Streaming? No Chance in Hell (1)

A few days passed.

Inevitably, the moment I'd been dreading arrived.

"...Fuck. How'd it drop this low again."

I bit my lip, staring at my smartphone screen.

Should I get a job?

My account was scraping bottom. After paying the electric bill and a bit of utilities, nothing was left.

I'm screwed... But if I work, I can't game.

Coming home exhausted after a full day of labor meant no Asgard. Worse, wasting that precious time on menial work was unbearable. I was a ghost of the deep sea, living and dying in Asgard.

Isn't there a way to make money just by breathing?

I was rolling around the bare floor, lost in unproductive worries, when I suddenly remembered that streamer I'd met a few days ago.

"Oh, right."

BJ Pororo.

"He was a streamer."

Like a human vacuum cleaner, I'd been tumbling across the floor, but I plopped right down in front of my computer.

"Search BJ Pororo."

"Whoa."

Way more viewers than I'd expected. Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked into the stream. The screen switched, showing Pororo's face alongside the Asgard game.

"What the hell!! Why isn't bottom getting ganked? It's the meta right now! What's the point of only going top?!"

Pororo was screaming his lungs out with a black-and-white screen—death cam—on display.

"Aigoo, DeepSeaExplorationSquad bro drops another 10k. You're right, bro—better than chasing full camps. Haha!"

"Ah, just fuck off."

"Aigoook! I didn't recognize you again, bro!"

What the hell.

I'd barely entered BJ Pororo's stream, and donations were pouring in nonstop. Maybe good timing, but it hit me like a truck.

Money this easy? I bust my ass hauling bricks from dawn, and this guy's just gaming and raking it in?

Bubbling up from deep in my chest was something pitch-black and venomous.

Calm down. Suppress that snake heart...!

For a split second, all sorts of ways to sabotage him flashed through my mind, but I forced myself to chill. Pulling others down was petty—better to climb to their level myself.

Playing field is equal.

That's why I'd looked up Pororo in the first place. Could you make bank without a high tier? Looked like a resounding yes.

Plus, it solves my livelihood and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lets me play Asgard to my heart's content.

Decision made. From today, I'm BJ Geogeun Wondil.

"Time to set it up."

I searched for a cam and mic, tossing the bare minimum gear for streaming into my cart.

But the prices...

"Uwot...! Parents must've ditched you!"

Expensive. Not just pricey—the real kicker was realizing I was flat broke.

"Three triangle kimbaps."

At this rate, no Choco Mong. Streaming gear? Dream on.

"If I can just sort out a mic somehow..."

Cam could wait. Game screen was king anyway.

But a mic was essential. Couldn't chat and play at once—had to talk to viewers.

"Ah!"

Come to think of it, I had one. I dug out some earbuds shoved in a drawer.

The ones bundled with my phone.

Archaic relic, sound quality iffy, but whatever. As long as it's audible.

I tested them and grinned.

"Good."

Broke-ass starter pack, but it'd do.

*

I'd decided to stream, but actually starting felt daunting.

Never watched much internet broadcasting, so zero knowledge. After two hours scrounging info solo, I caved and messaged my one contact.

It's life or death!

Simhae Cheongsobu clearly wasn't buying it. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't believe her either—no argument there. Time to cut to the chase.

I didn't need riches. One meal a day was fine. As long as I could earn while playing Asgard.

Unlike me, Simhae watched streams sometimes—perfect consultant.

Cold reception. Fair enough—even I knew it sounded random. But what could I do? I wanted to game and make money.

Oh yeah.

Kraaaack!!!

Honestly, even I wondered. Was I dreaming of being a butterfly, or was the butterfly dreaming of me?

Everyone accepting my changed self so casually only made the whole thing murkier.

Whatever.

No need to overthink.

Gamer Geogeun Wondil—that's enough.

Reality? Out.

*

After that, I kept prepping the stream. When I decide, I do it.

Simhae griped nonstop but detailed the programs to install and streaming tips. All talk, but her worry shone through.

"Sigh."

Gamer through and through, bones and all.

No special sauce to being a girl BJ. Even if hot, no traction means you're just backdrop reacting for big streamers. Even I knew that much.

Yeah. My plan wasn't face or gender. Deep sea now, but grind skill, climb tiers—success someday. Hit Master or Challenger, viewers and cash flood in.

"Hehe."

Damn. Just picturing the viewer surge after Challenger...

Huh?

"H-huhm?"

......!

That's when it hit me—what Simhae was worried about.

If I streamed like this...

"Urp..."

Suddenly, my stomach churned. Suddenly, my stomach turned.