Spin-Off: Old Six's Daily Life (1)

From the moment Song Old Six PUS could make sense of the world, he understood one thing: in this life, you can lack anything, but you absolutely cannot lack money.

Half a minute ago, as his left cheek was forcibly pressed onto the scorching hood of a car by a loan shark, he realized how fucking true that was.

And now, standing in a deserted alleyway in Metropolis's Queens District, as he watched the debt collector Black Ghost heat a steel rod with his laser eye, he felt it again—this was the only truth in the world.

"Are you going to pay up or not?" The collector's skin was slate gray, and his swollen muscles stacked like slabs of marble. Those weren't steroid-blown muscles, no—this was a combat prosthetic body armed to the teeth.

Standing at 2.2 meters tall, his burly figure made crushing Old Six's hands with one of his own look as effortless as squeezing a chick.

Feeling the searing heat edging dangerously close to his ass and glancing at the "Pain Editor Hack Detected" notification on his system UI, all while heavy raindrops pelted his head, Song Old Six PUS's brain spun at lightning speed.

"I'll pay, I'll pay! You...you wait, bro! I'll pay right now!" At the critical moment, Song Old Six PUS had a sudden epiphany and opened his livestream channel with a single swipe.

Pressed there, Song Old Six PUS craned his neck and screamed into the screen at the scrolling barrage of comments: "Hey everyone, I'm Song 6PUS! Folks from South City D must know me. Welcome to my livestream!"

"We're all bros! You can see the kind of shit I'm in right now, right? So, help me out! Old buddies, fire them rockets! I only need 421 rockets to clear my debt, or else you might not see your Song 6PUS again!!"

The Black Ghost behind him frowned deeply, glaring at the surge of activity in the chat. He clearly didn't like what he saw.

"What the fuck? I came here for my money, and now you're using me as your goddamn cash cow?"

With a sizzling sound, Old Six suddenly felt his pants starting to heat up.

"Shove it in! Shove it in!"

"One rod? What's the fun in that? If other cities see this, they might think Metropolis is too broke to play! One hole, one rod!"

As the viewers egged on the chaos, the number of people watching steadily increased.

"Fuck off! I'm not some goddamn BDSM fetishist!" Old Six screamed hoarsely. If his Pain Editor still worked, he might have held out longer. But with his system hacked, every bit of pain would hit him at 100% full blast—pure, unfiltered suffering.

"Oruba, bro! Don't listen to them! I know the livestream biz better than you! You really stick it in, and they'll lose interest and all leave in seconds!!"

While Old Six desperately tried to talk him down, the sudden spike in viewership triggered the platform's host-versus-host livestream PK mode.

A dazzling light display and upbeat music filled the air. Suddenly, a group of buzz-cut, round-faced, stubbly-bearded, chubby guys wearing white socks appeared in Old Six's stream window on the left.

It was a boy band. There they were, their glowing white socks planted on a virtual beach. The sea breeze fluffed their armpit hair into gentle data-stream waves.

A virtual rocket shot across the top of the stream, and the yellow-haired chubby guy in the center bit his lip, dropped to one knee, and tilted his head slightly upward. Using his external prosthetic body, he gently hooked the corner of his white sock and began to pull it down seductively, his gaze glazed and intoxicating.

"Holy shit, it's the Quantum Siphon Boy Band?!" Oruba exclaimed in excitement, his massive frame trembling at the sight, making Old Six even more nervous as he feared the steel rod might be swapped out for something more... uh, organic.

"Semira, are these guys famous or what?" Old Six whispered softly to his AI assistant while inching his body to the left.

Semira responded promptly. "Quantum Siphon Boy Band: Signed under Metaverse Entertainment. Data performance over the last three months:

- Core audience: Males aged 25-35 make up 82.7% (64% of whom have installed hormone regulation firmware).

- Average per-livestream gift revenue (converted to G Coins): 478,000 (3200% higher than platform average).

- Fan membership penetration rate: 91.4% (Platinum membership annual fee can buy a Level-4 military prosthetic limb...)"

"Cut the stats! Speak human!"

"In the gay community, they're considered lolis."

"Ooooh~," Old Six suddenly realized, enlightened. "Makes sense now."

He glanced upward cautiously. Seeing Oruba swaying along with the livestream music, his mind immediately hatched an escape plan.

"Bro, you really like them, huh? How about we make a deal? I'll figure out a way to get you in intimate, close proximity with them offline, and you erase my debt. How's that sound?"

"You? Can you even pull that off?" Oruba turned from the screen, sneering at Old Six's ingratiating grin.

"Why not? Sure, I'm down on my luck now, but I'm still a streamer! Bro, I'm in the same streamer guild as them!"

"Bro, what do you think? Three days! Give me three days, and I'll give you a chance to make your dreams come true!"

Hearing this, Oruba started to mull it over. He didn't trust Old Six one bit. But when he looked at those cute little guys on screen, desire got the better of him. Why not give it a shot? He wouldn't lose anything.

"Half. I'll give you three days. Pull it off, and I'll erase half your debt, principal and interest."

"Deal! Done!" Old Six agreed without hesitation. All he wanted was to get as far away as possible from the steel rod, like, right now. Everything else could wait.

"Don't even think about running away. I'm keeping you on lockdown." Oruba yanked out a data cable and aggressively plugged it into Old Six's neural port, forcibly injecting a suite of tracking and surveillance viruses.

Only when Oruba's gigantic frame disappeared behind the acid rain curtain did Old Six exhale heavily in relief. He had barely survived this round.

After catching his breath, he immediately called up his go-to hacker, goddamned King Kong.

"Amitabha, Pus Shizhu, did you see the comments in the code? This is a Graffiti Gang virus. If I clean it, their mess becomes my mess. Any hacker you ask will say the same thing." King Kong shrugged, palms up, signaling helplessness.

"Shift!" Old Six cursed bitterly, resigned to facing the issue on his own again.

If he couldn't run, he seemingly had only two options: convince the boy band's chubby guys or handle the Black Ghost.

Thinking about the sheer number of combat prosthetics he'd scanned on Black Ghost—enough to need extra pages—Old Six realized he really only had one choice.

"Hello? Metaverse Entertainment? I'm willing to sign the strictest contract with you guys and debut as a boy band idol to pay off my debt."

"What? Do you have any standout talents?"

"Does my Second One talent count?"