Ren-mom Identity Theories
Jin Dong-yeon, an ordinary student on leave from school. After getting discharged from the military, he works part-time at a convenience store to make ends meet. It's in a neighborhood full of private homes, so the store runs a weekend special. Thanks to that, it's nearly midnight and there are no customers. Who knew it could be this leisurely?
Dong-yeon had been gleefully scrolling through the gallery all morning. Now, with his stomach starting to growl, he set his phone down to grab some food. First up was the triangular kimbap he'd set aside from the discard bin. For a drink, apple-flavored drinking yogurt.
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(New) [My Take on Guessing Ren-mom's Identity]
In the meantime, a new concept post had gone up. Dong-yeon peeled open the kimbap wrapper and tapped the bottom post with his left pinky. It'd provide a quick bit of entertainment while he ate.
Based on what Ppase said on stream after getting smashed by Ren-mom and turning into Ren_Daisuki.
1. Mixer — Highest possibility right now, but also the one that absolutely can't be true. Mixer was rolling a Q back then. Check the evidence video on Mixer's NewTube. But here's a question: Mixer's style is all about parrying, and his main is Replicant. Why would it be Mixer? Watch this for those kinds of guys: (Mixer_Abandons_Defense.tube)
The higher you climb in Tuhon, the less it's about body memory and more about brainpower, right? You've internalized most patterns, so no need to tax your body. That's when you start using your head. You're not just reacting to the opponent's skill with a damage character and dodge on the fly—you're reading 2, 3, 4 moves ahead and planning in advance.
What makes Mixer a freak in this area? He doesn't pressure first and plan; he reads the opponent's skill and builds a plan around it, then makes it happen. When Mixer's streaming, he sometimes mutters, "They're going for that one." And 90% of the time, they do. He's already seen 4 moves ahead in seconds.
Why bring this up? Minus the parry style, this part was exactly like Ren-mom. Ren-mom's predictions were Mixer-level. Fucking confusing, right? Yeah, me too, shit.
2. Na-jjang — Korea's pride and joy... nah, female character master. Everyone knows him since he faces off against Mixer in finals sometimes. Skill-wise, he trades blows with Mixer convincingly, but crucially, the pressure patterns were way off. So Na-jjang's probably not Ren-mom... but damn, there's hardly anyone who mains female chars like him, and he did hit King on Ren. So he's on the candidate list for now. Something about "you can force a style change if you try." That's what Ppase said. No Gal Cup drama over style changes, ㄴㄴ.
3. Gaki — Debuted this year, nearly beat Mixer in World Masters Summer. Of course, lost 2:3 in finals to Mix-nario. "Sudden Japanese player?" Yeah, Ppase included foreigners in his candidates, and this guy's the most suspicious... Warugaki, I mean. (For anyone wondering, warugaki just means bratty little shit.)
Age is super young. Minimum tournament age, like 17? So maybe a kid messing around on a friend's account on Korean servers... just speculation. But he doesn't play trash chars much, so why bother account-boosting with Ren specifically? Ppase said low probability too. Just let it slide.
4. Dowamoney — Just for fun. Didn't seem like hacks, and if it was, the account would've been banned. Tossing it in anyway. Plenty of Tuhon players pissed at Dowamoney for daily rents—let's watch Mixer rape that motherless hack instead. (Dowamoney_UsesHacksAndStillLoses.tube)
5. Hidden Master — Second most popular theory after 1. Mostly thanks to Jjamppa dad-joke influence. Seems way older than Ppase from how he talks down to him. But with zero info known, the theory's meaningless lol. Thanks for reading this long post—no TL;DR.
Order some chicken ahead of tonight's World Masters Winter Korea rep qualifier.
It was a long post, but it flew by while eating. Dong-yeon cleared the empty wrappers from the table and stretched. The sun blazed, but it was a bone-chilling winter. He left the counter to crank up the heater when a stranger came trudging into the store.
Ding-a-ling.
The glass door opened.
"Welcome."
A woman in a black mask and a black cap pulled low entered. Dong-yeon stared into her transparent sapphire eyes and swallowed dryly without realizing. Her half-lidded eyes brimmed with exhaustion, like she'd lost all faith in the world. Her baggy round-neck tee slipped off one shoulder, revealing a sports bra. Whether she knew or not.
Thud, thud. She dragged her heavy steps toward the fridge. Average Korean woman's height, but killer proportions. Her glossy golden hair shone like some devilish magic. And her skin—flawless white jade. A girl so perfect, you could believe God made her to spread beauty.
Standing before the booze fridge, she muttered.
"———. Blyat."
First foreign language he'd heard from her, but Dong-yeon knew that last word. Thugs from Siberia he'd met in FPS games spat it out constantly. Korean equivalent: fuck. Miracle all-purpose curse for any situation.
But why suddenly? Bad booze lineup? Dong-yeon's body froze at the pure foreign tongue. What to say? English?
The girl paced in front of the booze fridge forever, opening and closing the door, agonizing. Finally, she grabbed a blueberry drinking yogurt from the next aisle. Her partner: square-pack instant noodles.
Thud. Thud. The ramen-yogurt couple landed lightly on the counter. A card popped out from her hoodie pocket.
