Eighty Pieces of Sushi
Was it really that surprising?
I hadn't died. My face had just gone scarlet, and I gave Little Boy's shoulder the lightest tap.
"Aaaagh!"
I had barely even touched him. His reaction was way too much.
"Haha! Okay, okay, I get it! So please stop looking at me with those terrifying eyes!"
"What's wrong with my eyes?"
It wasn't just Little Boy. Even the viewers were looking at my face and getting scared.
What exactly is supposed to be wrong with my eyes?
I dragged a hand down my face, clawed back as much composure as I could, and got the broadcast moving again.
"We don't have time to sit around like this. Come on! We've got a scenario we have to run, don't we? At this rate we might actually run out of time."
We had been given two hours. That was it. Inside that window we had to hook as many viewers as possible and push the game's popularity back up.
Look how hard we're working. So please spend money on the game. It was a protest, in its own way.
"Right. What we're doing today is this!"
Little Boy shrank our on-screen faces down and threw the game log up on the feed.
The game was, of course, Survival Ground.
That was what we were playing today.
The chat was already saying it for us.
"Obviously! I'm not the one playing. Lee Jiwoo is. Or what, do you people actually want to watch me play?"
Even with the hate comments crossing every possible line, Little Boy just laughed and let them roll off. Watching him sit there that unbothered, I felt a flicker of genuine respect.
"Haha! So what are you gonna do about it~ Mad? You mad? If you can get here, come on then~!"
...Or not?
Watching him work, it was less composure and more a miserable street brawl with his own chat.
Right. This was for my benefit. He was showing me how not to stream. Before we went live he had even told me, in so many words, not to copy whatever he did.
"All right, that's enough. I just log in on my account here, right?"
"Ah, hang on a second. One question first."
My hand stopped on its way to the keyboard.
A question?
I told him he could ask anytime and looked over.
"What kind of question?"
"Have you ever played Survival Ground?"
"Of course. A friend of mine is completely obsessed with it. We've run a few matches together, so I know the basics."
"That friend isn't a guy, is it?"
Little Boy had just lobbed a remarkably loaded question into the room.
"That's more than one question."
"....Sorry?"
Little Boy and the chat both threw up a forest of question marks. I couldn't help a small snort.
"I'm kidding. Of course it's a girl friend. I'm still a student. Between studying, acting, and doing ads like this, I barely have time as it is."
"Ah.. r-right! Haha! You heard her, everyone! She said no!"
The viewers exhaled in relief. And they were happy we weren't about to waste time — that we were jumping straight into a match.
"Still, I've only played a few games, so I don't know if I'll be any good..."
"Don't worry about that. I'll be right here to walk you through it. Or..."
Little Boy flicked a glance at the chat window.
"First two people! I'm posting the lobby info now, so if you want to queue up with Lee Jiwoo, now's your chance!"
The sudden open call left the viewers with no time to type. They were too busy slamming into the game.
"Tsk, tsk. Watching our stream and you don't even have the game open on the side? I'm disappointed in you."
Two slots filled in a blink. Little Boy looked at everyone who hadn't made it in and started poking the bear.
The viewers took the bait with both hands. The chat flooded with every curse in the book.
I glanced sideways. He was smiling like a villain.
Wow.. I am never streaming like that.
I shook my head and, without a word, hit start.
That was when the chat started up again.
A few of the nastier comments drifted by, and I thought about it.
Hmm... is that really the best they've got? Poor things.
Sorry, but if there was one thing my last life had given me, it was a mental fortress. Cute little remarks like that couldn't even scuff the paint.
Nice try, kids.
"Ah.. so close.."
Arahan had punched in the lobby info the instant it went up, but so many people had slammed the game at once that it lagged, then kicked him clean out.
He hadn't even tried to hide the disappointment on his face, which meant he was going to be chat's chew toy for a while.
"It's not like that!"
Too late to walk it back. A screenshot of devastated Arahan was already making the rounds.
"Haa.. do whatever you want. Today's not the only day anyway."
The official PUG broadcast wasn't a one-and-done. They were running it once a week, three times total.
