Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine - Chapter 79

Chapter 79: Strange is Vixen, Strange is the SMPE
… click────CLACK!!

The long, marble-floored hallway on the third floor of the convention center echoed faintly with the click of Vixen’s heeled boots.

Her sexy figure moved with undeniable grace as her massive hips swayed side to side in a rhythm so enticing it seemed almost hypnotic.

The women gathered near the changing rooms weren’t blind to her presence.

“God, look at what she’s wearing…”

“Doesn’t she care about hiding her body? Or is this her idea of ‘charm’?”

“Pathetic…”

“She probably thinks the only way she’ll ever compete is by showing off her body. Shameless.”

The murmurs continued, but Vixen didn’t bother to stop or even look at them.

… Sigh~

These women were nothing more than insecure and jealous.

She knew exactly why they couldn’t stand her.

It was because she made them feel small.

『Heh… they should keep feeling that way. It only makes me feel even better about myself.』

Her stunning beauty, her rising popularity, and the big sponsorship deals she was landing—all the things they could only wish for—made her a threat to their fragile egos.

Still, her patience had limits.

As she brought her phone to her ear, she clicked her tongue softly and muttered.

“Tch──clowns…”

Before resuming her confident and elegant steps.

“Miss Vixen, I trust you’ve reviewed our offer…”

Came the smooth yet insistent voice of the director on the other end. The man spoke like someone who’d done this so many times it could be considered second-nature.

“Eisenrad Motors is prepared to make you the face of our next global campaign. It’s a rare opportunity—our initial offer still stands at $35 million. I doubt you’ll find anything better, even after the SMPE concludes.”

Vixen sighed as her pretty, golden-furred ears twitched in annoyance.

“Mr. Kohler, it’s not about whether the money’s good enough. Frankly, it’s more than I could’ve asked for as a rookie. But my goal as a hero isn’t to sell out my dignity. I’ll make this simple: either you adjust the contract terms, or I’ll shift my focus to smaller, more respectable companies.”

A brief silence came after, and then Kohler’s tone grew sharper.

“With all due respect, Miss Vixen, you’re new to this world. You say you’re turning down lucrative deals, but let’s not forget—you’re a nobody without us. Do you know how many unsponsored heroes are forced into obscurity? Look at your sister, Foxgirl. She spent years struggling before she—well…”

He chuckled bitterly.

“We both know how she finally made a name for herself, don’t we?”

Vixen’s pace came to a sudden halt.

Her body tensed, and her claws instinctively extended as they glinted dangerously. Her fangs broke past her lips, and a low, menacing hiss escaped her throat.

“You dare talk about my sister like that?”

There was enough venom in her voice to break a giant.

“Miss Vixen, I—”

“Shut up…”

Vixen spoke in a flat tone.

“You have no idea what my sister’s gone through! She sacrificed everything just to keep me and our little sister afloat. So watch your mouth when you speak about her!”

The line was silent, and Vixen relished the satisfaction of hearing the director’s shaky breath.

“Listen carefully…”

Her voice was now ice-cold.

“I’m not doing any sexy car commercials in short shorts and a crop top. I’m not stripping down for your horny board members, and I’m certainly not putting myself on display for social media to drool over. If that’s your idea of marketing, you’re working with the wrong hero.”

She paused and her fluffy tail flicked sharply.

“Oh, and by the way—what kind of car company even needs erotic ads to sell vehicles? Pathetic.”

More silence. Kohler had no defense.

“Since you’ve got nothing else to say, this friggin’ conversation’s over.”

With that, she ended the call and slid the phone back into its case on her utility belt.

Before she could even take a breath, a chorus of excited shouts erupted from the far end of the hallway.

“Vixen! It’s Vixen!”

Her ears flattened in annoyance as a mob of male fans came charging toward her. They held up posters of her, some featuring mildly suggestive poses from earlier shoots she’d done. Others waved unofficial merch—shirts, caps, even custom sneakers with her logo.

“Vixen, sign my chest!” one yelled, tugging at his shirt.

“Can I have your panties? Please!” another begged shamelessly.

“Just let me sniff your tail!” a third cried.

Vixen’s woolly tail went stiff.

“Ugh…”

She groaned with a narrow-eyed expression.

“Nope, not today!”

Without hesitation, she bolted at superhuman speeds and turned into a red-and-gold blur. She expertly wove through the hallway as her boots skidded slightly when she rounded a sharp corner.

And that was when she collided—hard—with a tall, broad figure.

“Whoa!”

The young man exclaimed as his fingers instinctively wrapped around both her breasts to steady her.

Vixen stumbled back as her tail bristled in irritation.

She looked up and her sharp retort died on her lips when she saw who it was.

It was a handsome young man.

Scott McQueen.

