Mark, a man in his early thirties who looked like he weighed close to 500 pounds, slammed his fist on the desk holding his gaming PC. "Damn it! That rich little punk!" he roared. He'd just been killed yet again by another player who clearly had more money than skill.
The game's death screen mocked him, displaying the notification that his territory, the one he'd painstakingly built over months, was now gone, conquered by the player who'd just defeated him.
"These greedy developers ruined this game!" Mark shouted, his anger boiling over with no outlet. He slumped back in his chair, the worn furniture groaning under his weight. His eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"My life is screwed. How am I supposed to pay my bills? What kind of stupid life is this? Why does everything I enjoy turn into a nightmare?" he mumbled. First, it was his job, then his girlfriend, and now the game he relied on for both enjoyment and income was ruined.
The thought of ending it all flickered in his mind, a dark impulse he'd wrestled with before. He'd even tried once. But he knew he wouldn't go through with it again.
He sat up, his gaze returning to the monitor. A frown deepened on his face. "Only fifty viewers and no donations at all," he sighed, a mixture of pain and disappointment twisting in his gut. He didn't blame his viewers; he blamed the greedy game developers.
It all started five days ago when the developers of Emperor's Crucible introduced a pay-to-win feature, turning the game on its head. Now, rich kids with no real skill could spend thousands of dollars on evolution points, using them to rapidly upgrade their territories, troops, and weapons. They could one-shot other players, rendering skill and strategy almost irrelevant. The game had shifted from a test of resilience and planning to a contest of who had the deepest pockets.
Mark stared at the screen, his mind wandering back to the events that led him to this point, to a time just six months ago when his life had been so much better.
He had a decent job as a developer for a small company. The pay wasn't amazing, but it was enough to live comfortably and enjoy a few luxuries. Things were going well. He had a good job, and his workplace crush, Anna, had accepted his proposal. Life was good, or so he thought, until six months ago, when everything changed.
One evening, Mark finished his work early, including a significant portion of Anna's workload. As a self-conscious man with a beautiful girlfriend, Mark went out of his way to please Anna, often taking on extra tasks to make her life easier.
Feeling generous with his extra free time, Mark decided to surprise Anna with a visit to her apartment, even picking up flowers along the way. But when he pulled up outside her building, he was met with a sight that stole his breath and shattered his world.
Leaning against his own car, kissing Anna passionately, was their boss, Gary.
Mark's world crumbled. He tried to confront them, but Anna's cruel words still echoed in his ears.
"Did you really think someone like me would date someone like *you*? A fat nobody with nothing to offer?" she'd laughed. "You're way out of my league. You were just a convenient puppy to lighten my workload. I only date *real* men." She punctuated her words with another kiss for Gary.
The truth of her words hit Mark hard. They hadn't really been dating at all. Anna had always insisted on keeping their relationship secret to avoid workplace drama, an excuse Mark had readily accepted. But there had been no genuine affection, no hand-holding, let alone kissing. He'd been a fool, blinded by his infatuation and failing to see the glaring signs.
Adding insult to injury, Gary seemed oblivious to Mark's pain, continuing to kiss Anna with a cocky smirk, clearly enjoying the spectacle. This was the breaking point for Mark, leading him to make the biggest mistake of his life: attacking Gary.
Not only did he embarrass himself, stumbling and falling under his own weight like a cartoon character, but the altercation also cost him his job. This led him to his current, precarious career as a streamer.
After losing his job, Mark needed a new source of income. He turned to gaming, the one thing he'd always been good at, the one thing he'd been passionate about for as long as he could remember.
That's when he found Emperor's Crucible, a game set in the world of Aetherium, where players start with a small territory and must grind to build up their power and influence.
Mark excelled at the game, attracting thousands of viewers and earning enough through donations to support himself. This lasted for a few months, until the new pay-to-win features were introduced, upending the game's balance and costing many skilled players, like Mark, everything. Skill was no longer the deciding factor; it was all about who could spend the most money.
As these memories flashed through his mind, a notification popped up on his monitor, snapping him back to reality. The game developers were asking him to review their game.
Without hesitation, fueled by the anger burning in his heart, Mark clicked "yes" and began typing.
⭐️☆☆☆☆
/Garbage game, greedy developers. Rich kids with zero skill dominate the game. No skill required whatsoever. If I could give this less than one star, I would. This game is a complete waste of time./
Mark posted his scathing review, venting his frustration. But before he could turn off his monitor, a reply appeared, seemingly from the game developers themselves.
⭐️☆☆☆☆
/Garbage game, greedy developer. Rich kids with zero skill dominate the game. No skill required whatsoever. If I could give this less than one star, I would. This game is a complete waste of time./
_Emperor'sCrucibleSupport_
/Do you think your fat ass could do any better?/
Mark blinked. What in the actual hell? When did customer support start talking like internet trolls? He shook his head, dismissing it as a glitch.
Mentally, he answered the question with a resounding "yes." Before the pay-to-win bullshit, he had been ranked in the top 20 players. He knew, without a doubt, that he was more skilled than those rich, unskilled players dominating the game now.
Finally, Mark turned off his monitor and sighed, wondering what to do next. Should he look for another job or find a new game to stream?
His confidence shattered by the incident with Anna and Gary, the prospect of finding a new job, especially one that required interacting with people face-to-face, seemed daunting. He couldn't imagine facing the outside world unless it was for a work-from-home position.
Deciding to postpone that decision, Mark pushed himself up from his chair with some effort and walked towards the window to get some fresh air and look out at the city below. Staring at a screen all day could be suffocating.
As he stood there, something caught his eye: a projectile hurtling towards him at an alarming speed.
Unbeknownst to Mark, a truck carrying steel rods had just crashed in front of his apartment building. The rods, improperly secured, were flung in all directions. One of them was headed straight for him.
Mark didn't have time to react. The steel rod smashed through the window and into his skull, killing him instantly.
---
In a grand, opulent palace, a group of gods watched a screen displaying the scene of the truck accident and Mark's untimely demise. Their faces were etched with shock.
"That," one of the gods finally managed to say, "was a trick shot."