Novel & Cerita Slice Of Live

The Geneva broadcast room was silent except for the hum of servers and the ticking of a large analog clock on the far wall. Sophie sat before the camera in a navy blazer, hair slicked into a low bun, lips bare, eyes lined with sleep-deprived steel. “Stream is live in 30 seconds,” the tech director called. Rachel adjusted the lighting. Camellia hovered near the tablet with backup feeds on standby. Alexander stood just outside the frame, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Sophie exhaled slowly. “Let’s begin,” she said. The Phoenix livestream activated across three continents.

The room froze. Complete silence. Not a single sound. Not even breathing. Because everyone understood what that meant. And judging by the expression on Cassian’s face— that wasn’t even the worst part. Then another notification appeared on every screen inside the villa. A single sentence. Bright red letters. Impossible to ignore. FINAL LIVE BROADCAST BEGINS IN 60 MINUTES. And beneath it— a second message appeared. One that made Cassian lose all color. TELL HER THE REST. OR WE WILL.

Everyone watching the live stream was waiting for this day. They expected to see it all—my surprise, my shock, maybe even tears. But too bad for them. I was going to disappoint them. They'd never get to see it.

Simultaneously, Mizu and her opponent walks in the center of the stage with a distance of 2 meters away from each other and are in high guard, soon the host announced, " Between player 11659 and player 11996, the game of life and death now begins!" Just the second after the host declared, the girl immediately vanished and like a gust of wind that passed Mizu, she didn't notice her coming, just when she felt a blade grazes her face and followed by a sting. Blood instantly flew on the new wound. Mizu wipes it and turned back, facing her opponent who was already linking the blade with her own blood. Mizu caught off guard from her inhuman speed.

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Brandon Foster, and his girl bestie pulled out their wedding certificate at the casino. Brandon shrugged as he said, "It's just a joke—we'll be divorced tomorrow, and everyone knows that Wanda and I are strictly platonic." Wanda Stiles, however, was smiling provokingly. "Come on—they say marriage is sacred, so you guys can quit gawking already and hand us our wedding presents!" Everyone around the table laughed, with someone saying, "Alright! I own a business in the West End, and you can have it for your wedding… if you beat me at the dice game. Table rules." I didn't argue and merely sat at the table, smiling faintly as I met Brandon's frown. "The

Mom and Dad switch my and my brother's weekly allowances to a lottery ticket system to toughen us up. Each weekend, Daryl Gray and I get five scratch-off lottery tickets, and whatever we win becomes our allowance for the following week. Daryl is always lucky enough to win at least 150 dollars per ticket, which is enough for him to enjoy eating out, buying new sneakers, and even buying juices and snacks for his classmates. However, the most I have ever won is a single 50-dollar ticket. Usually, I'll only win about ten dollars in total, but if I'm really down on my luck, I won't even win a single dollar from them. If that happens, I'll have to rely on the extra five dollars I saved from th

Riki steps forward slightly now, crouching down just enough to meet his eye level. “Still on live?” he asks casually. Fedric hesitates, then reaches for his phone, hand shaking. He turns the screen toward us, live stream, still running. Riki tilts his head. “Hmm.” Then reaches over, and ends it. Fedric’s shoulders drop. Whatever confidence he had left? Gone. I step forward again, slow and measured. “You’re no longer a VIP member of my club,” I say. He nods quickly. “Yes—yes, okay—”

Out of nowhere, Vivi lunged at me, a knife clenched in her hand. Harvey shouted, "WATCH OUT!" and threw himself between us. The sickening sound of metal hitting flesh echoed as his face twisted in pain, blood soaking his clothes. People around us screamed. Vivi's vicious glare crumbled into panic, her hands shaking. "Harvey! I didn't mean to hurt you! That wretch came back from the dead! I thought if I killed her, we could still have a future—"

Under the warm light, he looked every bit like a composed, dependable man. Too bad that at this moment, his back was slightly hunched, his fingers flying across the screen so fast they left afterimages. The cold glow of his phone lit his face from below, revealing flushed cheeks and a grin stretched almost to his ears. That expression was more feverish than mine the day my company went public and its stock price skyrocketed. Silently, I opened his profile. His latest post was ten minutes ago. The image showed a recharge receipt from a livestreaming platform: 20,000 dollars in "Starlight Value."

Since dawn, my team and I had set up a makeshift studio inside the technician van. Just a folding table, a laptop, an encoder, and one large screen displaying a live feed from the infrared camera. Nicky had installed the camera the night before, right in the eastern meadow, the route Celeste had used to sneak in. At exactly 9:00 p.m., I opened the CASSTalk Live app, the massive video platform built by Hugo and now used by millions worldwide. The red “Go Live” button appeared. I typed a short title: