Chapter 645: Golden Gachapon
To StreamGhost, being in the background was enough. His purpose was not glory, not fa beyond the screen, but the quiet, endless act of recording. He would film everything and anything without hesitation.
That was his goal, his singular ambition. Even if the galaxy itself collapsed into chaos and ruin, he would not flinch. He would not flee. He would raise his lens and record the calamity, docunting history while earning money from it.
This was his life’s calling, his only pursuit. Nothing more. No higher ambition rested beneath it. No hidden dream of conquest, no veiled desire for power. For StreamGhost, recording was enough.
"You seem to know quite a lot, Mister Money God. Perhaps keeping my distance from you would be the wisest course," StreamGhost said with a light chuckle.
His mask shifted, the smile beneath it faintly amused.
"But it is such a pity," he continued, "that you did not allow
to record your fight with the Demon King. Imagine it, if the world had seen such a battle in real ti, they would have gone mad with excitent. But, I suppose I cannot complain. Because of you, I achieved my highest viewer count to date. That one stream shattered every record I had ever set across the planet."
Then, as if struck by inspiration, his voice brightened. "Ahh, I know. Perhaps I should venture into the Abyss itself and record the Demon King’s reaction directly. That would be truly amusing... I could even make it a pay-per-view exclusive. Imagine the profit, the fortune I could make." His masked eyes glead with excitent at the very thought.
Anthony only stared at him, silent. If not for having glimpsed the truth of the Caraman class, he might have thought this strange figure suicidal.
To record the Demon King so casually? Utter madness. But Anthony knew the truth. Even the Demon King himself would be powerless against StreamGhost unless he possessed an Authority comparable to Anthony’s own.
Besides, the Demon King would not even sense StreamGhost’s presence. The only reason Anthony could detect him at all was because of his own Sense Do coupled with his Perfect One skill.
"I think that is a wonderful idea," Anthony intoned softly with a calm smile. "But before you run off, shouldn’t we split the profits from this stream? After all, I am the face of the Livestream, am I not?"
StreamGhost froze mid-motion. The excitent of imagining the Demon King’s reaction vanished instantly. He turned to Anthony, his masked expression shifting into sothing almost pleading.
"But you know as well as I do," he said carefully, "that once I finish recording, I return to being nothing more than an ordinary man. I need the money to care for my family."
Anthony blinked at him. For once, he was at a loss for words. The man had made millions, perhaps even close to a billion quarks, from this single stream alone, yet here he was, unwilling to part with even one quark.
Not that Anthony needed the money. His words had only been a joke, a jest, to see how the mysterious man would react.
Anthony shook his head with a chuckle. "Forget it. You can keep the money," he said lightly.
StreamGhost’s pleading deanor imdiately dissolved, replaced once more with that calm, smiling composure. "So," he asked smoothly, "what happens now?"
"Now... I return to our reality," Anthony replied.
"Then, until we et again, Null Anthony. Rest assured, I will be there to film your next great mission," StreamGhost declared. His form shimred, fracturing like smoke caught in a sudden breeze. A heartbeat later, his entire body scattered into nothingness, vanishing without a trace.
Anthony exhaled quietly, shaking his head with that sa calm smile. With a re thought, the Mirror Dinsion shattered around him, breaking apart like fragile glass. Reality itself bent, and Anthony returned to the sky of the Blue Planet.
The instant he appeared, countless eyes locked upon him. Across the globe, gazes sharpened, screens glowed, and streams surged with activity. There he stood, high in the sky, floating effortlessly. Not a single injury marred his body, and the dreaded Demon King was nowhere to be seen.
That alone was enough.
It was all the world needed to see. To them, the conclusion was obvious: Anthony had defeated the Demon King.
And then it began.
A roar, born not of one throat but of billions, erupted across every corner of the planet. Voices clashed, converged, and tore through the air like a storm.
"ANTHONY! ANTHONY! ANTHONY! ANTHONY!"
The chant grew, multiplied, and spread like wildfire. Children, youth, adults, and elders, all joined in. Race, class, domain, or mana rank no longer mattered. All barriers crumbled before the tidal wave of unified voices.
The sheer sound shook the earth itself. Earthquakes rumbled, the ground trembled, and yet nobody cared. The collective roar of tens of billions shook the very planet to its core.
Above them, Anthony hovered in silence, his smirk widening as he gazed upon the love, the adoration, the raw fervor directed at him.
For a brief instant, he allowed himself to bask in it. Then, raising his voice, he spoke, and his words carried through space itself, echoing into every ear as though the world itself amplified him.
"Since you are all so happy," he said with a sly smile, "let us make you even happier."
He extended his hand towards the sky.
At once, infinite mana surged through his fra, boundless and unrestrained. It erupted like a tide, spilling outward until it encompassed the entire world. The atmosphere quaked, the very fabric of existence bent beneath its weight.
Then his voice rang out once more, not as re sound, but as command, crashing directly into the consciousness of every living being.
[Ti Magic: Mana Zone: Retroactive nd]
The world itself obeyed.
Particles of ti exploded outward, sweeping across every domain and territory. Buildings long damaged were restored in an instant, their structures rewound to perfection. Wounded bodies nded as spilled blood flowed backward, sealing cuts and knitting torn flesh.
Across hidden battlefields, warriors on the brink of collapse suddenly found their stamina replenished. Their weapons, once battered and chipped, returned to pristine condition. Armor reknit itself, clothes stitched whole, as though no battle had ever scarred them in the first place.
The effects spread endlessly. Trees regrew in shattered forests, mountains re-rose from their broken peaks, rivers and oceans flowed anew. Across the entire world, damage itself was undone.
The people could only freeze in disbelief, awe flooding their veins. Before their very eyes, Anthony perford not the work of a mage, nor even of a king, but of a god. He had turned back ti.
anwhile, on StreamGhost’s livestream, gifts poured out in a never-ending flood, bursting like a dam.
[Aaaninja has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
[KingNull has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
[AuraNova has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
[AlyxAtlas has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
[Leon_Georgi_8655 has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
[Lolphh has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
[Milo4More has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
[Curtis_Page has gifted a Golden Gachapon]
The frenzy only deepened. So scread until their voices cracked, others wept openly, and still more simply stared in reverent silence. The very air trembled under the sheer magnitude of their cries, as though the air itself had grown tired of carrying Anthony’s na based sounds.
At that mont, his na was no longer sound, it was oxygen, it was the lifeblood of the planet.
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