Clip Exporting
If you clip what you figure is a highlight of a stream, you can share it on another streamer's broadcast through a video donation. That's what's known as clip exporting.
Unless a streamer has laid down specific rules, viewers will haul in every kind of video through the donation system — sometimes the mood turns ice-cold, and sometimes everyone enjoys the clip together.
But people have a way of remembering the bad moments more vividly than the good. There's always the chance your own clip gets exported, wrecks the atmosphere in someone else's room, and tanks nothing but your own image in the process.
That's why plenty of streamers pin a clip-export ban to their broadcast rules.
Me? I'm a minor streamer who needs all the publicity I can get, so I had no reason to slap on a rule like that.
But… publicity or not, maybe I should have just banned the whole thing.
Looking at this chaos, that's the thought that comes to mind.
Already the third video donation of the day.
I really didn't want to play it. I really didn't want to react. There was no getting around it, though.
I queued up the donated video, and what came on was some female streamer I didn't know. I'd seen her face while poking around for industry research, but I'd never actually watched her stream.
In the upper-left corner of her broadcast, a clip of me doing the Grand Bow was rolling.
Someone had exported my clip.
"Ohhh!! Yo, they're not even censoring this? Whoa. Look at those back muscles. That's insane."
Of course I wanted to get famous. That much was true.
When that clip was filmed, I hadn't felt anything like shame. I was just grateful my stream hadn't gotten cut, and even if a few dozen people had seen my muscles, I wasn't a man of this gender-reversed world — so there was no psychological damage to speak of.
The second it started getting exported, though, something in me shifted.
Even now, getting my shirt yanked up wasn't all that embarrassing. But hearing that a bunch of complete strangers who'd never even watched my stream were getting worked up over my body… it left a strange taste in my mouth.
"Ah, for fuck's sake. Not again."
"Haaah. Thank you so much for the 5,000-won donation, ClipExporter."
This time it was some male streamer I didn't know.
"Wow. First time I've seen someone actually pull off a Grand Bow. What's this guy's username? That body is no joke. How does he even maintain that?"
Why did even the compliments leave me feeling weird?
"…Is this a public execution?"
Clip exporting had already mutated into a trend. At this point my brain was going numb.
With the video that had just come in, that made five exported clips.
"Aren't you guys taking this way too far? What if you kill the mood? You've gotta be sick of this by now — let's wrap it up here, guys…"
"Augh. You people are actually insane."
Maybe it was the temperament of the community users who'd flooded in today, but I couldn't get a handle on any of it.
The viewer count was climbing in real time — I needed to row while the tide was in — and yet the situation was maddeningly awkward.
The other streamers' reactions weren't even bad, and my own viewers were all having a great time. I had no grounds to shut it down.
Hmm.
Thinking it over again, I should have banned it even if it tanked my popularity.
The sixth video donation, arriving while everyone except me was still enjoying themselves, put an end to the whole thing.
"What now? Why would I be screwed?"
Naively, I assumed it would be more of the same as the clips before it.
On screen, a woman was streaming.
Hair so black it looked like dye had never touched it, dark eyes with a hint of blue, long hair of a modest length.
Her sharp features and clean-cut clothes said everything about her personality at a glance… and the faint crease between her brows made it perfectly clear that her mood, right now, was not good.
I'm screwed.
The chat in the video and the chat beside my own screen both froze over in an instant.
Seol Ari, twenty-three. Streamer handle: Lethe.
If you had to sum up her life in a single word, it would be exemplary.
Always meticulous about self-discipline, she was popular with men; she enjoyed sports and games and was skilled enough to be popular with women, too. She focused in every class, only played once her work was done, and enjoyed her life without ever going too far or falling short. She never hesitated to help people in difficulty, and when she saw something wrong she threw everything she had into putting it right.
Perhaps because of that ironclad temperament, she rode the elite track all the way into the Business Administration department of Hankuk University. Everyone looked up to her. Almost no one had the courage to actually live the way she did.
Even the fact that a hobby stream she'd started after discharging from the military now consistently held over seven thousand viewers was a product of that distinctive mix of energy and rigor.
And Ari had hated villains since she was a child.
