Why Is My Sister in There?

After Jump's stream ended, I checked the time. It was already past two in the morning. Considering we'd started around ten, that meant we'd been on air for about four hours.

"...I'm exhausted."

I sat up from the Connector, frowning at how heavy my body felt. Four hours of talking with viewers, playing the game, and even coaching Jump had left a considerable weight on my mind. I hadn't even been the one streaming and chatting with an audience myself, and I was still this tired.

Teaching someone, I was discovering, was far more stressful than I'd expected. Jump's game sense wasn't merely lacking — it was goldfish-level, and that hadn't helped. I'd had to make him understand everything through his body rather than theory.

Even though my actual body had barely moved, a crushing mental fatigue washed over me. He couldn't grasp even the most basic tactics, so all he knew how to do was charge in mindlessly on nothing but his mechanics. Tearing that habit apart and rebuilding it had taken a considerable amount of time and effort.

In the end, I had managed to improve his skill to some degree. It still wasn't at a level I'd call satisfying, but compared to where he'd started, the progress was significant.

...Huh?

While my mind wandered, an unfamiliar notification appeared on the computer.

It was the voice chat app I'd hastily installed yesterday. The fact that a message had arrived at all was strange.

Lee Harin was the kind of person who made you wonder if her entire social circle had been surgically removed. Looking at a contact list with literally no one registered, you'd think she'd been living out in the wilderness.

I'd figured I wouldn't be receiving any messages for a while. Getting one this quickly was almost funny.

The first message I'd received after changing bodies was a connection I'd made in a game. Was I turning into a real gamer now?

Speaking of messages, one person came to mind — someone who asked after me every single day. Seeing those worry-soaked texts arrive without fail, even though I never replied, always left me feeling unsettled.

I'd considered answering on her behalf, but that would only have made her more anxious, so I let it go. I also had no idea what I was even supposed to say.

I figured if I just kept leaving it, she'd eventually give up when the replies never came.

That said, what on earth had happened to make my younger sister worry this much? Not knowing Lee Harin's past, I could only sit with the frustration.

Well. I'd figure it out eventually.

For now, I decided to focus on the message sitting right in front of me. It had to be from Jump. I wondered what it said. Probably something about how useful the coaching had been. Or maybe an apology for the chat that had gone too far.

I opened the message.

It was a fairly long message.

To summarize: he was sorry for getting me suspected of hacking, he'd just deposited the money, and the coaching had been useful.

If he was calling the coaching useful, that meant he'd felt his skill go up. I'd been worried when he kept staring blankly into space like a man whose psyche had been shattered, but apparently that concern had been unfounded.

And he'd deposited the sponsorship money immediately. I'd expected to wait at least a few days. He was surprisingly efficient.

I picked up the phone beside me and opened my bank account. He hadn't been lying about depositing it right away.

Looking at the balance stamped on the account, I found myself wondering if I should try streaming.

It wasn't that I thought streaming was easy. There were surely hardships and headaches I knew nothing about. But what else could I do? The only thing I knew how to do was shoot a gun in Last of Quantum.

I couldn't exactly go work a part-time job in a body I hadn't even adapted to yet.

Reality, unlike a game, had no tutorial. Restarting was obviously impossible, and there was no walkthrough. All you could do was charge in blindly based on what you'd seen and heard.

What you earn the hard way lasts. It sounded like a nice sentence at first glance, but the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world didn't work that way. It meant the world wouldn't wait for us to fill in a blank slate.

Lasting a long time mattered, sure — but the most important thing was obtaining something in the first place. You had to get something before you could keep it or lose it.

Simply put, the world wasn't going to wait for me to adapt.

Sooner or later, I too would have to make the best choice I could in my current situation. And maybe, right now, that best choice was streaming.

Besides, there was someone who knew streaming inside and out sitting right in front of me. I had nothing to lose. Worst case, I broke even.

I sent Jump a message.

"Seoyeon. Seoyeon, look at this."

Before class started, Lee Seoyeon had been slumped over her desk, trying to shake off her fatigue, when her friend's chatter made her lift her head without much thought. Then she saw the phone screen being shoved in her face, frowned, and gave a small shake of her head.

"...I told you, I don't care about games."

Armed people slaughtering each other in a festival of killing — it was obviously a video of Last of Quantum, the game that was all the rage right now.

"No, Seoyeon! Just watch it once, I'm serious. This one's actually legendary. Some guy named Jump uploaded it and it's insane. The views already passed a million!"

As Seoyeon flopped back onto her desk, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looking annoyed, her friend kept clinging. Last of Quantum was enjoying enormous popularity worldwide. Finding someone at school who didn't play it was harder than finding someone who did — it had gone well beyond their class.

People often assumed it wasn't popular with girls. That was just the kind of ignorant talk you heard from people who'd never actually played. Killing enemies melted away the stress that built up from studying in an instant. That was why she kept recommending it so hard to Seoyeon.

"Sorry, but I'm really not into that kind of violent game. Even watching the videos isn't that fun."

Still thoroughly uninterested.

"Oh, come on. I'm only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠asking you to watch it once. Are you really going to ignore your friend's one wish?"

"Haa... Fine, just show me."

Under her friend's relentless prodding, Seoyeon finally answered with the face of someone who'd lost.

"I knew you'd say that."

"I'm warning you now, I can't give you a good reaction."

Seoyeon couldn't understand why her friend was this obsessed with a game video. She would admit the game itself was impressive. No matter how much money you poured in, making something that realistic wouldn't be easy.

But that was a separate issue from whether she liked the game. Even a glance at the footage showed blood spraying in every direction and people dying without a single mosaic. Just watching it turned her stomach. There was no way she'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠want to play it.

And yet her friend sat there enjoying it like none of that mattered. What kind of game was this, that it could do that to someone?

Her friend dragged a chair over, sat down right beside Seoyeon, and hit play with a delighted expression. Stuck to Seoyeon's side, holding the phone sideways, zooming in on the video, even adjusting the quality settings — Seoyeon had no choice but to throw up her hands. She really wanted that badly to show her how fun the game was.

The moment the video started, Seoyeon's eyes began blinking far too fast, as if they couldn't process what they were seeing.

"See? Isn't that insane? I seriously wonder how anyone even plays like that. And this Unknown person apparently hasn't even been playing that long. If you start this game too, I'll teach you from the basics..."

Her friend's chatter, the streamer dying on screen and losing his mind — none of it reached Seoyeon's eyes. She was looking at only one person moving on that screen.

Her older sister, who lately wouldn't take her calls. The sister who used to at least send short replies, and who hadn't answered a message in a long time.

Why was she in the video her friend had just put on?

Seoyeon's mind had long since filled with a question that had no answer.