Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: Beyond That, the Idol (9)
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Thinking about it, that was indeed the case.
Omega Detroit's top 100 companies.
Though the term was "top 100," in reality, the list was padded with a ton of shells.
Including tax havens and ghost corporations set up by overseas firms just to cash in on city autonomy perks.
That was exactly why Tessellation Investment had the guts to launch a surprise raid on Regency Group.
Their real headquarters was physically on the opposite side of the planet. Even a megacorp in the world's top five might have a shot if you hit them with a sudden capital blitz when a vulnerability showed.
Luckily, that scheme got shut down before it even launched, but anyway.
Strip out those paper companies, and the actual forces with proper headquarters in this city? Barely two dozen, tops.
Strictly speaking, that's how it shook out.
The genuine conglomerates rolling private armies on par with militaries. Folks tied to those chaebols were a tiny elite even in the city. The corporate overlords dwelling in their sky-high towers were the type you couldn't bump into even if you hunted them down with everything you had.
But since all my run-ins so far had been at that level, my sense of scale must've gotten warped.
I just gawked blankly and echoed back.
"By any chance, how many top-tier mercenaries does that organization keep on payroll... What? None?"
I was thrown for a loop, but on second thought, that actually made perfect sense.
Corporations only cared if their products and services moved units—they couldn't give a damn who was stirring trouble down in the slums.
So for average joes or street hustlers fleecing them, downtown or the outskirts? No real difference.
Prism Studio's backers, the Black Dog Gang, were no exception.
Just another breed of lowlifes, no different from the punks our church had been sweeping up in the burbs all this time.
Which left me mulling it over for a beat.
"Eve, just play dumb and head back now... I don't wanna see you get hurt!"
"......"
Riko's worry left me at a loss for words.
========
Riko thought to herself.
She had to talk this stubborn girl out of helping her, somehow.
'Dangerous...!'
She knew it better than anyone—the merciless brutality of gangsters hiding behind an entertainment agency's mask.
Once, a fellow streamer had snapped under the company's unfair treatment and tried going public with it.
The very next day, he turned up as a cold corpse from overdose. The press spun it as a tragic accident from a celeb's wild ways. But everyone knew the score. It was a lesson.
A blatant show of the muscle lurking behind the company... and the endgame for any slave who crossed the boss.
That's why Riko was pleading desperately even now.
"Please, please just listen to me...!"
She couldn't let a sweet, naive girl like Eve get dragged into this mess on her account.
This wasn't some pity-fueled side quest. She had to make her see that.
But the girl looked downright exasperated with her.
"I'll handle it for you. Don't worry."
"No, I'm fine! Please, just listen! This isn't your fight—"
"Then."
Eve cut in, pausing before locking eyes with her.
"Do you wanna crawl back to the studio and spend your life getting screwed over? Or get flamed by fans for crap you didn't even do?"
"That's not... but still."
"Riko."
The soft lilt calling her name hit pause on her breath.
A warm hand settled on her quaking shoulders.
The girl with those piercing sky-blue eyes, like they peered straight into her soul, spoke up.
"Just... forget all the other stuff for a sec. Answer one thing honestly?"
"Uh...?"
"Tell me straight what you want most right now. That'll be enough for me."
There was something uncanny in that gentle tone.
A pull that melted her iced-up heart, leaving her oddly at ease.
Those words stirred something deep in her chest.
A question about her real desires—one she'd stopped even asking herself since becoming the agency's marionette.
Shards of ancient memories bubbled to the surface.
Truth was, back when she first fired up streams in Paradise, Riko hadn't even dreamed of streaming stardom.
'I just wanted everyone to hear my voice.'
To know the girl called Riko was out here. Existing in this world.
And hey, if luck struck and she blew up big, maybe her folks—who ditched kid-her—would catch that voice and come running back. Yeah, she'd kicked off with even that kid-level hope.
She ditched the starry-eyed BS quick, sure. But another dream took root.
Folks who dug her stories. Viewers who leaped screens and borders to befriend Riko.
She fell hard for them. Craved more praise, more shared moments.
Just a bit brighter. A little more shine.
But... too greedy for a pleasure-district orphan, maybe?
The star aching to soar high and gleam got yanked down by grown-ups' filthy greed.
Still, that spark—the one little Riko nursed under threadbare blankets, sneaking streams after grueling days?
Her sole dream to shine? Never wavered, not once.
The tidal wave of that buried wish crashed in, and Riko's eyes burned hot.
"I... I..."
She swiped at her blurring sight with her sleeve.
Then, in a sniffly croak, spilled her raw truth at last.
"I... I just love chatting with people. Wanna keep having fun with everyone, all sorts of stuff... repay my fans who like me, say thanks. But... now I can't anymore... it hurts so bad..."
The agency had already greenlit dumping her.
