The Heist

>It's late
>You're tired, hungry, and running out of options.
>Bills are piling up, due to poor decisions made in the presence of Tanukis.
>Thankfully, you've still got power and Internet connectivity.
>Something about 'every home needing a means of gaining inspiration in the bedroom.'
>As if you had anyone to get inspired for.
>No, what you've got is a reasonably decent apartment, a growing debt, and a Succuvirus-infested computer.
>No luck purging the system, the protection programs fell like wet tissue paper.
>It's not all bad.
>The machine's actually running faster now than it did brand-new.
>Something about the virus not wanting a messy home full of junk.
>Still, you need a means of money, or even the computer will have to go.
>You grab a cheap microwave burrito thing and open your web browser.  Email's got little other than the usual spam.
>One item pops out, mainly due to Succuvirus visually pulling out of the spambin and opening it up.
>"Hey!  Do you want money?  Do you have low self-esteem, or crippling debt that limits your ability to be picky?"
>"Well, have we got the job for you!  All you need are the 'Three C's' - a Computer, a Camera, and a Connection!"
>"Don't have the 'Three C's?'  Well, you must be a wizard or something.  Don't worry, well send you equipment, for the low, low price of two weeks' pay!"
>"Reply now, and get started on the path to fame*, fortune^, and other amazing opportunities`!"
>And of course, the fine print.  Thankfully, you can zoom in on electronic documents.
>"*Fame relative to view count.  ^Fortune relevant to actions performed and viewer choice.  `Opportunities as determined by viewer request."
>"No purchase necessary, void in certain territories.  User details may be given out at employer's discretion."
>...Was this written by a Wurm?
>Fuck it. you're not picky, and you do have the equipment needed.  Pride doesn't put food on your plate.
>You send in a response, and immediately - as in, the moment the message goes out - receive further information.
>A package also arrives at your front door, courtesy the Cheshire Courier service.
>They're annoying and obsessed with memes, but their propensity for insane delivery speed makes them invaluable.
>The package contains various supplies for making a room look halfway decent and workable for audio/video work.
>Curtains and drapes, sound muffling foam, that sort of stuff.
>There's some more bedroom-related gear, but you pay it little mind, focusing on getting things set up.
>A couple hours later, things almost look decent.  Still shabby, but in the 'lived-in' way, not the 'falling-apart' way.
>The next day, you get started whoring yourself out on the camera.
>It's...not too bad, actually.  Most of the time, you're inundated with too many conflicting requests to do anything too risque, so it amounts to a bunch of mamono watching you move around.
>Once in a while the mob gets an idea and demands it as one, like that one time they all demanded you act out a part from some romance novel.
>Then there was the time a Cheshire started posting JoJo poses, and that became your entire day.
>Weeks pass, and not much changes; you still do stupid shit for money, but it never goes very far, either the actions or the cash.
>The service that you're basically working for skims a lot of your earnings.  It's based on a percent, to boot, so the more you earn, the more they take.
>Soon enough, though, you get a request for a private video.  It's some bored businesswoman, a Werebat.
>She offers a decent amount for your time, slightly more than your asking rate.
>She asks you to turn all the lights on as bright as possible, mostly toward the camera, and describe some actions you'll perform.
>Effectively, you act as a phone sex operator.  It's surreal - the picture-in-picture clearly shows you can't be seen with the excess light overloading the camera, so you laze in your chair while describing lewdity.
>Later, a human woman commissions you to basically act as a yes-man of sorts, gradually getting more shitfaced as she drinks her troubles away.  'Dang Mamono, stealing all the men' being the crux of her grievances.
>Then a Wurm shows up and wants you to act out an episode of 'Super Ultra Living-Armor Warrior Gaiver Zeta.'
>Months pass in this way, alternating between the mobs and the personal sessions.
>It never ceases to amaze you that the only time you ever had to actually strip was when that one Dark Elf demanded a pseudo-BDSM session.
>What the hell are you being advertised as?
>Through all this, your Succuvirus has been watching the whole thing, alternating between quietly laughing her head off and looking at the various clients with a calculating eye.
>Money's still an issue; even with the higher rates of your bizarre personal clients, the service is gouging you.
>There's a lottery every few months, and the drawing's today.
>There's no chance you'll win.  You bought a ticket on a whim, but luck has never been on your side.
>Your Succuvirus has thrown up a dialog box, and a quick click pops it open.
>Well, you're rich now.
>Turns out, destroying your protection software was practice.  Every time you connected to the server, she sent a probe through.
>Eventually she got a foothold in the server itself, making it not detect her, so when the clients were ogling you, she was ogling their systems.
>A quick rifle through their drawers, so to speak, and they were laid as bare to her as their users often wanted you to be.
>Then, all it took was a bit of byte manipulation, and the moment the lottery's numbers were starting to be pulled, she pulled the winning ticket and switched with yours.
>When you ask her about it - the camera is useful for more than just camwhoreing - she laughs it off, saying you'll be able to repay her with a fitting upgrade to the computer's hardware.
>For a moment, you could swear there's another line about wanting a better camera to see you with, but it disappears before she even finishes the sentence.
>There's no way that would be the case, anyway, right?  She's just taking advantage of an opportunity to get a better home, much the same way you did.
>That it benefits you as well is just a convenient accident.
>An hour later, the incredibly smug Cheshire Courier shows up with a package full to the brim with usb-enabled sex toys.