Lethe's Influx (2)

Before I came here — to the Gender-Reversed World, that is — I once found myself unemployed after the fried chicken shop I'd been working at packed up and moved to another district.

I'd been scraping by on construction gigs and part-time jobs ever since dropping out of high school, so I wasn't picky. Finding another job didn't seem like it would be that hard.

Except, for some reason, no openings turned up.

So for a while, I did parcel loading and unloading. It was the kind of work I'd have preferred to avoid, but with no other options, what choice did I have?

Looking back, that was the one job I really should have steered clear of. After a few days of running myself ragged I wrecked my shoulder, blew through my savings on hospital bills, and was living as a shut-in day after day when my body changed.

Hmm. Put it that way, and I almost feel grateful for this body that flies off the handle at the drop of a hat. Coming to the Gender-Reversed World as a complete wreck would have been even more depressing.

Anyway, the point is I don't have much money saved up. Everything I've taken in so far doesn't even add up to a hundred dollars.

And with finances like that, the one big investment I made was this refrigerator.

Open the door and it's packed with ingredients — the kind that keep well and get used a lot, crammed in tight. Cooking streams had been getting a better response than I'd expected, and the viewer growth was looking solid, so I splurged.

Having this much food on hand and still eating fried rice every day, just swapping the variety, felt a little wasteful. But that wasn't more important than keeping the stream fun. Well, a stunt like this only works once or twice — overdo it just because the chat laughed and their goodwill evaporates overnight. Still, this was the first time I was pulling the gag, so it shouldn't matter much.

And kimchi fried rice was one of the dishes I'd made more than almost anything else. I was confident I could knock out an incredible visual. The cooking footage would be pretty watchable, too. With viewers flooding in nonstop today, it was the perfect menu to show off what I could do.

"I don't want to cook food that only wimps eat. You get me? If you want it that bad, go buy it yourself for fifteen bucks."

The viewers were really loving my choice. Not that I had another option.

To the eighty people who usually watched, this was a dish they'd seen plenty of times. But the hundreds who'd poured in today had never seen me cook anything except the fried rice from yesterday's stream on Lethe's channel.

Leaving behind the howls of my old regulars — overnight minorities who'd just had Geum Taeyang stolen from them in the most NTR way possible — I started the cooking stream.

"I already finished cooking. Why would I still be wearing it? Just rewind the VOD."

To people who don't care about cooking, the measure of skill is spectacle — how fast and snappy you are with a knife, whether you're using spices that look exotic. Objectively, I thought the dish had come out perfect, and it should have been a pretty entertaining stretch of stream besides.

Of course, more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than half of them had probably been staring at the way the apron clung to me, but still.

I'd gone all-in on flash for the cooking itself, but the plate was the opposite: a plain white dish with no garnish at all. Borrow the power of those plating videos I'd watched on NewTube, and a solid-color plate like this would look plenty fancy.

"Well? Look appetizing?"

"Is that guy insane or what."

The glistening, oil-slick visual of the kimchi fried rice was definitely doing its job. There were a few... unusual reactions mixed in, but overall it was wall-to-wall praise. The webcam aimed at the food wasn't anything special, but the dish itself looked so good it didn't matter.

All that was left was the mukbang for the viewers shouting about how hungry they'd gotten.

Wander around NewTube and you could find plenty of mukbang videos of men eating — demure, well-mannered meals, or clips with just the right amount of appetizing sound. I didn't belong to either camp. Mine was a rare breed of unapologetically manly mukbang. A leftover eating style from a past I still hadn't shaken.

I showed off the prettily plated fried rice for a while, then set it on the desk. Like a man... like a woman. I smashed the plating as-is, scooped up a huge spoonful, and put it in my mouth—

"Ah, shit, that's hot!"

—and immediately spat it back out. Water. I needed water.

I drank some water and glanced at the chat, and every kind of noise was pouring out. I'd always thought of myself as someone with fairly unsavory desires, but apparently there were depths beneath the depths. Why would you want to eat something someone else had put in their mouth and spit back out?

"'I'll buy the fried rice,' 'that just got hella expensive' — I memorized every one of your usernames. Just wait."

How long had we even known each other, for them to have me figured out like that? My threats were already losing their bite. Tragic, really.

"It'd be a waste to throw it out. I scooped a huge bite."

"If it came out of your mouths, sure. What comes out of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mine isn't dirty. I get to do whatever I want."

I had no idea how this looked to other people. But all of it was a choice made for survival. You did what you had to, to get through each day.

I ignored the chat throwing a fit and went back to the mukbang. Hmm. I'd wanted to show only my good side to today's new viewers. Then again, someone had offered to buy what I'd just spit out, so the people who were into that would enjoy themselves just fine. What was already done wasn't my problem.

"Nnngh. Hoo…. Ugh."

"It's one burp. Why are you all making such a fuss?"

Mukbangs really were always the right call. All I'd done was keep eating and talking with the viewers, and before I knew it the count had broken eight hundred.

Maybe it was because I was good at picking out the fun chats from the flood and answering them. Either way, it was a viewer count I'd never experienced before. Honestly, if I hadn't already faced eight thousand people in yesterday's collab, I definitely would have been nervous. Ari was handing me experience and viewers both. I'd picked a good friend.

On a normal day I would have slapped on a "talk" tag after eating and kept chatting with the viewers for a while. But today was special. I'd planned this even if nobody new had shown up. I just hadn't expected people to pile in like this.

"We're going straight into a game stream today."

"Heh heh. Your imaginations are so small. I told you I prepped something fun."

Geum Taeyang's authority had hit rock bottom. I threatened them with words all the time and almost never actually banned anyone, so the way they talked to me had gotten pretty comfortable. That was a good thing, as far as I was concerned. It meant the new viewers could settle in easily. A streamer and their chat going back and forth like friends wasn't a bad thing. Not to me, at least.

Anyway. The fun thing I'd prepped for today was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tintendo Switch I'd borrowed from Ari yesterday. I'd already finished the stream settings the way she'd walked me through, earlier.

The viewers were always on my case about why I kept pouring that precious game talent into the same sandbox title. Now I finally had a chance to show off. Of course, today's game — Mariu Kart — was a racing title where items played a huge role, so luck would still be a factor. Honestly, I still didn't have a clear sense of how far this body's improved abilities actually went. After tearing it up today, I might finally get a feel for it. Unlike Mariu Party, where luck decided almost everything, this was a game that took real skill.

Grinning with anticipation for the rest of the stream, I brought over the console I'd left outside the webcam's frame.

"This looks fun enough, right?"

"Wait... you hated Minecraft that much?"

"Heh heh heh. You should be thanking Lethe. She's the one who lent it to me."

I wasn't sure how much eighty follows from my original viewers would actually help her... but watching everyone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this happy made me happy too. These were people who'd shown up every day to watch a Minor Streamer's broadcast, after all.

The new viewers seemed excited too, probably because they'd seen me play yesterday.

Today I shrunk the webcam and blew up the game screen — another break from the usual. While the regulars were still processing that, I hopped straight into the game. A cute middle-aged lady character sitting in a racing kart filled the screen as it started to load.

Liberation from the Minecraft Occupation. I liked the sound of that. I might end up grinding that game endlessly again later anyway. For now, as long as it was fun, that was enough.