The Vicious Limited Skin Collab (2)

Today's content was a steamed bun tasting review.

"Alright, everyone. First up, let's try Yuria's Sweet Cream Puff Bun."

The appearance alone was a pass. Even if I was only eating these for the skins, they at least had to look edible.

Steam billowed up from the bun fresh out of the microwave. I split it in half and stuffed one side into my mouth.

— Chew, chew.

— Smack, chomp.

"I'd appreciate it if you called it eating with gusto, thanks."

They were being way too harsh over how I ate.

"And if you don't want to hear it, just mute your speakers. You can stare at the Asgard lobby screen instead."

I polished off about half the bun in an instant. As for the taste… how to put it.

"First off, the bread texture is honestly a little dry. The inherent limitation of convenience-store steamed buns, maybe? But what covers for that weakness is this cream filling. It's like getting completely wrecked in lane, barely scraping by, then redeeming yourself in the teamfight."

Shut up.

"Anyway, one-line review. First bite was dry, finish was sweet. Star rating? Three out of five."

If the skin hadn't been held hostage, this wasn't quality I'd bother eating.

I cleared the cream bun aside and picked up the red one next. Just looking at it, it seemed spicy.

"Next up is Nike's Fiery Veggie Bun. Just from the look of it, it seems hot, but…"

— Chew, chew.

"Whoa!"

Nike's was solid.

"This one has some real impact. Actually spicy. Though if you're a spice wimp like me and not a spice tank, milk is basically required. That said, it still delivers on flavor, so 4.5 feels fair."

And so I was working through the buns one by one, playing Michelin critic, when—

Concerned reactions flooded the chat. Fair enough — for a normal person, finishing fifty buns in a short span would be pure torture.

But there was something they were overlooking. Namely, that this body belonged to a muscle-brain ADC. The icon of grit. A user who was dead serious about Asgard.

"Everyone. Aren't you underestimating me a little?"

I wiped the bun crumbs from the corner of my mouth and let a smile curl my lips.

"A mere fifty steamed buns? Want me to tell you how I've been surviving all this time? The truth is, for the past several months, I've lived on nothing but triangle kimbap."

Majestic. Unshakable.

"Yep. And because of the price, just the regular ones at that. Once in a while, when I was in a good mood, I'd spring for a premium triangle kimbap. That's it. In other words, my stomach is optimized for a single-menu diet."

"So whether it's fifty or a hundred, go ahead and bring them. I can't eat what I don't have. Missing a meal because ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there's food available? Never happens."

It was true, though. And just as I was feeling genuinely wronged about it, a massive donation rolled in.

"Thank… overwhelming thanks…."

Fifty thousand won. It felt like my bank account, emptied by the bulk bun purchase, was filling back up again.

This SolidAndSturdy guy didn't donate often, but when he did, the amount was always huge. Thank god I hadn't permanently banned him back then. In the face of money, even a little parental insult could be forgiven.

Though somehow it feels like he only tips whenever I pull broke-person moves.

Or was that just me? Probably overthinking it.

Three days passed.

"Urgh…."

The moment I opened my eyes and sat up, a dry heave rose in my throat. The cause, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of course, was the steamed buns. The damage that had been stacking little by little in my stomach had finally accumulated for real, and my gut felt enormously bloated.

"Shit…."

Clutching my chest, I looked at the desk. A mountain of steamed buns still sat there, welcoming me.

There were still so many left. I'd clearly been eating hard, so how had it come to this? Morning, rubbing my eyes — steamed bun. Lunch, mid-game — steamed bun. Evening, after shutting off the stream — steamed bun.

Fuck, late-night snack — steamed bun. I'd even been chugging them down with Chocomong, so why.

Why won't they go down!?

I had no choice but to admit my mistake. These steamed bun bastards were on a completely different level from triangle kimbap.

At least triangle kimbap was rice. Koreans run on rice power — you never get sick of rice no matter how much you eat. But these damned steamed buns had been snacks from birth. Sweet red bean, greasy cream, the relatively better veggie. Tongue and stomach never got a break.

Worst of all, that distinctive flour dryness clogged up my throat. At this rate, just like that donation yesterday, I might actually choke and have to call 911.

"Still… I've got to go live."

— Fwoosh!

"Hello, everyone…."

"No… my stomach's just a little…."

I forced the words out with difficulty.

The viewers cared more about the fate of the limited skin than about how I was doing. A person was dying over here and these demon bastards—

"Haven't gotten it yet. I've still got about twenty buns left."

The viewers piled on like they were frustrated out of their minds.

Well, it was an understandable reaction. Other streamers had already ditched the bread ages ago for content and aggro, and were already doing skin reviews.

But setting the stream aside, it was something I personally could not accept.

"No. I won't throw food away."

"This many won't fit. It's tiny."

My studio apartment fridge was the tiny default unit that came with the place. There wasn't space for twenty steamed buns. And freezing bread dries out the moisture and kills the taste anyway.

"I'll just eat them all. I can eat them."

Probably…?

Yeah. I can probably eat them.

— Chew, chew.

I forced a steamed bun down. That soft, disgusting texture hit my tongue and the nausea surged right back up.

"Urgh…."

Fuck.

"Everyone, I'm going to be honest."

"I feel like I'm going to die."

"No, it's different from triangle kimbap, okay? Triangle kimbap is a staple. This is dessert. Honestly, how is a person supposed to eat cake as three meals a day…!"

…I can't do this. I have to figure something out somehow.