Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 825: Art

*Clap! Clap! Clap!*

Scarlet’s wine bottle sat on the side table where she’d set it down without realizing, the rim still wet.

The Flame Monarch was leaning forward with both hands repeatedly clapping together, eyes wide, mouth working open and closed without producing a single word.

The woman who taunted S-tier monsters to their faces and delivered battlefield speeches that moved armies had been reduced to a goldfish impression, and she seemed dimly aware of this fact without being able to do anything about it.

Then... A tear slipped down her cheek.

Just one, quick and bright, and she caught it with the back of her wrist before pressing both palms together in one final, slow clap.

"I came in here expecting one thing," she said, her voice rough. "Debauchery of the flesh. Skin slapping skin. A big dick going in and out of five moaning chicks."

"...Why big?" Luna asked from his thigh, both hands still buried in his hair, breathing hard, the floor beneath her moist slit dangerously soaked.

It was a straight-up slipping hazard.

Scarlet waved a hand dismissively. "One look at your guy and I knew he was packing."

Luna grinned, tired yet unfairly gorgeous. "Fair."

"As I was saying." Scarlet’s voice hadn’t smoothed out.

She looked at the five of them on the bed, slick and flushed. "This was nothing like that. Not even close." She leaned back and crossed her arms beneath her chest. "Now I understand why you people break records every time you do something. You’re not having sex. You’re making art in real time."

— InfernoScarlet: Miss Scarlet has EXCELLENT taste!! I knew following her here would be worth it!!

— FlameMommySimp: I came expecting the usual... Lady Scarlet being badass, saving some weak kids from a dungeon they thought they could take... but I ended up finding real treasure 🥺

— ScarletDevotee: If the FLAME MONARCH is shedding tears then what chance do we normal girls have??

— BurnBright99: Three years following Lady Scarlet across every stream she’s guested on. First time she’s shown emotion like this!

— FlameHeartXO: Converting to dual citizenship... Flame Mommy AND Blood Knight content?? Sign me up!

Scarlet’s own fangirls, drawn to the stream by her presence in the Dungeon Master Duel, were falling one by one.

Kaiden’s eyes found Scarlet’s across the room, and the word "art" made him grin.

It felt weird to him as well... Having a woman just watch, especially one of her own caliber.

But he would be lying if he didn’t feel his chest burn bright at the high praise, especially because his girls were involved.

Scar was exactly right.

Whatever these amazing existences decided to do would never be anything mundane.

He remembered the start.

When Valhalla’s Sinners was small and every upload was met with the same filthy callouts toward his girls: prostitutes, hoes, sluts.

Five shameless women selling their bodies for views.

Anonymous users hammering the same insults at five girls who were pouring their hearts into something no one had ever seen before.

And now the Flame Monarch sat in their bedroom with a tear on her cheek, calling what they did art.

He looked at Aria, silver hair spilling across his chest, fingers still tracing the sealed fracture at his shoulder because she could not stop taking care of him even after riding an overwhelming orgasm.

At Luna, wrecked and gorgeous on his thigh, running her mouth about dick size with her own orgasm still dripping down her legs.

At Nyx, cheek against his long erection, wearing that quiet smile she saved for moments when she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Every touch they gave him was so real it hurt.

That was the thing the early comment sections never understood and millions of women could see through a screen.

The beauty was surface. What poured through and into the hearts of every woman watching was the love underneath, so genuine and so full that it couldn’t stay between six people.

Kaiden was just a man. He showed up, he loved them, and he tried his best to make them feel as good as they made him feel. That was everything he had to give.

But his girls were true artists.

Or so he believed.

His girls would disagree with the part about him, though.

’Luckiest man alive,’ he thought, and it was truer now than it had ever been.

Then Scarlet’s words made him remember something else.

’Right. The numbers.’

He’d forgotten.

For a few genuine minutes, tangled in his girls with the taste of them still on his tongue, he had completely forgotten why they were doing this, and the fact that five women could wipe a doorstep Kaiju from his mind said everything about them that Scarlet’s art metaphor was trying to.

He pulled the system window behind his vision where the stream couldn’t see it.

[Phase Time Remaining: 30:02.]

Ten minutes had been burned on foreplay. He braced for the worst.

[Views: 5,441,830,074 ➝ 6,108,221,947]

[Income: 18,672,400 ➝ 25,104,600]

[Fangirls: 4,694,100 ➝ 5,091,400]

[System Rank-Up Requirements --- Tier 3 ➝ Tier 4]

[Views: 7,695,048,107]

[Income: 50,000,000]

[Fangirls: 10,000,000]

’Huh?’

Income and fangirls were running ahead of projections.

So many women watching premium content with the donation button glowing in the corner of their feeds moved that kind of money fast, and the fangirl conversion rate was outpacing weeks of back-catalog grinding in a single sitting.

Both numbers were beyond his wildest estimates, but he could at least trace them from live viewership to donations to conversions and arrive at roughly where the counters sat.

They were far more than he expected, but at least he could understand.

However.

Views were always going to be the wall.

Seven-point-seven billion was roughly Earth’s population as a target, and twenty-seven million viewers with thirty minutes on the clock couldn’t scratch it through pure viewership alone. Income and fangirls he could grind.

Views needed something he didn’t have: time.

Except the counter read six-point-one billion, and it was still climbing.

Over six hundred million new views in ten minutes.

He watched it tick. Six-point-eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

Rising with a velocity that had nothing to do with anyone in this bedroom, because twenty-seven million live viewers could not produce this number in this timeframe.