"Card approved."
He'd meant to use English, but nerves nuked his prep.
"Chopsticks, please."
"Ah. Sure."
Didn't she just curse in foreign? "Pardon?"
"...? I said chopsticks."
"Ah. Right. Of course. Here you go."
Why's her Korean so fluent? First foreigner this good in the hood.
"Card approved."
The girl casually tore open the pack and headed to the water dispenser. Pour, pour. Hot water filled the container. Crack. Wooden chopsticks split, spinning between Elena's index and middle fingers on both hands.
"Wiggly, jiggly, yummy ramen~"
A tacky old song flowed from her refined voice.
"I could eat ten a day~"
Classic Korean cartoon tune. The store manager sang it once—he remembered. Korean parents? Learned from them? Or why the hell remember that?
More than that. Why so down?
It's bugging me.
"Whew. Ack."
Dong-yeon was peeking anxiously from behind the counter when—
"Kraaah—."
She slurped a chopstickful at the window table, moaning in ecstasy.
"The only one to comfort me on a lost, aching day... you're it."
Goosebumps prickled Dong-yeon's skin. His mind spun a Siberian noir reflecting recent geopolitics. Reckless war starters. Citizens reviled worldwide, economy in ruins. Young officer girl in thick fur coat, inhaling ramen with troops in snowy wastes. Awaiting supplies that'd never come.
# A quiet alley in the bedroom community. A raw-faced guy ambled down villa stairs.
"What the hell, dude, out of nowhere."
"Hyung! Long time."
"That's why it's outta nowhere."
"C'mon, why snap? You stayed up all night. Your chosen detective. Your chosen Ren-mom! Can't sleep till I find her."
"......"
The one-year-younger NewTuber who'd dropped by today. Sinchul's words rang true. With World Masters Winter next week, Tuhon Gallery buzzed there—but only Ppase obsessed over Ren-mom.
Ppase scratched his head, conflicted. But having unearthed this raw gem, how could he ignore it? Nail the Ren-mom connection, and he'd have a year's content secured. He was investing now for future feasts.
"Anyway, hyung, help with my content?"
"Fuck what content. Dawn patrol. Warn a guy ahead."
"You live by the clock, right?"
Sinchul smirked, pointing at the high sun.
Ppase shielded his eyes from the glare, muttering.
"What we doing."
"Game center crawl with Ppase-hyung."
"The...? Dude, no game center here."
"None? Bullshit, that can't be."
"None, punk. Look around—villas everywhere. You do content without scouting? No roots, man."
"Root talk? You're the rootless one."
"Wanna die."
"Not our style~."
Ppase grumbled at Sinchul.
"Fine. Quick shower, wait here."
"Nah, no need, let's go."
"Gonna grab another guest. Your main gig ain't games—can't just drag me."
"Fresh out bed and you clock it fast."
"You're the shithead eating my back, huh?"
"Hyung knows: subs mean top dog."
Sinchul's at a million subs. Ppase at half.
"Fucking smug bastard."
"Ah. Yeah."
"Anyway, 10 mins, stay put."
"5."
"5's two for stairs up, punk."
"I'll chill at that conbini then. Hurry."
"Yeah."
Ppase vanished into the villa lobby. Sinchul fished smokes from his pocket and lit one. Classic Ppase-hyung. Drops in unannounced, still hooks up content. Viewers see cocky fool, but up close, he's gold—keeper.
"...Huh."
Puffing slow, strolling, when a quirky customer by the conbini window caught Sinchul's eye.
"Foreigner?"
Bright golden hair, blue eyes. Face half-hidden by cap, but small head, great proportions obvious. Devouring square ramen. Instant legend from cold northern lands conquering "ramen." Perfect nat-pride bait, right? Short-shoot gold content.
Sinchul bolted, flung open the glass door. Plopped right next to the foreign girl.
She startled, yanked her mask to her nose, recoiled.
"Good afternoon. Got time for me?"
Wary of the sudden Sinchul, her eyes darted.
Sinchul's staple: interviews with Korea-based foreigners. No fluster—he politely doubled down. English works anywhere.
"Sorry if I bothered you. Got time? I'm Sinchul, gold button NewTuber."
But her reaction? Way off-script. She frowned, tried to stand again.
Didn't recognize him? Million-sub Sinchul?
No way.
"Wa, wait! Just a quick interview!"
But the harder he pushed convo, the more anxious she got. Ass already up, ready to bolt.
Sinchul couldn't back off. Fail to register him, he'd look like random creep. He stood, faced her head-on.
"I'm not weird!"
"What the hell are you—."
Ding-a-ling.
The door bell rang. A guy burst in panting, smacked Sinchul's head.
"You crazy fuck, what're you doing?!"
Droplets flicked from his hair ends. Ppase, who'd sworn 10 mins for shower, here in 5.
To clear the air, Sinchul rubbed his head—but the victim spoke first. The foreigner.
"Fuck, why the crooked talk since earlier?! Can't you speak Korean?"
Fluent curse, native accent. Perfect Seoul dialect.
Stunned, Sinchul yelled.
"You speak Korean?!"