Savior with Expiration Date

Trinity's false eyelashes were hooked by Radiant Cockroach Legs when the number of people online at the same time on the live stream shot past 100,000 people.

"Old timers double tap to light up the red heart!" She disliked the GoPro camera to the writhing insect's abdominal cavity, "This shit is chewier than a Michelin tire..."

Rule 103: All live streaming proceeds are subject to a 30% canning tax.Luna's mechanical fingers tapped the keyboard and watched the virtual gifts soaring on the monitor screen - "Acid Rain Superfire" was a melted credit card, "Radiation Carnival" was a pixelated cake made of eyeballs, and the most expensive "God of Doom" gift was a dolphin that had been flayed and swam through the air. The most expensive "God of Doom" gift effect was a skinned dolphin swimming through the air.

"Thanks to 'Convenience Store Lickers' for the Phantom God!" Trinity picks up the deformed mouthparts of the cockroach's abdomen with tweezers, "This performs eating human teeth raw..."

Her voice was suddenly interrupted by a popping sound from the abdomen.

Luna switched to thermal imaging mode and saw the radiated tapeworms coiled in the nettle's intestines, each segment glowing with the fluorescence of a convenience store price tag. The woman had traded in her hymen-repair surgery video for two cans of lunchmeat three days ago, and the absorbable sutures she'd used then still clung to the folds of the intestinal wall.

"Section 104 addendum." She typed the new rule into the electronic contract, "Rewards over a million triggers mandatory advertising agreement."

Trinity's scream came from outside the warehouse. Her apples were melting, the hyaluronic acid injected just yesterday mixed with pus dripping onto the selfie stick. The live feed pop-ups rolled like crazy:

[User_Canned_Messiah: Quick, use menstrual blood on your face!]

[Mordecai Beauty Teacher: Recommend Corpse Oil Essence to stabilize!]

Luna activated her emergency plan when the webmaster shuddered and ripped the hem of her skirt, revealing a barcode tattoo on her inner thigh. A swarm of drones poured out of the ventilation ducts, spelling out a giant tampon advertisement in the air, and menstrual blood simulant poured over Trinity's head, temporarily solidifying her festering face.

"This is the new nighttime radiation shield!" She mechanically recited the copy on the teleprompter, "Side leaks against acid rain, back leaks against nuclear blasts..."

The deal breaks down as the viewing volume peaks.

Trinity abruptly rips off her wig, revealing an anti-convenience store slogan tattooed on her scalp. She pulls her spare cell phone from her chest cavity, the camera trained on the warehouse vent, "Watch this, Families! The so-called savior is a..."

The moment the bullet pierces her tongue, Luna recognizes it as Jax's modification - the tip of the bullet is inlaid with a convenience store logo carved from her mother's milk teeth.The feed goes black in gore, finally settling on Trinity's shattered jaw, teeth arranged in the air in the word "SALE".

"Rule number 105." Luna dragged the Netflix's corpse into the freight elevator, "All offending anchors are automatically converted to advertising carriers."

In the processing room, robotic arms are breaking down Trinity's remains. Ribs are made into cell phone holders, layers of fat are refined into live-streaming lightening wax, and vocal mucosa is made into erotic ASMR tracks. As Luna embeds her left eyeball in a holographic projector, the final images before death play on the warehouse facade:

"Attention is faith, sharing is salvation!"

Remaining fans begin to gather outside the ruins. They used lipstick to paint pop-ups all over the bulletproof glass, the most eye-catching one reading:

[User_End_of_Age_Romeo: Trade my prostate for a piece of her toe bone!]

The deal was struck at midnight.

As the man cupped Trinity's toe and sobbed, Luna spotted an anomaly in the backend data stream-80% of those reward accounts belonged to the convenience store's HQ AI. the deepest IP addresses showed that Trinity's live script had been generated by an algorithm 72 hours before she'd broken.

"Rule 106." She smeared the gray matter of the Netflix's brain on the surveillance camera:

"When the audience becomes an actor, turn the stage into an incinerator."

The warehouse suddenly loses power.

The moment the emergency lights come on, Luna sees a clone of Trinity standing between the shelves. This replica in a revealing dress was flying kisses into the void, "Thanks to 'Want Luna's Womb' for the carnival! Performing a raw eating of my own appendix next..."

The clone's blood splatters into QR codes on the wall as the gun goes off. The page that popped up after scanning it read:

"You have subscribed to 'Canned Goddess Passion Live' with a daily deduction of 2 cans of green beans."

Moonlight cuts through the bullet holes as Luna drips the first drop of menstrual blood of the night on the rulebook. In the distance came the audition broadcast of the new webcam, accompanied by the stereo surround sound of radiated cockroaches gnawing at the skull.