Divine Celebrity 72 (Patreon)

I was lucky that the temporary suspension before the hearing didn’t kick me out of the dorms as well, as it would have created another mess to deal with. Nothing impossible, but I didn’t want to waste my time either. 

And, with my latest adventure, I certainly didn’t have the time to waste time. 

So, when I returned to my room, rather than going to bed, I sat in front of my computer. It was impossible for me to fall asleep after being attacked by the shadow creature — as there was no guarantee that a repeat was not on the table — so, I had to use my time more efficiently. 

My first decision, I needed to turn my car repair project into something more, to see whether I could get more Intent while I attempted the repair. It was not the most efficient way of spending time, but tomorrow was too easy to start working on getting back to the team. 

I turned on my computer, and turned on a code editor. 

My mind was already on how to leverage that project for something more. Not just to acquire a car and some Intent, but convert it into a tool that I could use to generate more intent. 

Luckily, Megan’s performance earlier today gave me an idea about the direction. I needed to have a channel under my control, with enough fans paying attention to my every move. With that, I could actually control the Traits I received.  

Yet, I also knew that it was not easy to actually create a platform that would get people’s attention. 

So, as usual, I decided to cheat a bit, hence the code editor. 

My first preference would have been to create several thousands of bot accounts, giving enough fake popularity to earn the attention of the rest. 

Unfortunately, while that solution was simple, it was also one of the first things any platform checked the ensure the authenticity of a stream. And, while there were ways to bypass that, none of those methods were particularly simple, especially at my current level of ability. 

Things might change once I gained some Traits to provide direct assistance, but for the moment, that was not viable. 

So, I decided to focus on a different aspect, leaning toward a trait that helped me immensely today.

Taunt. 

I stayed in front of the computer, and created several chatbots. Nothing too extreme, just a few rough personality traits that would replicate some passionate commentators, some faking being football fans while insulting nerds, some faking nerds lacking confidence that constantly insults my looks and the girls that actually found me handsome, some just flinging general misunderstanding and insults. 

Of course, a few of them was there for a very detailed battle against the chaos that happened earlier in the team house.

Altogether, I hoped that Taunt-assisted insults would be as effective as when I used them directly, because when I finished writing these comments and finished setting up the eight distinct chatbots, the sun was already up. 

I had no problem sacrificing sleep to finish that, for two reasons. First, my Endurance and Recovery had increased significantly during the game, enough to significantly reduce my need for sleep. More importantly, I didn’t have training today, so I didn’t need to be at peak capacity. 

That didn’t prevent a long yawn from forcing its way out as I stood up and stretched, only to see two messages on my phone. One was from Coach Juana, warning me not to skip training for too long. 

I ignored that, as with my latest Traits, training lost its significance significantly. I couldn’t even use the full range of my physical abilities in the field anymore, let alone push them to the next stage. 

The second one was from Megan. ‘It’s done,’ she wrote, followed by an address for the garage, warning me to be there at eleven at the latest. 

Which was a bigger challenge than I expected, I learned as I checked the address, and saw that it was on the other side of the city. 

It was barely half an hour's drive considering there was no traffic, but using buses, it was much harder to actually focus. 

After a quick shower, I grabbed my earbuds and left. Since I was going to be waiting for the bus for a long time, I decided to leverage the moment by watching car repair videos — since I was about to shoot one of my own. 

Then, before leaving, I also put on a hat, just in case people recognized me. 

It turned out to be a good decision, as almost everyone on the bus was talking about the sudden retirement of Coach Bill and most of the players, and what would that mean for the team. 

Interestingly, not many people were talking about the fight itself, other than the occasional teasing terms. Apparently, they had been more common than I realized. 

Yet, as I continued to move, an alert appeared on my screen, a custom one from my detection. It was news about a plane disappearing in a storm. Interestingly, as I tried to search for that news, they were already gone, replaced by an official explanation that it was just a hoax. 

A frown appeared on my face as I read that. I might have ignored that, but the whole reason I set up my little news crawler was to catch news like that, and the speed it disappeared was rather impressive. 

Especially since there was no follow-up. 

The copy my program made showed that the plane had disappeared in the middle of the ocean, which was good news and bad news at the same time — assuming it was actually linked to this mysterious darkness mentioned by my guide, of course, but at this point, I didn’t have the luxury of assuming the safe option. 

Instead, I turned my attention to the implications, particularly whether it was good or bad that it happened on the other side of the planet, suggesting whatever that was happening was truly not localized, but happened all along the planet. 

Unfortunately, the news didn’t include much about the details of the flight other than the number. I tried to search for it, but they were absent. 

Suspiciously so. 

Then, I checked the flight number, to see the destination and the arrival. Only to come up empty, as whatever was responsibly erasing the news also erased any reference to the flight number.

Or, such a flight didn’t exist in the first place, but I had a feeling that that wasn’t the case.  

I took a note to research it further before turning my attention back to the repair videos. 

One task at a time. 

Of course, there was a significant amount of material on the web about repairing classic cars, some with little impact in working conditions but with great importance in general ability, such as finding the right shade of paint, as none of those shades were in production anymore. 

Luckily, that was not exactly a priority for me. I wanted to restore a car, but my aim was not to achieve perfect authenticity, but something resembling it, enough to give an impression of expertise to anyone that watched my show. 

It had been a long while since I discovered that the traits I received were less about actual achievements, and more about the perception of the observers. 

So, as long as I gave the impression of expertise, and achieved a visual approximation, it would be enough. And, if any expert chimed into the live stream to explain just how bad of a job I was doing, even better. 

There was no better thing than some controversy to drive views. 

The second challenge was finding the parts. Unlike the paint, parts were not exactly optional when it came to restoration. Just like the paint, they were not exactly supplied in every shop. Of course, real enthusiasts had many ways of dealing with that, from ordering from the original producers — with some mind-blowing price tags — to scavenging the junkyards — with equally mind-blowing time requirements. 

And I expected the car to need a lot of replacement parts. I had requested Megan that the car needed to be cheap, and for people to sell it cheaply, they should believe it was impossible to be fixed in the first place. 

Yet, even if I could bypass the problem of finding parts, it was only a prerequisite for the real challenge. Making sure the car actually started running. 

And, after my experiences with my old rustbucket, I knew just how hard that was to solve the chronic problems that affected the consistency of the car, enough to make me glad that it was more about farming Intent and Traits, and acquiring a running car was a secondary aim. 

But, as the bus pulled to the target stop, I put my phone back in my pocket, and started walking. The bus was almost empty, which usually meant two things. The place was either in a very poor part of the city, like the areas I grew up, enough to make people afraid of visiting… 

Or like the current one, I thought as I looked around, taking note of the sleek coffee shop, expensive shops filled with designer brands, and other luxuries. 

Extremely rich, enough for me to earn suspicious glares as I walked forward from the surrounding crowd as followed the map. 

Unlike a poor district, however, their suspicious glare was the limit of their attitude. No one walked toward him as he followed the map direction and arrived at one of the side streets. 

Until I came across a small garage, with its greasy and damaged door closed, looking rundown enough to fit into the ghettos rather than the middle of the place. 

The place also looked like it was closed. I hoped it was not a joke from Megan. I rang the doorbell. 

The answer came from the speaker system immediately. “We’re not looking to buy anything. Leave.”