I Became a Malicious Streamer

“Then I take it you’ll be participating in the tournament?”

“Yes…”

“Hmph.”

Sua let out a satisfied little snort, as if she was in a good mood.

Is this what they call a stream of consciousness?

For some reason, I ended up turning on Discord to calm down a visibly upset Sua.

As I fumbled through the call, signing up for the tournament slowly became a given.

Is it because I have a tendency to be easily swayed?

Or is it that Sua is really good at handling people?

No matter how much I think about it, it has to be the latter.

What seemed bothersome was quickly blurred away as Sua kept nagging me about ten million won over and over again.

Ten million.

I can’t resist ten million.

“Okay, please fill out the application form as per the template I sent you~.”

She rushed me, and although I was just talking big, I ended up publicly requesting the application form on the broadcast.

It’s not a difficult task.

I just need to write what’s in the template Sua sent me.

“When did you start the show, and what’s your broadcasting experience? Do I even have any broadcasting experience?”

[Monster Rookie ㄷㄷㄷ]

[Has been broadcasting for only 3 weeks and has 3,000 viewers?]

[LOL Who wouldn’t watch this?]

The broadcast start date is about three weeks ago.

So of course, my experience will be three weeks.

Is it okay to call this experience?

A small doubt crossed my mind.

“What? Three weeks is experience too. The Mollru from three weeks ago is different from the Mollru now, right? And if anything, three weeks is impactful, so it’s even better. If you write ‘3 weeks’ on your experience, it’s like, wow. That’s cool.”

I agree with the first part.

Because the ‘me’ from three weeks ago and the ‘me’ now feel different right from the vibe.

Back then, everything was awkward, not just the broadcast.

Now things feel somewhat sorted out.

But as for the latter—well, if I were a boss hiring an employee, I probably wouldn’t hire a crazy person who wrote three weeks as their experience.

But if Sua, my senior in broadcasting, says that, it’s probably true.

This isn’t a company; it’s a personal broadcasting platform after all.

“Please write your tier and when you started playing EOW…”

When I wrote down my current account tier as Master, the chat room buzzed.

[Teacher, you have to write your real tier since it’s a tournament]

[If a sub-account has a low tier, it’ll be boring]

[Is it finally time to see Mollru’s main account?]

“Um… I don’t have a main account.”

Well, I do have a main account, but I can say I don’t have one now.

But the viewers and Sua who’ve seen my skill won’t believe me.

[When are you going to stop with that concept?]

[What about experience? ‘3 weeks’ Tier? ‘Challenger’]

“Teacher, you said you had a main account when you got axed.”

“That was just something I said out of anger.”

C’mon, it’s frustrating.

I’m a Challenger, and now they’re saying I’m not one.

It was something from my past that I couldn’t accept.

Thanks to that, things got all tangled up.

But I definitely can’t write Challenger under my tier.

Because there’s a section below the tier to write the nickname of your account for verification.

Writing a nonexistent account’s nickname wouldn’t yield anything.

What to do.

“Besides, since the Watch company will check your account under your name and your family’s, it’s better to just tell the truth…”

Was she crunching on snacks or something? Sua mumbled while chewing.

From that comment, I found my answer.

“Good thing. I only have one account anyway.”

“No, what are you hearing? Lying will just get you caught!”

“It’s not a lie.”

From my firm response, I sensed something and Sua closed her mouth.

The viewers were still praying that I wouldn’t back out of the tournament.

But with the Watch company’s account verification system, I should be able to prove my innocence.

I finished filling out the application and submitted it to the organizers.

“Okay, then…”

What’s next?

I casually glanced through the chat room, elongating my words.

[LOL Anyway, if I say I’m participating, it’s not a lie]

[Believe in the teacher! Believe in the teacher! Believe in the teacher! Believe in the teacher!]

[Is there really someone who still believes in Mollru?]

[Is this a sign-off moment?]

[Don’t say anything unnerving]

[Whether I enter the tournament or not, I’ll handle it. Worrywarts for real]

[What’s next?]

[Since I signed up for the EOW tournament, let’s do EOW ㄱ?]

[Wha—?]

[Let’s get to know the people entering the tournament ahead of time]

[No peer pressure ㄴ]

[Driving is a plate?]

[Mollru only drives when drunk]

[Why is this girl so anxiously quiet?]

…It seems like a few sharp-eyed people caught on.

What am I going to do next?

I’m signing off.

“Teacher, I ordered food, so please stream until I finish eating. It’s lonely eating alone, you know.”

Not a chance.

Ignoring Sua’s ridiculous request, I ended the broadcast without saying a word.

She’s paying me a visit to mess with me on my own stream.

