"If you could wish for anything in the world, what would it be?"

A man stopped by a nearby fountain, digging into his pocket for a coin before throwing it into the basin without much thought.

"For me?" he read from the phone on his right, picking from one of the comments. "It’s gotta be money."

His eyes suddenly widened. A second later, he bent over the edge of the fountain and plunged his arm into the cold water.

When he came to, another comment managed to catch his eye.

"Is money everything?"

...

"Yes! Obviously it is! What kind of stupid question is that?!"

That was what Deon answered, completely with a straight face as he put the still-wet coin back into his pocket.

Viewers: 7

[MrKimchiCheese: Kkk, then why’d you donate your last ten bucks to that homeless guy?]

"Arghhh, I didn’t know taxi fares cost that much! That driver was totally scamming me. He took the long route on purpose!"

But the chat wasn’t letting it slide.

[ScamDay: oh NOW you care about money?]

[RentCollector: ask him where that $50k went LMAOOO]

[MrKimchiCheese: kkk bro probably spent it all, now he’s got none left!]

"...Can you guys shut up for like—five seconds?"

Deon clicked his tongue, thumb hovering over the red recording button, debating whether or not to close the app entirely.

"I told you, I didn’t know it was real. It was just a misunderstanding. I resolved it with the person already and—"

Yet even with his explanation, the chat exploded in accusations.

[LiarLiar: HERE WE GO AGAIN]

[ClipIt: SOMEONE CLIP THIS]

[DayScammer: bros still coping months later]

Taking a deep breath and trying to compose himself, Deon adjusted the volume on his phone before speaking. "Look, I’m trying to pay it back, I really am."

"But forget that—what kind of challenges do you guys want me to do?" Maybe...sneak into a mall and try to stay overnight? Or explore an abandoned and spooky ghost house?"

[LiarLiar: Hah! Like we’ll watch your content!]

[ScamDay: Yeah. To be honest, I’m just here to ragebait.]

[ClipIt: See everybody over at SourPeach’s stream!]

Viewers: 6

Viewers: 3

Viewers: 1

"..."

"Assholes..."

After years of streaming, being one of the top streamers...this is the treatment I get?!

Deon sighed, about to turn off his phone before a sharp vibration surprised him.

*QuietLurker donated $5.00*

"...What?"

[QuietLurker: good luck...hope this helps.]

"...Hey, you don’t have to—"

Viewers: 0

"...Thank you."

He stared at his viewer count for a moment longer before finally ending his stream and exiting from the streaming app.

Today was another unsuccessful day, with 0 hours of actually doing any streaming and 5 hours of just arguing with hate spammers.

Deon opened his banking app, checking if the donation went through despite what he just said earlier.

Balance: $4.50

"Wait—four fifty? Is it because of tax? Seriously?"

But before he could complain any longer, his stomach growled so loudly it could’ve been mistaken for a small creature’s roar.

Deon grimaced, pressing a hand against it. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, you don’t have to remind me."

It had been—what, two days now?

"Whatever."

Shoving his phone into his pocket, he pushed himself up and stepped out into the street.

Ding!

The familiar convenience store bell rang from above, so familiar that Deon didn’t even clock it in his head.

He made his way to the back aisle of the store with ease, mostly to find the foods that were discounted at the end of the day.

Nice...They still have rice balls and milk bread left. And they’re 70% off too! Lucky me~

He grabbed both items, bringing them up to the front. The cashier looked at Deon, eyes wide as recognition flickered.

But before he could say anything, Deon had already paid and grabbed both of his items, making his way outside and plopping himself on a nearby wooden bench.

He dug into the rice balls, chewing greedily as if it were going to grow legs and run away from him. At the same time, he pulled out his phone again, checking the notification.

Balance: $1.67

"Ahhh..." he leaned back into the bench. "I say all that about repaying things back. But damn...I don’t even have the money to buy my own food."

"Man, maybe I should really apply for jobs again..."

