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[Title Unknown]

“[Crazy! What the heck?]”

“[I don’t care who the opponent is; I’m going full shotgun, haha!]”

“[The sniping reaction is insane.]”

“[You’re good with that bow.]”

“[Nice aim, sister.]”

“[Use other weapons too, please.]”

“[Are you… the Jumong of Soul Warfare?]”

“[What can we do against the Great Bow sniper?]”

“[Just pop some popcorn.]”

“[Gotta hide behind the shield… do you think popcorn looks like shit?]”

Flames danced majestically on the screen, celebrating our team’s victory.

The text in the chat was uproarious, congratulating us on the win.

This time, it wasn’t the Broken Greatsword, but the Great Bow that I used, a result of my plan to try other weapons during the stream that rolled around like a snowball.

I broke through the sniper-unfriendly battlefield with a long-range, one-trick pony weapon and took control of the arena.

It was a tightrope walk where one misstep could end with my head flying off, the kind of thrilling show that viewers would adore.

‘At least we won.’

With victory, the atmosphere soared higher, and it was a sight to behold.

I leisurely admired the numbers on the results screen and exited to the game lobby.

“[Thanks for the 5,000 won donation, @댓대미지!]”

“Thank you, @댓대미지! Pro debut? Is there really a need for that?”

“[If it’s you, you could easily get a pass to STK, anyway.]”

“[Let’s focus on breaking into Challenger first, sis.]”

“[If you go pro, it’ll be an idol-like situation, right?]”

“[And that’s a good thing.]”

“The pros are way better than me. Besides, when considering practice and living in a gaming house, I’m not sure if I want to pursue a pro debut,” I said with a shrug.

“[????]”

“[I doubt any decent pro could put their business card up against you.]”

“[Is there any pro who dodges a Great Bow shot just to turn around for a headshot?]”

“[If you give them a mission, won’t most challengers bail?]”

“[No clue?]”

Looking back at the chat, I realized it wasn’t easy to empathize.

While physical skills are important, the pros sharpen their mental stamina and judgment skills, piece by piece.

They wouldn’t play like me, relying solely on physicality for enjoyment.

For example, charging into enemy lines with a Great Bow just like I did just now or fighting with a Broken Greatsword like before.

Since it’s solo queue, if I overcame with physical skills and was hailed as a hero or troll because I ruined the game, it would be on me.

But being pro comes with the chains of not just myself but also team members, so I’m bound to behave well.

Fans of the teams, naturally, and even the fans within the same team would mentally battle it out online.

No matter how strong one’s physical skills are, the gap between a ranked player and a pro is vast.

“When you’re working for other people’s money, there’s a lot to uphold, you know? I wouldn’t want to go pro; it just seems frustrating.”

“[What does that have to do with being pro?]”

“[When you go into the actual world of work, frustrating tags follow you anyway, so it’s a bit much.]”

“[Hey! That’s just the way it is if my sister says so.]”

“[You’re not holed up like a hikikomori, are you?]”

“[Sister, you’re still a kid… you gotta take care of yourself.]”

“[The world outside is dangerous.]”

“Anyway, I have no plans of going pro.”

And while I needed to talk about something else, too many questions were flooding in the chat for me to do a one-man show.

It felt overwhelming to figure out what to catch and answer.

[Since it’s virtual reality, a hand cam doesn’t have any meaning… please do a face reveal!]

“[I’d rather dye my hair and do makeup in setting and share that… this helmet is so stuffy.]”

“[For real, who shows their bare face in virtual reality these days?]”

Especially, questions about my identity just kept pouring in.

Face reveal, what’s your name, where do you live, what’s your body size, and so on.

I thought about ignoring it but realized it wouldn’t be good to let the chat drift away, so I decided to make it clear.

As the topic shifted from game talk to face reveals, the chat sped up to a pace too quick to follow.

Even with slow mode on, it was wild!

“Why should I show my face? Everyone knows the reason I’m wearing a helmet. Feel the joy of imagining what I look like with my voice, which everyone thinks is nice!”

“[Reason for not revealing face = because she’s an unattractive pig.]”

“[Don’t you see that jawline under the helmet? Can a pig maintain such lines?]”

“[She’s probably pretty and doing it for privacy reasons… but I will keep demanding a face reveal.]”

“[For real, lol.]”

Chat erupted again.

Throwing out bait like this made me feel like I could manipulate their emotions, but following Doyoung’s words, I sensed if I slipped up even a little, it could be a real headache.

“Alright, enough with the silly talk. Huh? Even if you don’t want to end, what can we do? You guys aren’t going to sneak into my MS Room to take off my helmet. Ah, Soul Warfare weapons? I’ll keep using the Broken Greatsword… but I’ll occasionally try other weapons. Holding the Great Bow this time was refreshing.”

I subtly glanced at the time.

‘Three hours have already passed…’

I started the stream while the sun was still up, and time flew!

I had really gotten into the flow.

The Q&A wrapped up without much topic to discuss.

After all, it was my first stream, and there weren’t other contents aside from Soul Warfare.

The questions that came up in the chat revolved around the gameplay and face reveals.