Her streams had teetered on the edge too much lately.
Uncontrollable ticking bomb.
So post-stadium megaconcert, they'd wring her dry—suck every last cent from fans.
After that? Riko might never stream like old times again.
"I hate that... I don't wanna end like this...!"
Riko's bared heart, finally out.
The girl who'd listened in silence gave a soft nod.
"Got it. For being straight with me—and congrats on fan status—here's a welcome gift."
Eve clapped once, crisp and clear.
Clap—the space around them rippled like a mirage.
Figures materialized from thin air.
"Wha—what...?"
Riko whipped around, spooked. Eve soothed her cool as ever.
"Relax, they're my bodyguards. Been sticking close with optical camo the whole time."
But that just floored Riko harder.
"B-bodyguards...? Optical camo...??"
She gaped, speechless.
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On Eve's cue, the six bishops dropped their full-body optical camo.
The shadow escort detail, forever trailing the Saintess unseen.
Why groups of six? Simple math.
Sims pegged six 8th-class combat bodies equal to a hundred elite mercs.
The Saintess addressed them.
"Sorry to ask, but could you guys handle this?"
The bishops, true to form, didn't balk.
"Way too kind. Command us freely, anytime."
The upshot?
The Mohawked hotshot.
Gang boss Bronson Terrier, scared of nothing and no one, now on his knees before little girls.
Took about thirty minutes flat.
Hideout was twenty round-trip from here—not a dull wait.
FYI: Half the bishops stuck guarding Eve. Just three hit the gang pad.
"......"
"........."
The hauled-in agency brass and gang head? Not even a peep.
Shivering fits, heads glued to the floor.
No shock there. They'd witnessed their boys—who rushed to snatch back the boss from phantom raiders—smashed flat.
'Monsters... legit freaks.'
Optical camo to boot. Tech these gutter punks had never dreamed of.
Who in this city rocked bodies like that? Unthinkable.
Even the hardcases clammed up, quaking.
Bluster types? Already pancaked into gore-puddles somewhere.
"........."
Riko, staring slack-jawed.
'Dream... gotta be a dream.'
She pinched her cheek on reflex.
Thirty minutes. That's it.
Every chain on Riko's life? Snapped.
Those demon-lording thugs.
Tamed like the meekest pups.
Too unreal. She zoned out till that soft voice tickled her ear.
"Riko."
She jolted alert.
"What do you wanna do with 'em?"
Eve tossed it out breezy. The grovelers twitched as one.
But rebellion? Not on the menu.
Dead air hung thick.
Riko's brain shorted.
'Me? I call the shots?'
World flipped. Voice shaky, she eked it out.
"Just... make sure I never cross paths with them again...?"
"Sure. Piece of cake."
Eve shrugged it off like handing back lost change.
Then started barking orders around.
"......"
Still unreal as hell.
Made her shakes ease, weirdly.
Her eyes locked on her mystery savior.
Deep down, that bottled question slipped free.
"...Why, though?"
"Hm?"
Her inner voice out loud—Riko flinched.
Quick glance 'round, then tentative:
"Eve... why go this far for me...?"
The girl's reply, after a think? Wild card city.
"'Cause you solved my dilemma too."
"I... did?"
"Yup. VR worship ads and donations—you clued me in."
"For that?"
"Need more?"
"No, but... c'mon, that was zilch."
"Ditto."
Riko clocked it late.
To Eve? This whole saga was peanuts.
Maybe legit. Chains Riko figured lifelong? One word from the girl, poof.
For real, just payback for solid advice.
But to Riko? Life-altering jackpot.
"......"
Heart thumped wild, no clue why.
Old memory pinged.
Pre-Paradise orphan drop-off.
Sole parent flashback.
Mom's low, warm fairy-tale reads for the wide-awake kid.
["Once upon a time, ages ago... in a fair, peaceful kingdom, a beautiful princess was born."]
Hearing it soothed her soul.
Maybe her chatter gift was inherited.
Top pick? Sleeping Beauty. No clue why fave, but nightly begs stuck vivid.
Curse-plunged princess in endless slumber? Kid-Riko tensed every time.
Then prince rolls in, curse cracked, princess up—big grin, mom-hug.
["Mommy! That happen for me someday?"]
["Sure thing, princess mine."]
Yeah, tot-time true belief days.
Life grinded it out naturally.
Salvations? Fairy-tale scripts only. No witches, fairies, prince-rescues IRL. Grew up, learned the hard shrug.
Blackout buried till now.
Why resurface?
"........."
Riko looked up. Girl glowed solo—magnetic, eyes glued.
Weird. Heart racing why?
'No way... this is...'
For a sec, she wondered.
The awakener for the VR-slumbering princess...
Not white-horse prince.
A heaven-sent saintess.
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