People who hurt others for no reason and took pleasure in it. People who never showed a shred of serious thought about their own lives, who only lived the present in the most violent way. People who were shamelessly proud of being that way.
So-called delinquents. Ari couldn't stand them.
Which is why she didn't like that guy.
Dull blonde hair with dark roots growing in, as if it had been a long time since the dye job. He looked a world away from anything you could call self-care. And the tan — she couldn't even guess what possessed him. A man tanning like that? Was he advertising that he was the kind of guy who used his body however he pleased?
And that piercing in his ear — there was bound to be a tattoo somewhere on him, too.
Ari had had her share of run-ins with every kind of delinquent, but she had never in her life seen someone who looked so blatantly like one.
Just look at those fierce eyes. You could practically read the kind of life he'd been living.
Ari genuinely loved the streaming industry. It looked like people just having fun, but behind the scenes they were grinding, competing, growing. Building friendships with those people, growing together, streaming together — she loved it so much she'd even delayed returning to university because of it.
But then there were people like that. People who lived only for themselves, who only ever caused others trouble, who jumped into streaming because they were jealous of how easily other people seemed to make money — because they figured they could do it too.
Every time Ari saw people like that, she felt like she herself was being disrespected. Like her fellow streamers were being disrespected.
You should be rewarded in proportion to your effort.
If you do something wrong, you should be punished.
It felt like her entire philosophy was being denied.
That's why her face twisted. She couldn't keep her expression under control. The way he hiked up his clothes for a reaction was repulsive.
"Tsk. I don't even know who this person is… Please don't send clips of people I don't know."
Even though she'd never had any particular rules about video donations, the sudden reaction seemed to startle the viewers — but they knew Ari's personality well enough to figure out the situation quickly.
Ari knew she'd made a mistake. She didn't regret it. She had no intention of apologizing, either.
The situation was patched up well enough, and the stream went on. The viewers were just glad the awkwardness passed quickly, so they decided to forget what had just happened.
"Yes. So I think I'll take a day off this Sunday. For orphanage volunteer content."
With Ari's announcement of her schedule, Geum Taeyang seemed to fade from her broadcast as if he'd never been there.
"…That's why I told you not to just send them wherever."
In an instant, the chat froze over.
Of all those countless "lols," not a single one remained.
What kind of professional clicks their tongue and talks like that on stream?
I wanted to resent this Lethe person, but now was not the time. There were still four hours left until I could go offline. I couldn't let this atmosphere drag on.
I had to turn the mood around somehow. My own face didn't look all that bright, either.
A bitter situation, but this was streaming. I let out a sigh and focused on the broadcast again.
"Her username is Lethe, you said?"
"That's not even the point right now. She's seriously gorgeous."
"Whoa. I've never seen a face like that in my life. That's a once-in-a-generation face."
Lethe. You made this awkward, so you won't mind me cashing in on your name a little, right? Or maybe I should say cashing in on your face.
Who does that out of nowhere in an industry this small? I'm the victim here.
I took a sip of water and ran my tongue over my lips.
A classic Geum Taeyang line, and the atmosphere was heating back up!
Then a single chat came in.
"…? She's got a… boyfriend?"
Ah. That was close.
Even so, some random guy going on about how pretty a taken woman is — that was crossing a line.
I might look like Geum Taeyang now, but I had zero interest in NTR or any of that. Better to laugh it off and just fire up a game.
A dip in the mood was one thing. Starting a controversy was another.
I, Seong Yuhan, Sweet Hannam. Even if this Lethe person scratched first, I was a man who kept his lines.
And yet… I couldn't keep my face under control.
This feeling… it was that. The new change that had been making my mouth run strange since last time.
The sensation of Geum Taeyang's instincts crushing my reason.
I'm screwed!
I was actually screwed. If you wanted a prefix for emphasis: I was completely screwed. Wasn't this only supposed to go off when I was talking?
I tried desperately to change my expression. Not enough. If this failed, I was going straight to hell, wasn't I?
"A childhood… friend?"
Ah. I couldn't hold it anymore.
I hated this body. I really did.
One corner of my mouth twisted and curled upward. Light came back into eyes that had been dull. Lust gathered in that fierce gaze.
A wicked laugh slipped out between my lips.
