Chapter 145 Broadcasting!
At 12 o'clock.
The Gemini App updated silently, its live stream feature going live without fanfare. Across the digital landscape, established internet personalities on other platforms launched their own broadcasts, kicking off a momentous occasion in the world of online streaming.
Data painted a clear picture: almost 400 million netizens were poised for the event, ready to burn the midnight oil. As the clock struck twelve, 90% surged towards their preferred platforms. The remaining 10% – a staggering 40 million – navigated the unfamiliar interface of the Gemini App.
At first glance, the debut of Gemini's live stream seemed underwhelming. Yet, those 40 million represented a captive audience. Upon entering the app, they were greeted by a full-screen poster. Against a shadowy backdrop stood a man in a crisp white shirt, his face obscured. His arms were crossed, posture stoic, as several menacing figures with gleaming daggers closed in, poised to strike.
The caption read: Paul Three's Live Room: Live Assassination!
This was the spectacle the netizens craved. Excitement crackled as they flocked to Paul Three's live room, only to be met with an unexpected scene.
The room was surprisingly serene. A cozy bedroom, complete with a bed and surrounding bookshelves, filled the frame. The camera angle suggested it was perched atop a desk, capturing only the torso of a figure in a white shirt. Long, slender fingers danced across the desk, tapping out an unknown rhythm.
'Is this Paul Three?' wondered the viewers. 'Why isn't he showing his face?'
A quick glance at the viewer count revealed an astounding 35 million. Almost every single person who entered the Gemini App had converged here. In terms of sheer numbers, Paul Three might have already shattered records.
"Greetings, everyone," a captivating voice resonated from the video. "I am Creator Paul Three."
[Hello Paul Three!]
[Hey there, Paul Three!]
[Your Gemini App is incredible!]
A torrent of comments flooded the screen, a testament to the undeniable popularity of the business prodigy.
Paul Three offered a slight smile. "Some of you might find the notion of me being targeted by assassins far-fetched. Allow me to share a recording."
His words struck a chord, instantly silencing the chat as everyone leaned in, eager to hear more.
The recording began.
"Tiger, you claimed you could procure the services of international assassins. That with the right price, anyone could be eliminated."
"If I'm not mistaken, you want Paul Three dead, correct? Forty million, and consider it done."
"The individual I can provide is Nine of Spades, an international assassin."
"Get him within three days."
The conversation between Cassius and the intermediary, Tiger, played out. Elbert had meticulously scrubbed any mention of cyborgs, preventing widespread panic.
As the recording ended, information materialized on the live stream interface.
International Assassin Nine of Spades, real name Xavier Scott, entered Veridiania one day ago.
Evidence suggests he assassinated the CEO of a Japanese biopharmaceutical company two years ago.
Foreign political figure Ryan was killed by him one year ago.
A photograph of Nine of Spades, a man with piercing blue eyes and slicked-back blond hair, flashed across the screen. Over the past three days, Robert Williams had leveraged facial recognition software and combed through countless hours of surveillance footage, meticulously piecing together dozens of Nine of Spades's assassination contracts. The man was a ghost, his methods of concealment and execution flawless. If not for an AI like Robert Williams, he would have remained undetected.
A collective shiver ran down the spines of the viewers. This was real. Almost too real to comprehend. For a moment, the comments ceased, replaced by stunned silence.
Paul Three's calm voice broke the quiet. "This assassin is currently lurking outside my residence, preparing to carry out his mission."
'Oh my god! He's so calm!' thought the viewers.
[Paul Three, you're incredible, so composed!]
[Run, Paul Three! Your life is precious!]
[I want to send you a gift, Paul Three, but that seems a tad inappropriate right now.]
The comments resumed, their density increasing by the second. The live room's viewership continued its upward trajectory.
Paul Three chuckled softly. "Rest assured, Nine of Spades won't be harming anyone today. He's merely going to become a laughingstock and a highlight of my Gemini App launch."
He then announced, "Without further ado, let the show begin."
The screen flickered, replaced by a grid displaying hundreds of surveillance feeds. The viewers gasped.
[What is this? God's perspective?]
No, even a deity wouldn't possess such a comprehensive vision. This was like peering through a magnifying glass the size of the world.
A diamond-shaped building, surrounded by two kilometers of wilderness, filled the screen. The level of detail was astounding; if one zoomed in close enough, they could probably count the petals on a wildflower.
[How many cameras did they install?]
[I have a feeling Paul Three has been planning this for a while. That assassin doesn't stand a chance.]
[Is that Paul Three's house? It looks like an art museum!]
[This is insane!]
[The rich truly are different.]
The viewers were captivated by the building and typed.
Elbert smiled subtly; the structure on display was a digital construct, meticulously crafted by Robert Williams. It bore no resemblance to Lab Graveyard, a deliberate measure to avoid unwanted attention after the live stream.
Suddenly, one of the feeds zoomed in, focusing on a patch of grass. Nine of Spades lay hidden within, a sinister grin plastered across his face.
[There he is! The assassin!]
[A real-life international assassin, just like in the movies! This is too intense!]
[This is the most incredible live stream I've ever seen! Unbelievable!]
[The suspense is killing me!]
The comments exploded once more. The assassin's presence was confirmed, sending the live room's traffic soaring.
Nine of Spades crawled forward, stopping a few meters from another patch of grass. Concealed beneath it lay a manhole cover.
Text appeared above his head.
[As a seasoned international assassin, I naturally opt for the most discreet route (thinking emoji).
And what could be more discreet than the sewer system directly beneath me?
Devoid of surveillance equipment, it will grant me silent access to the building.
Paul Three, your time is up! (cleaver emoji)]
Before the viewers could process the unexpected text, Paul Three's voice filled the air. "To enhance your viewing experience, my friends, I've taken the liberty of providing you with the assassin's inner monologue."
[Now that's what I call entertainment! Hilarious!]
[I can't help but wonder what the assassin would think if he knew millions of people were watching his every move.]
The comments flowed freely, the viewers thoroughly amused by the witty subtitles. They almost forgot they were witnessing a real-life assassination attempt.
Nine of Spades glanced at the electronic watch on his wrist, setting a countdown timer for 13 minutes and 28 seconds. A sinister grin spread across his face.
The text above his head reappeared.
[My fastest kill time is 13 minutes and 28 seconds. Today, I break that record thanks to a nouveau riche nobody like Paul Three.]
'This guy is seriously arrogant!' thought the viewers.
"Assassinate someone in under 14 minutes? I'm starting to worry about Paul Three!" they whispered.
The tension in the virtual room thickened as they watched Nine of Spades take a deep breath and activate the countdown timer. The assassination had begun.
With a cold, calculating look, he reached for the manhole cover. He pulled, but it wouldn't budge.
Confusion flickered across Nine of Spades's face.
'What's going on? Why won't this thing open?'
He pulled again, this time with all his strength. It was as if the cover had been welded shut.
"FUCK!" he roared in frustration.
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