young professional’s journey!]
Dom snorted and shook his head.
“What’s up?” Lucy asked, tilting her head at him.
“Nothing. The glitch agrees with you. It called Miller exploitative.”
“It’s not wrong.” She looked a bit excited at having an ally.
[The system is never wrong! It’s just occasionally ahead of schedule!]
“It’s also pretty proud of itself,” Dom said, rubbing his temple.
Lucy raised an eyebrow.
“I can’t see it, but I’m choosing to believe it’s on my side.”
[The manager unit and the system share compatible visions for your future! Collaboration will be efficient and mutually beneficial!]
“It called you ‘the manager unit.'” Dom chuckled.
“It thinks we’re building a brand.”
“I’m starting to like this glitch more and more.” Lucy’s grin became sly.
“Pretty soon, you two will be teaming up against me.” Dom groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
Lucy patted his shoulder.
“Get used to it, catboy.”
His phone buzzed.
It was Vince.
“Please tell me you’ve got good news.” Dom answered, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Better than good.” Vince’s voice crackled through.
“I’ve got a buyer for the Stalker core—three grand, clean, no questions asked. Plus, I’ve got a lead on a fresh gate. Kobold War-Camp, Sector 2. The guilds haven’t flagged it yet.”
“What’s the catch?” Dom’s brow furrowed.
“No catch. Just a tight window. The gate’s unstable; it’ll collapse in forty-eight hours. If you want it, you’ve got to move fast.”
“Thanks, Vince. I owe you one.” Dom glanced at Lucy, who was already pulling up maps on her laptop, her focus sharpening.
“Send me the coordinates.”
“Already done. Just try not to die, catboy.”
Dom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Is there anyone who hasn’t seen that video? You’re the second person to call me that today.”
“Better get used to it. Vince out.”
The line went dead.
Lucy was already pulling up files on her laptop, her fingers moving quickly over the keys, her tongue poking slightly from the corner of her mouth in concentration.
“I’ll dig into the archives,” she said.
“Guild bestiary entries on Kobolds, old raid reports—public versions, anyway. Hunter forum discussions about tactics. Give me an hour, and I’ll have a strategy brief ready.”
“You can do all that?” Dom stared at her, genuinely surprised.
“Please. It’s just research. Anyone could do it.” She waved a hand dismissively, though pride crept into her expression.
“I’ve never seen anyone do that.”
“Most hunters are too busy flexing to read.” She looked up and grinned, smugly.
“Lucky for you, I’m not a hunter.”
She kept scrolling, not looking up.
“You’ll need potions for stamina, mana, and healing. Your blades need sharpening. And your gear could use an upgrade; your jacket’s shredded, and your hood’s barely holding together.”
“Wow, harsh.” Dom clutched his chest in mock offense.
“And you should stream this one. Live.” She finally glanced up, her eyes bright with excitement.
“The Lycan video was huge, but it was recorded and uploaded later. If you stream the next raid—”
“The engagement will be even higher. I know.” Dom paused, frowning.
“Wait, how would we even live stream it?”
“Just ask your glitch.” Lucy raised an eyebrow at him, as if it were obvious.
Dom turned to the golden interface, which bobbed expectantly, practically vibrating with eagerness.
[Live streaming is available! The system can broadcast directly to all connected platforms with minimal latency! The audience will love experiencing your combat in real-time! The system recommends engaging with chat during downtime!]
Dom had many questions swirling in his mind, but he set them aside for now.
“It says live streaming’s ready.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“It wants me to engage with chat.”
“Engaging with chat?” Lucy’s eyes lit up, practically glowing.
“That’s perfect! Viewer interaction drives retention. We could do Q&A segments, polls—”
“No Q&A.” Dom held up a hand, firm.
“Dom.”
“I’m already out of my comfort zone as it is.”
“Then answer questions about your blades, your build, your tactics. You’ve been grinding for four years; you know more about dungeon crawling than half the hunters on the forums. Share some of that.” She leaned in, earnest now.
“The audience doesn’t just want to watch you fight; they want to feel like they know you. That’s how you build a loyal following.”
[The manager unit makes an excellent point! Parasocial bonding is a key driver of long-term audience retention!]
Dom groaned, dropping his head into his hand.
“Your glitch just agreed with me, didn’t it?”
“It used the phrase ‘parasocial bonding.'” Lucy looked absolutely delighted.
“See? Even the glitch gets it.”
Dom rubbed his temples.
“Fine. Selected questions. Between fights.”
“Deal.” Lucy was already typing, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.
“I’ll draft the announcement, tease the Kobold camp raid tonight, mention the live Q&A, build some hype. You focus on gear.”
“Tonight?” Dom’s eyebrows shot up.
“The gate collapses in forty-eight hours. Every hour you wait is an hour the guilds might flag it.” She met his gaze, steady and certain.
“You’ve been waiting years for a break, Dom. This is it. Don’t slow down now.”
Dom looked at his sister, eighteen and already more competent than half the guild officers he’d worked with.
Then he glanced at the golden interface, still bobbing at the edge of his vision.
“Fine,” he said.
“Tonight. Live stream. Kobold camp.”
[The system is already preparing the broadcast overlay! Chat will be enabled! Emotes will be available! The audience is going to lose their collective minds!]
“It’s excited,” Dom said, deadpan.
“I can tell.” Lucy was already typing furiously, not even glancing up.
“Go gear up. I’ll handle the announcement. And Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“Try not to die on camera. It’s bad for the brand.” She said it lightly, but her eyes lingered on him a second too long, the joke not quite masking her concern.
“Didn’t know my sister cared more about engagement metrics than her loving brother.” Dom smirked, pushing back from the table.
“Please leave before I throw up.” But she smiled as she said it.
He pulled his hood up.
The ears settled into place, hidden yet alert.
Time to gear up.
Time to move.
Time to show the internet exactly what a broken reward could do.