For the Greatest Happiness of the Greatest Number

Once I'd taken the full blazing baptism of donations congratulating my First Clear, I opened the inventory window I'd had up a moment ago and closed again. Then I checked, one more time, the medal I'd left sitting on the screen while the donations rolled in.

I nodded, looking the medal over with satisfaction, and shifted my gaze to the chat.

"There's really no word of a clear on the other servers, right?"

Looked like I'd done a splendid job of hanging on to my Raider world champion title, too. It would have been nicer if I hadn't been pouring blood out of both nostrils—but I'd forced my focus up past its limit to end the fight in a short one, so the nosebleed was my own karma. Even so, that call was what let me take the First Clear, and I didn't particularly regret it.

...Really!

"All right. Now that the clear's done..."

Right. I still hadn't rolled the new pickup gacha this update had added. I'd been saving that time so I could take the boss's head even a little sooner. Then why did someone that busy do a champion entrance performance? Because that was basic courtesy, the kind you absolutely have to show as a champion and as a broadcaster! Completely different from gacha!

Anyway, I had to do the gacha. I did. But...

"...How about we do the gacha tomorrow?"

I wasn't as wrecked as I'd been during the Techsecular First Clear attempt, but I was still badly worn down. A gacha stream needs energy spilling over the sides, and I was nowhere near a state where I could drag that kind of energy out. Yeah. Doing it tomorrow, when I was fresh, was the right call.

On a normal day the chat would have put up at least a little playful resistance, but today, thankfully, the viewers bought it without a fight. It was only possible because the First Clear had sent public opinion rocketing, if only for a moment. Or maybe the sight of me gushing blood from both nostrils had stirred up something like pity. Either way, I could now end the stream without a single pang of conscience.

"Okay! Gacha's tomorrow! Then I'll be heading out! Bye, everyone!!!"

Märchen messaged her editor that a jog tomorrow was probably too much, then slept like the dead straight through until lunchtime. Meanwhile Chaein, manager to the broadcaster Märchen, was enjoying her work immensely. Not as a joke. For real. Where in the world was the workaholic who wouldn't be delighted when the results were busy photocopying themselves?

For starters, ad proposals were pouring in at an absurd rate. Stretch the truth a hair, and everything she tripped over was an advertisement. Chaein knew, of course, that out of all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those ads the only ones Märchen would care about were the otaku-related ones. And the merch.

Seeing this time that demand for Märchen's goods had blown past anything she could imagine, she could be sure of it: the fandom was far larger and sturdier than she'd expected, and it had serious spending power besides. Which meant she could take a more aggressive stance on merch sales—not only pressing extra stock, but making entirely new goods while she was at it. And———

"She's going to turn this one down, I bet..."

As she muttered it, Chaein's eyes were pinned to a single proposal.

A plan she'd thought up after seeing Märchen during the music-video shoot. A plan aimed at classing up the image of the broadcaster called Märchen. A plan to lock that fandom in even tighter. A plan chasing the gap moe Märchen brought up whenever she got bored.

Chaein was confident she could push the plan through. With the recent numbers as her weapon, it wouldn't even be difficult. What she had no confidence in was getting Märchen's permission for the photobook itself.

Would someone who streamed bare-faced, wearing a Custom-Ordered T-Shirt that—stretch it a little—was indistinguishable from a fashion crime, really shoot a photobook? She wanted to think positively. The positive thoughts refused to come. Even so, watching the cosplay on stream, it didn't feel as if the chance were absolute zero.

So Chaein sent a message.

A broadcaster to the bone, Märchen took one look at the text Chaein had sent and immediately fired back an idea.

I turned the stream on, the opening rolled, and chat climbed in a rush of viewers hoping my gacha would die screaming. Watching it, one corner of my chest—should I call it warming? Heating up?—and a feeling grew wild and fast. This time I would land a Bitik no matter what, and get back at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every person currently praying for my misery in the chat.

I put that feeling in my voice and, the instant the opening ended, opened my mouth.

"Yes, this is Märchen, Raider world champion, who showed up today with her mind made up to pull off a Bitik no matter what."

"Ah, I'm a critic of utilitarianism, actually."

Since when?

Since this very moment!

"So, as I previewed yesterday, today I'm planning to roll this new pickup gacha..."

This Raider gacha was in a slightly different spot from every Raider gacha so far.

"I'm raising a main and an alt at the same time right now, remember? I even uploaded an alt progression video, so you all probably know."

For the record, once I'd edited the recording and laid my voice over it, the video had a different flavor, and the views were quietly doing well. It felt good to know the care I'd put in had been worth something.

"So I'm thinking of rolling gacha on both the main and the alt today? The problem is whether I roll the main first, or the alt first..."

Honestly, if the alt's gacha exploded, I didn't much care. What mattered was the main, the one real money had gone into. Personally I wanted to burn off a little bad luck on the alt and then chase a Bitik on the main... but what if, like last time, the moment I Bitik'd on the alt I'd spent the luck the main was supposed to use, and the main went down in a catastrophe? Better, then, to do the main first. There was even a saying for it—better to take the beating early.

Our viewers, of course, did not seem to see it that way. Nothing for it. And it was true that, purely as a broadcast, doing the alt first made the prettier picture.

"Okay! Alt first! Then, before we officially start the gacha—there's also a major announcement today, moderate edition, so don't leave just because the gacha's over. Pin the channel!"

The new pickup character this time was a shielder. A five-star shielder. Honestly, even if I pulled her, I didn't think I'd use her. Märchen's boss-clear party had more or less hardened into three damage dealers and one healer.

"Reviews ought to be roughly out by now.... How's her kit?"

"Yeah? Then maybe I don't push all the way into dupes. Just lightly pick up a namecard—one copy of the character, one of the weapon?"

My mechanics are good anyway.

"Let's decide once we see what actually shows up. They say the kit's good, so even two dupes on the character and a single copy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the weapon should be fine."

I said it while booting up the alt. A modest pile of currency, gathered while I'd been diligently raising the account.

"...Wanting my own gacha to fail. That's a first."

Please, just don't let me waste my luck here....

I packed that desperate hope into my lungs and shouted.

"Please, fail!!!"