All Chapters of My Secret TikTok Life: Family Disgrace to Global Kingmaker: Chapter 11
- Chapter 20
25 chapters
Chapter 11: The Hunger
The subway doors hissed shut, and the 4:15 AM train pulled away, leaving the station in a ringing, lonely silence. The adrenaline that had kept me upright during the confrontation with Jaximus was evaporating, replaced by a cold, hollow ache that started in my marrow and settled in my stomach.I tried to stand, but my knees gave a pathetic wobble. My "Pariah" body was hitting its limit."You’re bleeding again," Elara said. She was standing a few feet away, her guitar case clutched against her chest like a shield. She looked at me with deep suspicion, her eyes darting from my bloodied lip to my neon green shoes. "Who are you? Are you a stalker? One of those weird 'creeper' accounts?"I leaned my back against the pillar, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold tiles. The Heart of Ice hummed
Chapter 12: The Editing Room (The Library)
The steps of the Central Library were made of cold, uncompromising granite. I sat on the edge of the highest tier, huddled in the shadow of a stone lion, waiting for the clock to hit 9:00 AM. The morning air was damp and biting, but the rain had finally stopped, leaving the city draped in a grey, metallic light.I was shaking. It wasn't just the cold; it was the biological bill of the last thirty-six hours coming due. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw phantom images of the Bakar gala—the marbled steaks, the towers of champagne, the casual waste of a thousand-dollar appetizer. My stomach didn't even growl anymore; it had moved past sound into a deep, hollow ache that felt like a physical void in my center.[Physical Integrity: 12%] [Warning: Sync Stability Dropping. Immedia
Chapter 13: The First Upload
The air in the library felt thin, as if the thousands of books surrounding me were breathing in the same oxygen I needed to stay conscious. My vision was no longer a clear window; it was a fragmented mosaic of flickering gold data and the dull, grey reality of the library’s carpet.[Warning: Physical Integrity 5%] [System Note: Adrenaline Depleted. Heart of Ice reaching its cooling limit.]"Just… one… more… thing," I whispered, my fingers dragging across the cracked screen.The video was ready. I had titled it: The Voice of the 4:00 AM Shadow. I wasn't just relying on luck. I activated Viral Foresight
Last Updated : 2026-01-14Read more
Chapter 14: The 1,000-Yard Stare
The granite steps of the library were cold, but the park bench was worse.I didn't remember being moved. The transition from the library floor to the hard, damp wooden slats of a bench in Bryant Park was a blur of rough hands and the smell of wet pavement. I was drifting in a feverish, semi-conscious state where the line between reality and memory had dissolved entirely.I was back at the gala.The air was warm and smelled of expensive cedarwood and roasted lamb. My father was standing at the head of the table, his hand resting on Marcus’s shoulder. They were laughing—a rich, deep sound that felt like it was made of gold coins. In front of me was a plate of Wagyu steak, the juices shimmering under the crystal chandeliers. I reached for a fork, my mouth watering with a desperation that felt like fire.But as my finger
Chapter 15: The Modeling Gaffe
The world had changed by four points.That was the only way I could describe it. Since waking up on that park bench and seeing the 500,000 views, the air felt less like a physical weight on my shoulders. My Influence Level sat at -45. I was still a "Ghost," but I was no longer a "Pariah." When I walked past a hot dog vendor this morning, he didn't look through me with the vacant stare of a man avoiding a corpse; he gave me a curt, suspicious nod.It wasn't respect, but it was acknowledgment. I existed again.My stomach, however, didn't care about digital metrics. It was a screaming, acidic pit. I had found a discarded, half-full bottle of orange juice in a trash can near the library—a "find" that would have made the old Salim vomit, but which the new Salim consumed with the mechanical efficie
Chapter 16: The Humiliation Tax
The laughter of the film crew felt like a physical assault, a wave of noise that echoed off the polished glass of the Meatpacking District’s boutiques. I stood at the edge of the set, my feet burning in those neon green shoes, the glare of the industrial reflectors making my eyes water. Marcus was halfway back to his director’s chair, but he stopped, a sudden, "generous" thought seemingly crossing his mind."Wait, wait," Marcus called out, turning back with a flourish. "I'm being rude. I forgot that the Bakar family is known for its philanthropy."He reached into the pocket of his cream-colored trousers and pulled out a designer wallet. With two fingers, he extracted a crisp, twenty-dollar bill. He held it up, letting the morning sun catch the green ink. The crew went silent, sensing another performance."You look like you haven't eaten since the da
Chapter 17: The Secret Weapon
The darkness didn't last as long this time. Perhaps the Heart of Ice was getting better at managing my failing biological systems, or perhaps the sheer high of the sabotage had acted as a digital stimulant. I opened my eyes to find the brick alleyway bathed in a strange, flickering glow.I wasn't alone."You look like you're dying," a voice said. It was Elara. She was standing over me, her battered guitar case slung over her shoulder. She looked different than she had in the subway; she looked like someone who had spent the last six hours watching her own face explode across every social media platform in the city. Her phone was clutched in her hand, the screen glowing with a constant stream of notifications."I'm... managing," I rasped, pushing myself up against the damp bricks.
Last Updated : 2026-01-16Read more
Chapter 18: The Bakar Group Panic
The shift from the damp, quiet alleyway to the 52nd-floor boardroom of the Bakar Tower was jarring. In the alley, the only sound was Elara’s breathing and the distant city hum. Here, the air was conditioned to a perfect 68 degrees, smelling of expensive leather and panic.The "Golden Cage" was in a state of absolute meltdown.I wasn't there in person, but I didn't need to be. My burner phone was dead, but the System’s "Ghost Interface" remained projected in my field of vision, hovering like a translucent heads-up display. It allowed me to see the digital ripples I had created. I could see the Bakar Group’s internal metrics cratering in real-time.On the massive mahogany table in the boardroom, twenty high-end tablets were synced to a central projector. The lead marketing director, a man named Henderson who used to mock my "little internet hobb
Chapter 19: The Ghost’s Commission
The golden data from the Ghost Interface flickered and finally dissolved into the darkness of the alley. Seeing my father’s composure shatter through a HUD was better than any meal, but it didn't fix the fact that my stomach was currently a void of battery acid and air.I looked at Elara. She was staring at her phone, her thumb scrolling so fast it was a blur. "Salim, it’s not stopping. My mentions... there are labels, indie producers, even some late-night talk show scout. They’re all asking the same thing: Who is representing you?""You tell them no one," I said, my voice cracking as I leaned against the brick. "Not yet. An unanswered mystery is worth ten times more than a signed contract in the first hour."[Influence Level: -40]
Last Updated : 2026-01-17Read more
Chapter 20: The Laundromat Interview
The "Spin-Cycle" laundromat on 4th Street was the perfect place for two people who didn't exist to meet. It was 2:00 AM, and the air was thick with the scent of industrial bleach and the humid heat of a dozen industrial dryers. I sat on a bolted-down plastic chair, my hood up, watching the reflection of the door in the glass of a front-loading washer.I felt significantly better than I had an hour ago. The protein shakes and energy bars I’d bought at the bodega had finally stabilized my blood sugar, and my Physical Integrity was holding steady. I had a few chocolate bars left in my pocket, but the $150 commission from Elara was essentially gone, traded for the calories I needed just to stand up straight.The door creaked open, and a man shuffled in. He was wearing an oversized parka and clutched the straps of a faded hiking
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