Deon scratched his head, looking over at a pigeon that had just landed next to him. "Who am I kidding? What kind of place would hire me after all that’s happened?"

He unwrapped the milk bread, taking off a few crumbs before dropping them onto his side. The pigeon hovered over immediately, pecking at the crumbs without hesitation while Deon took a bite of his own.

"Guess I’m gonna stick to streaming for a while."

Deon leaned back against the bench, the last of the milk bread gone, crumbs scattered at his feet. The pigeon lingered a moment longer, then fluttered off.

"...Yeah. Figures."

He wiped his hands against his jeans and let his head tilt back, staring up at the dim glow of the streetlights.

For a second, things were quiet.

The cool winter air brushed against his skin, causing his messy black hair to sway along with it. Deon shivered, pulling his black leather jacket close.

Why’d I even bother wearing a button-up and tie for the stream anyway...No one’s gonna care.

Deon leaned back in his chair, sighing as he watched his breath turn into mist before it floated into the air and disappeared.

...

"Deon Day."

Deon flinched at the voice. He hadn’t heard anything, let alone any footsteps approaching. Yet a woman stood a few steps away.

What, who the hell is this woman? I don’t remember borrowing from any loan sharks?! Is this some hating stalker?!

No, calm down Deon. Nothing’s happening yet

"...Do I know you?" he frowned, pushing himself up slightly on the bench.

The woman didn’t answer, instead she stepped right up to his face. Up close now, Deon could see her almost uncanny expression, like she didn’t have any muscles on her face.

It felt...wrong, like she didn’t quite belong in the same world as everything and everyone else else. "You’ve been selected."

"...Huh?"

"You’ve been selected as a participant."

A small box appeared in her hand. Deon didn’t even see where she pulled it from.

"For the Miracle Royale."

For a second, Deon’s brain failed to process what exactly was going on and why this person was in front of him.

What the hell is she saying? Miracle Royale? Is that some kind of new term?

"...What is this, some kind of prank?" he muttered, eyeing the small box.

Yet even after a few seconds passed, the woman stood as still as ever.

"Look...if you’re not gonna say anything, I think I’m just gonna go—"

"The winner of the Miracle Royale...Will have the chance to change the world, reshape it to whatever they desire."

The woman said, extending the box towards his direction.

"...Anything?"

The word slipped out before Deon could stop it. The moment it left his mouth, he felt something twist in his chest, like his own instincts were turning against him.

What the hell am I saying?

The woman didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.

"Anything."

Deon let out a quiet and frankly, disbelieving breath. He dragged a hand through his hair as he looked away for a moment.

This is insane, you’re insane, Deon. Some random woman appears and talks about miracles and you’re entertaining the idea?

"...Right," he muttered under his breath, a dry, humorless laugh slipping out. "Yeah. Of course I am."

Because what else was there?

His bank balance barely scraped past a dollar. His reputation was so terrible he couldn’t find another job...and his name was only remembered so that people could laugh at it.

"Tch..." he looked up at the woman. "Handing a man behind bars the key and expecting him not to take it..."

Deon grabbed the small box from her hand, simply staring at it before he flipped it open.

Inside rested a single envelope, placed neatly against the velvet interior. The flap was sealed with dark red wax, with an insignia Deon didn’t recognize.

"...You’ve gotta be kidding me."

He broke the seal without much thought, pulling the paper free and unfolding it in one motion. There was not much he had to read, as only a single line had been written inside the envelope.

[I, Deon Day, agree to become a participant in the Miracle Royale.]

"...Yeah," he muttered. "Definitely a scam."

But even as he said it, his eyes didn’t leave the page.

Anything. A miracle, the chance to change everything...

"...Like I’ve got anything to lose anyway."

Deon reached into his pocket, pulling out a pen. The tip hovered over the paper, just above his name, lingering there as if waiting for one last reason to stop.

Yet none came.

He let out a quiet breath. "...Screw it."

And then, without giving himself another second to think—

Deon signed.