The last of those three was the one that mattered. At the start, a mail had gone out to the partner streamers asking them to come on if they had the time.
He had hemmed and hawed about whether to go, then decided he couldn't just sit there and watch the game die, and accepted. He had never imagined that choice would pay off like this.
Talk all you want. I'm going to see Lee Jiwoo in person.
His mouth itched. He wanted to tease the viewers, wanted to mess with them — but just picturing them howling about betrayal on the day itself already made him happy.
Ah... this is why you stream.
It was only a daydream, and the skin around Arahan's eyes was already twitching.
The donation chime rang. Arahan's mouth curved into a smile.
"Ten thousand won~ thank you! I'll throw in the donation from the bet once this match is over too."
A million won was not a small amount of money. But if that money bought him the chance to see Lee Jiwoo in the flesh...
A few days ago a video had drifted onto his recommended feed by accident, and that had been enough to send him through the drama Ghost Singer and turn him into her fan. Meeting her would be nothing short of a religious experience.
Not even a little bit of a waste. Ah.. I wish that day would get here already.
Arahan charged his donation balance so he could pay up the second the first match ended, already living for two weeks from now.
"Still... what do I even put as the message?"
Ten minutes into the match.
Less than a minute after drop, Little Boy had eaten a fist from an enemy and died. That left three of us, including me.
"This should be plenty. Little Boy wasn't part of the fighting strength anyway."
I checked the kill feed in the upper right.
Two kills. Four assists.
For a supposed beginner, that was an outrageous stat line. The viewers had already decided I had been hiding my rank.
I didn't know either. I had no idea I'd be this good at the game.
In the gender-bender novels I had been killing time with, the protagonists always came pre-loaded with video games even when they weren't otherwise gifted. Maybe I had gotten that blessing too?
"Enemy ahead."
A teammate's voice came through the speakers.
"Ahead? Where?"
I ducked behind a tree, slammed a mag home, and got ready to fight on a hair trigger.
A taut, ringing silence. My palms were sweating. Thirty enemies left, and the number was dropping fast. The match would be over in the next ten minutes.
"Two behind the rocks. Jiwoo, if you swing wide.."
"I'll loop around and tighten the net."
"....Yeah. Please do."
The voice on comms sounded startled, almost flustered.
What was that about?
I had no idea if something surprising had just happened. Not my problem. Focus on the game.
I let myself enjoy the fact that this was a broadcast and still sank all the way into the match.
We swung a wide circle and slowly closed the pocket. Midway through, a teammate's mistake lit us up for the enemy.
"It's fine! Leave this to me and go!"
I dumped two grenades and a smoke to blot out their sightlines. While they milled around in the haze, I cut my footsteps down to nothing, closed the distance, and the second they entered range—
Bang! Ba-bang!
Ratatatatatatang!
A full-auto spray printed two more kill logs.
Eight people left, counting me and my two teammates.
"Not many left. I'm sweeping the rest and ending this."
I strutted around the map like I owned it. In between, I jiggle-peeked cover and tried to look as close to a pro as I could fake.
The problem was I had maybe ten hours in the game. I had played it in my last life, sure, but I had been away from it so long my hands were rusted shut.
Bang!
A gunshot from somewhere I never saw.
You were killed by an enemy's K-2.
"Ah..."
An impossible kill feed bloomed in front of me, and the screen went dark.
Why?
Of every gun in the game, it had to be a K-2?
Fuck...
Fuuuuuuuck!!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
I slammed the keyboard over a snipe that made no sense at all.
I was still huffing, nowhere near calm, when Little Boy slid into the gap.
"W-wait! It's getting late anyway, so how about we keep the stream going over dinner? Perfect timing — the director says sushi's been prepared for us. You like sushi, right, Jiwoo?"
"Ah.. sushi."
The word food bled the heat out of my head faster than anything else could have.
Sushi, though.
I let my brow crease a little, and Little Boy's face immediately went worried.
"Don't tell me you can't eat sushi?"
"Ah.. yeah. I think I might be allergic. Last time.. I ate eighty pieces and my stomach didn't feel great."
"Ah.. sorry? Ei.. eighty?!"
Come on.. was that really so surprising?