Live Stream (2)

A woman who'd barely entered her early twenties had just announced she was going to hunt demons on a live stream. Of course nobody believed her.

"I'm Hanai the Inquisitor. Hunting demons is what I do."

The chat was turning against me, and the donation messages weren't any kinder. The same person who'd tipped me earlier was among those telling me to stop.

"I understand why you're worried. But if you're still watching me in a situation like this, that means you believe in me. Please keep believing until the end."

Had the urgency in my voice gotten through? The chat was still mostly against me, but a few messages of support started trickling in.

It was closer to do whatever you want than actual support, but it still beat a chat full of insults.

"I do. I bought a bodycam for outdoor live streams."

The second I showed them the bodycam, the jokes started flying. Proof, I supposed, that people hadn't given up on hope just yet. For now, at least.

"Alright. I'll head out, and when I find a demon, I'll turn the stream back on."

I reached for the end-stream button—and a sound I'd never heard before blasted through the room. A fanfare? A trumpet blast? It was coming from the speakers.

"Huh?"

I checked the monitor and a dumbfounded noise slipped out of me before I could stop it. There was a message on the screen that made absolutely no sense.

How much was that? Ten million won? Were they insane? They'd sent ten million won in a single donation? The chat lost its mind.

No. Calm down. Just calm down—I couldn't calm down. I'd never once in my life expected to receive a donation at all.

"If you're doing this because you're worried about me, I'm grateful. But I'm going to return this money. And if you don't want it back, I'll put it toward hunting demons."

The chat swung right back around to telling me not to go. I hadn't expected ten million won to hit that hard.

They sent another one. And they weren't done.

I'd already been sent thirty million won. On top of that, ten million every day if I quit streaming. Skip the taxes and the complicated math—that was three hundred million won a month. 3.6 billion won a year. And they were offering that kind of money in a world that had been invaded by demons?

Maybe it was the sheer size of the numbers. The chat drowned in greed.

Nothing else was getting through. The chat was a wall ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of people telling me to end the stream.

The one who had dragged me here against my will, turned me into a woman, worked me to the bone, and now expected me to fight demons all over again—this time alone—then deposited whatever I'd earned, converted at the exchange rate, into the bank account attached to this cramped studio. Maybe doing what this person asked of me would be a truer reward than anything that stingy goddess had ever given.

Would it, though?

I thought it through again. This whole situation, the wrongness of it, the way it sat in my gut. It wasn't normal. Which meant this was them.

"I figured you lot would know how to use the internet."

They'd figured out I wasn't biting, and now they were dropping the act. Fast on the uptake, as always.

"Demons of Deceit. Here's what you got wrong: there is no human who would keep throwing ten million won at a stream like mine."

To pull donations that size, you'd have to be enormously popular. Nobody would suddenly start dumping money on a boring broadcast like this.

"I don't even need to ask how you got into my stream. Your kind has never given a damn about promises or pacts."

"That's right. Want me to go further? The one who sent those donations is your lord—Panaten ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the 65 Faces. You're watching right now, aren't you?"

I kept talking over whatever curses they were spitting.

The chat went silent. My faith was unshaken, and there was no crack in it for a demon to slip through. If there had been, I would have already fallen the way so many other Inquisitors and priests had—tempted, corrupted, lost.

A chime cut through the quiet.

The frozen chat exploded.

They hadn't been able to type, but they'd seen everything. The viewers were starting to grasp that demons had been in the same chat room as them, and the horror was setting in.

In the middle of the panic, they were also impressed that I'd talked a demon out of the room. Encouraging. It meant they were starting to believe I could actually do this.

"As you just saw, the Demons of Deceit are always trying to tempt you. Always ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trying to corrupt you. So keep your hearts firm. Hold on to your faith, and don't let them in."

I left the stunned viewers behind, ended the stream, and drew a long breath.

I let my guard down. I should have known Panaten would pull something like this.

Even back in the other world, Panaten had been fascinated by humanity's science and technology. Of course they'd be into hacking, broadcasting, streaming in the modern era.

The lucky part is that the one who found my stream was Panaten.

Among the demon lords, Panaten was the one who hid in the farthest corner. True to the Demons of Deceit, they had no loyalty and cared only about profit, so they wouldn't bother telling anyone. Which meant that even among their own kind, Panaten was likely the only one who knew.

I got lucky.

I packed my gear and headed out, switching on my phone as I went.

Just in case.

I checked today's donations on a hunch.

Figures. Of course they didn't actually send it.

Panaten wasn't on the donation list. Not that I'd been planning to spend demon money anyway.

Did they just make the messages appear on screen? A demon could do that.

When had demons learned professional-grade hacking? Still, landing a hit on those always-smug Demons of Deceit felt good.

I hope they don't show up on stream again.

If they appeared even after a threat like that… no. If a demon did that, would I even be able to tell them apart from a regular viewer?

I'll have to account for that too, if I'm going to be ready for the Demons of Deceit.

Then again, wasn't the real problem the company that got hacked? Or…

Has the streaming service already been compromised?

If that were the case, this stream wouldn't still be up. Right. It should still be fine. Telling myself that, I got ready to go live.

They had no true fixed form, but they could wear sixty-five different faces. Panaten, this time wearing the shape of a human woman, was gazing at the monitor with open satisfaction when a high-ranking Demon of Deceit—the Jinni of Pride—approached.

"My apologies. If the lesser demons had chatted a little more like humans, she might have taken the bait."

"Not a chance. Hanai isn't the type to fall for something like that. I'd have been disappointed if she had. More importantly—I thought the stream server hack was finished. What happened? Did the humans already find a way to block it?"

"Well… the demons attempting the hack were burned to death."

"What? They've been sitting quiet this whole time, and now they want to get involved?"

Panaten looked up at the sky as if the whole thing were absurd, then issued an order.

"Finding Hanai's stream was a coincidence, so forget about that for now. Focus on completely subjugating this country first. That's the priority."

"Understood."

Panaten rose from the chair and stepped out onto the veranda. The high-rises humanity had built were collapsing, wreathed in blue fire.

Hanai. I'll see you later. Don't disappoint me.

Panaten smiled.