He had an elegant face split into a lopsided grin.

His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his piercing blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

…

…

…

Scott’s steady hands gripped Vixen’s breasts even after their collision.

There was deep concern on his face.

“Are you okay?”

Anyone would hear the genuine worry in his voice.

Vixen’s cheeks turned crimson while her golden fox eyes widened as she met his gaze. His handsome face was dangerously close, and the sheer intensity of his piercing blue eyes made her heart race. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words tangled on her tongue.

“Uhm, I…”

Her mind screamed for her to move, to say something, to do anything—but her body betrayed her.

Instead, she froze as heat pooled in her lower abdomen.

Her crotch suddenly felt hot and itchy.

Pressing her thighs together, she let out a quiet, barely audible exhale of steam from her parted lips.

“Y-, Yeah, but…”

She started, but her voice barely took off.

Her golden eyes dipped downward instinctively.

Scott blinked and followed her line of sight—straight to his hands.

His hands, which were still firmly gripping her breasts.

Not just gripping, but sinking into the plush softness.

“Oh sh—!”

Scott instantly let go, stumbling back with both hands raised as though he’d touched a live wire.

“I-, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—! You—you appeared out of nowhere, and I just—uh, reflexes! I swear, I wasn’t trying to—”

“… It’s fine. Really…”

Vixen’s quiet response cut through his frantic apology like a skewer through roasted meat.

Scott froze, his jaw slack.

“Wait, what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

Most women would have caused an absolute scene in a situation like this—slapping, shouting, something. But Vixen? She looked away, cheeks still flushed, her hands fidgeting as she rubbed the side of her arm.

“I said it’s fine…”

She repeated, her voice a little louder this time.

For a woman dressed so provocatively… she sounded oddly shy and innocent.

“You didn’t mean to… so there’s nothing to apologize for. I was the one running recklessly and bumped into you.”

Scott studied her, trying to process what he’d just heard.

“Huh. That’s… new.”

“What’s new?” she asked, almost sounding defensive.

“Well… most women would’ve smacked me into next week for what just happened.”

Vixen huffed as her tail flicked slightly behind her.

“Don’t think too much about it. It’s not like I’m saying I enjoyed it or anything…”

She muttered and folded her arms under her breasts.

Her dramatic gesture made her huge, perky breasts bounce with so much weight and power that Scott actually heard a faint clap.

… boing────PAH!

His eyes involuntarily flicked downward.

“Hey! Are you looking at my breasts?”

Scott’s head snapped back up, his expression neutral but unbothered.

“Well, it’s kind of hard not to. Maybe next time, don’t wear something so tight if you don’t want them getting looked at.”

Vixen shot him a glare, then swept a strand of her brown hair behind her ear with a huff.

“For your information, I’m not saying I have a problem with you looking at them… just stop misinterpreting me all the time. It’s kinda annoying.”

Scott raised a brow as his smirk grew wider.

“Oh? My bad, then──”

Before he could finish, Vixen lunged forward, grabbed his shirt, and slammed him against the wall with surprising strength.

“Whoa, what──!!”

His words were cut off as her lips crushed against his.

Scott’s eyes widened in shock, his body stiffening as her tongue slipped into his mouth, warm and insistent. Her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss as her fluffy tail coiled between them and gently caressed them both by their burning crotches, pressing their bodies even closer.

Now, Scott could feel the full size and softness of Vixen’s perfect breasts against his chest, and even the gentle poke of her nipples from underneath her bodysuit.

… dum! dum!! DUMM!!

Heavy footsteps thundered past as her mob of fans sprinted down the hall, oblivious to the two locked in an intense, breathless kiss.

When the coast was clear, Vixen broke the kiss.

She quickly pulled back and gasped for air as her fox ears twitched in agitation.

Still dazed, Scott blinked at her.

“What the hell was that for?!”

Vixen waved her hand dismissively.

“Relax, I only did it to avoid those crazy fans.”

Her golden eyes narrowed slightly as her usually foxy expression turned unimpressed.

“Besides, it’s not like I enjoyed the kiss or anything.”

Scott leaned casually against the wall.

“Oh, yeah? Then why’s your tail wagging?”

Her fluffy tail, traitorous and jubilant, swayed happily behind her like a metronome.

Vixen’s face burned red.

“Tch!”

She stuck her tongue out at him in childish defiance.

“Bleehhhh! The kiss sucked, anyway!”

With that, she spun on her heel and darted off down the hall.

Scott watched her retreating figure, scratching the back of his neck with a wry chuckle.

“Weirdest fox girl I’ve ever met…”

He paused to think for a moment.

“Hope cat girls aren’t as strange as her.”

And with that, he turned and headed in the opposite way.

