Sponsor System: Harem With Infinite Money

16 people in the live broadcast room is a bit shabby.

This is the result of a new and fresh anchor with no team, and no agency behind him.

It's hard to be popular without spending money on publicity, after all, no one knows how beautiful you are in real life.

It's not that no company was looking for her, but their words hinted at unspoken rules, and the contract was basically a contract of selling one's body. How could Yana, who was so smart, be fooled?

Ryan's sense of justice suddenly exploded, feeling it was unfair for her. He squinted his eyes, thought for a moment, and suddenly came up with an idea.

"Ding... Dear user, the amount you wish to recharge is too large. We have matched you with the corresponding channel."

He casually tried to top up hundred thousand, but to his surprise, it was rejected. However, a so-called VIP specialist immediately contacted him.

"Hello, Mr. Ryan. We have implemented the anti-money laundering law and reject any form of improper fund usage."

"If you are an agency or a guild organization, I will transfer you to a specialized handling department. Everything will be based on contracts."

Ryan chuckled and directly replied, "Private. Not an agency, not a guild. I just want to spend and sleep with an internet celebrity."

In real life, he's extremely shy, but online, you may call him the Invincible God of War.

In reality, he speaks meekly, but online, he strikes hard with confidence.

The customer service representative was stunned and replied, "Mr. Ryan, this is your right, but I must reconfirm that any gifts you purchase after recharging will not be refunded in any form."

"And your funds must come from a legal source."

"I don't care about that little bit of money. Also, if you're worried, feel free to monitor my account."

"The most important thing is, it's only hundred thousand. Why are you making such a fuss? Open up a bigger recharge channel for me."

The customer service cautiously replied, "Dear Mr. Ryan, how much do you plan to recharge?"

"At least hundred thousand in one go."

Hearing this, the customer service chuckled, suspecting that this guy was just showing off.

You see, rich people are everywhere. Second-generation officials and wealthy heirs can be found on every street, but money is not as casual as one might think.

Even those worth billions find it difficult to pull out one billion in cash flow. For someone worth one hundred million, withdrawing one million in cash would still require careful consideration of their capital chain.

The platform's controls are very strict, primarily to prevent money laundering and avoid unnecessary trouble.

"Alright, Mr. Ryan, I will now open a hundred- thousand-level recharge channel for you."

As soon as the words fell, Ryan recharge page was instantly opened. Without a moment's hesitation, Ryan recharged ten times, adding a total of 1 million to his account.

The customer service was completely dumbfounded. "Mr. Ryan, why did you recharge so much?"

In her experience, there were very few actual tycoons. Those who recharged this much money were usually economic companies or guilds.

Even if it wasn't money laundering, such amounts are usually carefully calculated by financial units and typically require communication with mid-level departments—not something that would ever be handled by a junior customer service representative.

"I already told you, it's for sleeping with an internet celebrity. Why don't you start a live stream? I can be your top supporter on the leaderboard."

Ryan teased her without restraint, then grinned as he looked at the massive amount of virtual currency now sitting in his account.

Ryan's quickly opened Yana's live broadcast room. The situation was slightly better this time, with over 30 viewers present. However, most of the comments were teasing and playful.

It seemed that many of the viewers were Yana's acquaintances, likely students from Griffith University.

Despite having so many admirers, her live stream had pitifully few fans, making her situation seem downright tragic.

As soon as Ryan entered the live room, Yana stopped playing her instrument and gently said, "Dear viewers, as per my contract, even without a PK session, I still need to connect with other streamers for a certain amount of time each night."

"Let's see if we can connect with a popular influencer."

The screen flickered as it displayed a "connecting" message. Moments later, Yana was connected to a male streamer.

"Wow, sis, you're so pretty! How many levels of beauty filters are you using?"

A middle-aged, greasy-looking man bluntly commented as soon as the connection began. He then sneered, "Why don't you stop streaming altogether? With your tiny fan base, you won't make any money. Since your Photoshop skills are so good, I could introduce you to work at a media company."

Yana was instantly annoyed, but she forced a smile to maintain her image and calmly replied, "You're joking, sir. I don't even know how to use filters, let alone beauty-enhancing effects."

"So, you're a talent streamer?"

The middle-aged man scoffed and said, "Why not become my apprentice? You could stream some games, act a bit coquettish, call viewers 'big brother,' and people might reward you."

"Look at you now—no gifts at all. How do you expect to survive like this?"

Ryan glanced at the greasy man's stream. He was a game streamer who specialized in League Of Legends. As expected greasy man.

He was fairly skilled and considered a mid-tier influencer, with close to a thousand concurrent viewers.

Although he didn't have any wealthy fans, smaller rewards from his audience came in constantly. Over the course of a night, he could likely earn a few thousand.

In contrast, Yana's live room was indeed barren. With just a handful of viewers—many of whom were leaving—and no visible gifts, her stream felt utterly desolate.

Yana suppressed her anger and said, "No need, I'm not short on money."

At this moment, over a dozen of Yana's loyal followers rushed over to the greasy man's stream to hurl insults:

"Hey, greasy dude, watch your mouth! Do you think everyone's a pathetic internet beggar like you?"

"Exactly! Our goddess doesn't need beauty filters; she's the campus queen, okay?"

"Yeah, look at you—fat and foul-mouthed with that big, greasy face."

Although there were only a few of them, the greasy man's room moderators quickly muted and banned them. Their insults were drowned out almost instantly by the flood of comments in the greasy man's bustling chat.

Still, the greasy man noticed their remarks. With a smirk, he immediately activated the PK mode with a "ding" sound.