<b>Chapter </b><b>453 </b>
Mirabe nced at her brother with a touch of disdain and took the money into her hands. “Twenty bucks can <b>get </b>you quite <b>a </b>bit.”
Leo faced the camera. “Looks like my sister’s got game. This episode, <b>I get </b>to coast again.”
As his words hit the air, the chat in the livestream went wild, with messages scrolling fast.
[LOL, talk about winning by lying down. No one beats Juztin.]
[Juztin: Right now, I feel like a pampered little princess<b>!</b><b>] </b>
[Pfft, princess confirmed.]
Leo pulled out his smartphone, scrolling through thements in the chat. His face turned dark. “Can <b>you </b>guys at least pretend to have some respect?” What was with this little princess‘ nonsense<b>? </b>
Before long, the production crew rolled up in a van big enough for eight, and the four groups of guests got in one after another.
Mirabe took a window seat, with Leo right behind her. Next to him sat Michelle <b>and </b>Heather, who were both <b>a </b>bit frosty, given the embarrassment they suffered in thest episode. If it weren’t for the fact that they were live, they probably wouldn’t even bother with pleasantries, so once they got in the van, the silence was thick.
It was about a fifteen–minute drive to the town market. With nothing better to do, Mirabe fished out her phone and began scrolling through the livestream’sments.
That was when she saw rows of neatly arranged usernames, all with eerily simrments.
Lady’s Lackey <b>#</b>1<b>: </b><b>Go</b>,dy, go!
Lady’s Lackey #2: Go,dy, go!
€ ￡ 9 9 9 + C =
Lady’s Lackey #20: <b>Go</b>,dy, go!
This army of uniform usernames wasn’t just flooding the chat withments; they were also spamming gifts and creating razzle–dazzle spectacle.
a
Mirabe touched her nose, musing to herself that the rich sure had a unique breed of followers, charmingly simple. However, they could have at least tried to vary the usernames a bit.
lower the
At her side, Michelle was also glued to her phone, scrolling through the livestream. Upon noticing the identical usernames and the constant gifting, she nudged her cousin Heather. “Look, these guys must be here to cheer you on.” Michelle showed her phone to Heather.
Once they were in the van, Michelle muted her mic so the livestream audience could not hear her words.
Heather, initially annoyed by the ufortable ride and the bumpy country road that left her head spinning, found her mood lifting at the sight of the gifts and the spam in the chat. “It must be friends showing support,” Heather said, her voice loud enough for the others in the van to hear as she tucked a curl behind her ear.
Heather’s family, the Pledgers, had a reputation. Heather was often called dy‘ wherever she went, so it was likely that these ‘Lady’s Lackey‘ usernames were her supporters.
<b>“</b>Your friends are so generous. In just a short while, they’ve sent so many gifts, worth quite a bit,” Michelle said, with a perfectly envious
tone<b>. </b>
“Man<b>, </b>I wish I had friends that loaded!” Hans chimed in from the side.
At that, Heather’s vanity was stroked. She cleared her throat and modestly replied, “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Not worth mentioning.”
After herment, Heather’s gaze inadvertently swept over Mirabe by the window, who was looking down <b>at </b>her phone with the livestream on her screen. Heather’s lips curled with a hint of scorn.
Mirabe was just a country bumpkin dazzled by a few shiny gifts. She was probably green with envy now.