Well, I suppose that’s it.

“Alright then, that’ll wrap up today’s stream.”

“[????????????]”

“[I just got off work and tuned in; you’re already over?]”

“[What a bummer…]”

“[Can’t you see the 6,000 viewers raging here?]”

“[To see them ready to burst… they must be demons, teacher.]”

Whether someone set a fire, the chat was ablaze.

As a streaming streamer, I had to douse those flames right away.

“I’ve already been streaming for over three hours, so I’m tired. Um, I’ll adjust the start time. I’ll create a channel and a board separately for announcements.”

“[That’s expected, but let’s keep going today, sis.]”

“[I just got here 5 minutes ago.]”

“Okay, then, everyone have a good night. Adieu~”

—Stream OFF—

As if I’d cut off a scene from a movie where a horde of zombies was approaching, an eerie silence washed over the MS Room.

Is that what it was?

“Did I defeat them?”

As I mumbled to myself, I couldn’t help but chuckle; it felt like a decent joke.

Taking my first steps into the unknown world of streaming and finally surfacing back felt pretty special.

Ah, I just finished broadcasting.

Just moments ago, I was talking with people.

They were watching my stream through other devices.

“Ah—”

I exhaled lightly, feeling a refreshing release wash over me.

Even in a virtual reality where I couldn’t find a trace of nature, could the wind be blowing through?

As I took off my helmet, a strange sense of refreshment brushed across my face.

“Okay, okay!”

With the end of my first stream, the tension in my heart relaxed, and I stretched.

Now what do I do?

Ah, I need to set up a YouTube channel too.

How should I edit? Should I just cut it appropriately and upload it?

‘I should ask Doyoung.’

It struck me how much I relied on her, enough to be able to call her Doyoung-emong, as she guided me through everything from setup to precautions.

Since the moment we opened our hearts to each other as heroes, there was a bond unknown to others.

The more we got to know each other, the more I felt it would be a contest of who would be better.

Thinking of that, I decided to send a message to commemorate the end of the stream.

“[Friede: I finished streaming. @.@]”

“[Pomingi: Message is being typed…]”

It felt like it was time for a reply to come in, but the typing notification was still up.

Did something go wrong with my stream?

Were they watching all along?

While various thoughts tangled in my head, I stared blankly at the message window.

* * *

I watched the stream until the end.

Looking at it from the perspective of a somewhat senior streamer, Sehee’s first stream could be called a great success without a doubt.

In her first stream, reaching 6,000 viewers in under three hours was impressive.

The peak time for viewers is usually the late afternoon, so she barely glanced at the major peak time of around 8 PM, which could mean a debuff.

If she’d started streaming closer to that time, hitting 10,000 wouldn’t have been a dream.

That brought a smile to my face, but immediately the memory of her deficiencies and the trolling she almost ruined her stream with made me feel gloomy.

Being happy and sad at the same time—could it be the early symptoms of depression?

“[Friede: I finished streaming. @.@]”

“[Pomingi: Message is being typed…]”

“Ugh, what should I write….”

Initially, I thought about apologizing, but…

Whenever it came to this, I found myself stalling like my fingers were paralyzed.

It wasn’t out of shallow calculation to hide my mistakes, but rather the bitter self-reproach of causing harm to someone I cherish.

“If I admit I was wrong, can’t I just go and do a dogeza?”

“What can you even say to her? Do you even have the intention to apologize properly first?”

“Typically, if you just bow down, most will forgive you.”

“…….”

Should I give her a good wallop to the forehead?

Doyoung felt the impulse to smack me one but managed to hold back.

‘Right, even if the phrasing sounds awful… Doyoung was right.’

Staying in a rut here won’t resolve anything.

I need to confront things to make a path forward.

“Doyeon!”

“What?”

“Dogiza or guren-jowl, which looks better for you?”

“Of course, you should do dogiza. Don’t you know the rhythm for that?”

“Really? Then I will do dogiza, and you do guren-jowl.”

Ignoring Pomingi’s pathetic glare, I turned back to the monitor.

Doyoung, steeling her resolve, took a deep breath and quickly typed with her slender fingers.

In a hurry to wrap it up before the determination she built up could slip away, she typed urgently.

“[Pomingi: Sis, could we meet if you’re okay? I have something to say..]”

“[Friede: Writing a message…]”

There was a brief pause before the response.

With this sudden request, her sister was surely pondering it.

Why is she doing this? What might be wrong?

Would she not dislike it? Would she mock her for being all worked up inside?

Aah, I hate this. I’m not a teenager trembling at a friend’s emotions anymore, why is this behavior so pathetic?

Restlessly, as she focused on the screen, Sehee’s reply popped up.

“[Friede: Sure, let’s do that. I’ll send you my address. Come over for dinner.]”

“[Pomingi: Thanks!]”

Thankfully, the OK signal was given.

“Hey, are you ready?”

“What is there to prepare for?”

I looked in the mirror; my forehead was shining.

There shouldn’t be any problem with headbutting.

Now, it’s time to go with that wily frog and do dogiza and guren-jowl in front of her sister.

* * *

 

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