━ ━ ━ ━

Scott made his way back to the first floor.

This was the heart of the “rookie showcase” where newbie heroes desperately tried to make a name for themselves.

The goal wasn’t purely monetary—though plenty of booths had price tags slapped on every item.

No, this was about proving marketability.

The more sales and fan engagement a hero garnered, the higher their stock rose in the eyes of scouting agents from mega-companies.

Booths lined the hall in varying degrees of extravagance.

Some heroes had clearly put their all into their setups… custom lighting, holographic displays, and sleek merchandise that practically screamed “buy me!” Others were far more modest, their tables covered in secondhand fabric with cheap keychains and stickers spread out like a desperate plea for attention.

Scott squeezed through the busy crowd as his sharp eyes caught every detail.

One hero, in a homemade cape that looked suspiciously like a tablecloth, was enthusiastically pitching her “special-edition” comic book to anyone who would stop and listen.

That female superhero was Gadget Girl.

Perhaps more men would have visited her booth, which was cluttered with so many junky inventions, if she didn’t look so messy and unkempt in the worst possible way.

Across from her, a guy with LED lights stitched into his black trench coat was flipping energy cards in the air as part of his power demonstration.

That male superhero was Ruse.

[These heroes’ names have been registered…]

Scott’s eyes eventually landed on The Crest’s booth.

Or rather, The Peak’s booth—since no one seemed to care about The Crest.

A swarm of women surrounded the table, screaming, squealing, and fighting to get closer to The Peak.

“Can I touch your medal──?!”

“Please! Just one of your signature poses!”

“Flex some of those big, strong arms of yours and choke me with them already!”

“I just need to breathe the same air as my heroic prince!”

The woman shouted as she desperately shoved her way to the front.

The Peak stood at the center of it all, grinning ear to ear while his phone on a selfie stick streamed the chaos to his audience.

“Alright, chat!”

He flexed his muscular arm as the crowd of women shrieked even louder.

“The Peak is here to serve! The people need me, and who am I to deny my fans a little bit of glory?”

The stream chat didn’t waste time.

[Can’t believe girls actually fight over this guy lmao.]

└ [I wish it were something to laugh about. 💀]

└ [They’re not okay. Someone send help.]

└ [Nah, they just blinded by all that gold. 💀]

[These women gotta be a bunch of gold diggers fr °~°]

[Why Crest in the corner looking like he just got his Happy Meal stolen?]

The camera briefly panned to The Crest, who sat slumped at the side of the booth, staring gloomily at an action figure of himself that no one had even glanced at, let alone bought. He muttered something under his breath, his chubby fingers poking at the figure’s head.

[Bro really said, “It’s my turn to be famous.”]

[The Crest? More like Depressed.]

└ [Bahahaha, good one. 😂]

[Big Mac’s final evolution looking real sad rn.]

[$100 Donation: Someone buy his figure, man. I feel bad.]

…

Scott sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

This was a circus.

As he moved away from the booth, he approached a pale, wiry man with thick glasses.

“Hey. Do you know where Psyche’s booth is?”

Scott kept his question simple.

The man, Po, adjusted his glasses and gave Scott an exaggeratedly baffled look.

“Who the hell is Psyche? Nah, man, I came here for Miss Infinity! I’ve been dreaming about that white-haired, mean bitch, big titty, tomboy all fucking week!”

“Miss Infinity?” Scott raised an eyebrow.

Behind Po, his nephew Dip—covered in orange chip dust—chimed in lazily.

“You don’t know her? She’s, like, Russia’s next big hero. She’s the future of the Hero Agency, bro.”

Scott frowned. “Irina Golovin…”

Po pulled out a shiny golden ticket from his pocket and waved it in Scott’s face.

“That’s right! I paid a hundred bucks for me and my nephew to enter the VIP hall. Only the lucky few get to see Miss Infinity up close! Totally worth it, man.”

Scott blinked. “Wait, she has a special hall just for her?”

Po scoffed.

“Obviously! She’s one of the Four Prodigies of Skyfort Academy. She’s not some bargain-bin rookie like these other no-names.”

He grinned and pushed his glasses up.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to get a taste of those milky measurements!”

With that, Po sprinted toward the VIP hall doors at full speed. Dip waved half-heartedly at Scott before trudging after his uncle, still munching on his chips.

Scott frowned. Something about this didn’t sit right.

“Brigid’s one of the Four Prodigies too, so why wasn’t she given a VIP hall?”

He scanned the area.

『No…』

His eyes landed on a plain, unremarkable booth tucked into the corner of the room. There stood Brigid, arms crossed and looking deeply unimpressed, while Marcus gestured wildly at passersby as his frustration practically radiated off him.

Scott tilted his head, puzzled.

“What’s going on here…?”