That’s something only I should be able to do.

The chat room went silent as the broadcast cut off.

Looking at all the question marks and angry messages, I couldn’t help but smile contentedly.

*

-This stop is Sinlim, Sinlim Station. The doors will open on the left.

Had I been on the jolting subway for about thirty minutes?

I opened my eyes to the mechanical voice indicating we had arrived at our destination.

Emerging from the subway station, the bright sunlight squinted my eyes.

Like a vampire or something,

I thought it’d be tough in the morning, so I scheduled my appointment for the late afternoon, and here we are.

The sun is just too bright.

Today’s outing, labeled as a business trip.

I’m a career woman out for some serious work.

I playfully indulged myself in that thought, even if just for a moment.

But it’s not like a big deal or anything with a fancy name like business.

I just came to meet an editor.

More precisely, an editor-to-be.

When I asked Sua about YouTube editors, she said she just moved forward with an electronic contract online without ever meeting anyone.

She said she picked the most skilled person, and I asked her what she’d do if the editor was insincere or didn’t meet her expectations.

-Then I’d just cut them off and find someone else.

Oh, I see.

What a scary girl…

I felt a bit intimidated by that nonchalant response, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Anyway, the main point is that you can find an editor without having to meet them.

I thought the world has gotten better for such things, but perhaps because I’m old-fashioned, I couldn’t imagine handing over work to someone without even knowing what they look like.

After all, the person would be taking care of my other platform, YouTube.

I should know what kind of person they are, right?

I like to think I have a decent eye for people.

Eating together and having a few sips here and there usually gives a fairly good idea of what someone is like.

Besides, if I establish a good relationship, wouldn’t they be more inclined to edit videos for me diligently?

There’s a saying that if you give a rice cake to a brat, they’ll be that much more generous with the good ones.

It may not be wrong since it’s a proverb, but I believe if someone is good to me, I can give them double.

That’s the kind of good person I want to be.

If I invest some effort here, I won’t have to change editors frequently.

Fortunately, the editor isn’t living too far away.

If they were living overseas or in a distant province from Seoul, I would’ve also gone through the electronic contract like Sua.

I wanted to meet face-to-face as quickly as possible.

The sooner I can set up my YouTube, the better.

Since the editor is pretty much “yes” to everything I say, we quickly established an appointment.

Because of that, I took another day off from streaming.

I checked my community out of habit and, sure enough, I spotted my name popping up here and there.

Complaints about my irregular streaming schedule and a request to at least announce whether or not I’ll be streaming.

Announcing, huh.

I definitely need to devise a strategy.

It’s too cruel to leave those who are waiting for me hanging like this.

Of course, from my perspective, it’s more fun to see their surprised reactions when I suddenly stream.

Ah, I’ve arrived.

While pondering over the community, my steps led me to the meeting place.

A cozy little café not too far from the station.

This was the place chosen as a meeting point by the editor, who’s somewhere in between me and her.

With freshly painted white walls and neat tables, the place gives off a tidy vibe.

With few people, including the staff, the atmosphere is quiet.

I ordered a cup of coffee and took a seat.

The entire place is made of large glass panes, offering a clear view of the outside scenery.

About thirty minutes left before the appointed time?

Checking the clock, I sent a text.

Not to rush, just out of curiosity.

-How far have you come?

Ding!

A reply came almost instantly.

-I’m in front of the café.

Having never been here before and not wanting to get lost, I came a bit earlier.

That’s why there’s still about thirty minutes left until our appointment.

But arriving just now?

Seems like she’s quite diligent.

A style that sometimes comes out early, even before the scheduled time.

That’s a good thing.

While mulling over such thoughts from the message, I noticed a tall woman strolling toward the café from a distance.

She was exceptionally tall for a woman, around 175 cm, I would guess.

As she twirled her long hair, she entered the café, scanning her surroundings as if searching for someone.

No way,

I had already informed the editor about my appearance via text.

Gray coat and ivory pants, what I was wearing today.

The tall woman seemed to murmur something to herself.

I think she said gray…

As I kept eyeing the woman, she turned her head toward me, and our eyes met.

Her eyes widened, and she confidently walked toward me, as if she had spotted her target.

Thump, thump—

Finally standing in front of me, she seemed even taller than I thought.

Could it be that I’m just really short?

The woman stood in front of me, staring intently without a word.

Is she the editor?

But I wish she’d say something instead of just looking.

Staring at me like that with that stature is a bit intimidating.

Whether she could hear my inner thoughts or not, the woman who had been silent suddenly spoke up.

“Mollru?”

Her low voice sounded somewhat threatening, and I shuddered slightly.

Chill, don’t panic.

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