Gotcha! You Scum!
Gotcha! You bastard!
The guy on the monitor screen was pointing at a mosaicked photo of my car and smirking like a total sleaze.
"......"
My grip tightened on the mouse.
'Outdoor Romance'. A mega camping YouTuber with 500k subscribers, the very jerk who'd been sniping me lately and racking up views off it. His video was packed with doubts about my channel's authenticity—gold digger scandals, fake poverty cosplay, hidden sponsorship suspicions, you name it.
But that wasn't what caught my eye right now.
Those four letters snapped my last thread of reason.
"You... you fucking prick!!!"
I slammed the desk.
"How dare you insult my Galloper?!"
My beloved Galloper—what a machine. Sure, it'd been discontinued ages ago, but that rugged design, the hefty ride, the lawnmower-like vibrations buzzing through your whole body every time you turned the key. That was a man's romance, off-road soul!
Of course...
I'd been thinking of upgrading.
It was true I'd planned to trade it in for something comfy and nice once the cash rolled in. But! I could trash-talk my own car all I wanted—no one else could. Especially not some so-called camper dissing the romance of an old-school ride and calling it junk? This was war.
"Hoo... hoo..."
I glared at the monitor, huffing like a bull. I wanted to dive into the comments and blast, "What the hell do you drive that makes you talk shit?" But I held back. Reacting now would just drag me into the mud fight he wanted.
Even though I'd left it to the MCN legal team, I couldn't just sit here watching my baby get trashed right in front of me. Problem was, I had no sharp move. Gut feeling was 100%, but hard evidence? Zilch. No solid proof that 'Outdoor Romance' channel owner was the community troll Yaro.
"Argh, so frustrating."
My chest felt clogged. Staying cooped up here would give me a stress ulcer for sure.
"Maximus. Walkies?"
I scooped up Maximus rolling around under the bed. Oblivious as ever, he wagged his tail.
The cold winter wind blew, but it was perfect for cooling my boiling head. Maximus was lost sniffing fallen leaves.
"Haa..."
I was sighing on a bench when my pocket smartphone buzzed. Caller ID: [RadiantManhoGodBoss].
Had they found something? Hope rising, I picked up.
"Hello? Boss?"
Ah, Areum-ssi. Out for a walk? I hear the wind.
"Yeah. Needed some air, feeling stuffy. Did... you find anything?"
Hmm... No smoking gun yet.
As expected. Reality's no drama.
Don't rush it. We'll get it sorted for sure.
Even Kim Manho's solid voice didn't ease the frustration. After a pause, I spilled my hunch.
"Boss. I... think I know who it is."
Is it the Outdoor Romance channel by any chance?
"Wha—yeah. Spot on. [...You think so too, Areum-ssi?]"
"Yeah. The video style, the wording, and most of all..."
I chose my words carefully.
"Obsessed with money talk."
Money, huh...
"Yeah. In the sniping video, the community posts—super sensitive to 'poverty,' 'cash,' 'rich kid' keywords. Like... someone with a grudge against money."
It wasn't just jealousy over my success. The hate had this sticky, twisted vibe—tearing down others' wealth while wielding their own broke-ass sob story for pity votes.
Hmm... Makes sense. I felt that weird vibe monitoring too. A 500k subber should be raking it in—why the money fixation?
"Right? Smells fishy."
Got it. We'll dig into that angle. Oh, and about the sub-channel...
Kim Manho shifted to sub-channel launch and future plans. Bright prospects, but it wasn't sinking in.
"Boss, sorry... can we squash this fly first? It's nagging me."
Haha, sure. Not your style to let it slide. We'll hustle.
Call ended, I headed home. My head swirled with money.
Obsessed with money... a 500k subber...
500k subs meant ad revenue alone outpacing most office workers. Add sponsorships? Yet why the hungry mentality, the inferiority over others' cash? Broke? If earning big but still broke, reasons were obvious: spending outstrips income, or...
A leak in the pipe.
Home sweet home, I plopped at the PC. Tossed Maximus a treat, dove into detective mode.
Search bar: [Outdoor Romance][Yaro][yaro]
Nothing juicy at first. Fan posts, video links. Go deeper—ID variants.
[yaro_camp][romance_yaro]
Then, a used goods site post snagged.
Posted yesterday at 3 a.m. Clicked in. Famous brand, high-end tent.
Huh? This looks familiar...
Straight to Outdoor Romance channel, scoured videos. Bingo—a week-old upload.
My Lifelong Companion: Tent Unboxing!
In the video, he caressed the tent: "With this guy, I can go anywhere. I'll cherish it forever." All teary-eyed romance.
Yet ditching his "lifelong companion" in a week—at 3 a.m.—at a steal price?
Desperate for cash.
Stinks. Big time.
Googled yaro88. Flood of posts poured out—from game sites to event entries. Flipping pages, shady ones popped.
Posted yesterday 2 a.m.—hour before tent sale.
4 a.m.
Posted on illegal gambling promo boards and free boards.
"......"
Jaw on the floor. Ironclad evidence. Illegal toto, baccarat... variety pack. Posts were gold: "Win big this time, rebuy tent," "Life-changer," "Pay back all when revenue hits?"
The self-proclaimed "hungry wild camper"? A gambling-debt-ridden addict, truly starving.
Deflation hit with a hollow laugh.
"Whoa... total psycho."
Maybe a namesake? Needed kill-shot confirmation. Scrolled more. Mobile game gallery post.
"Gotcha."
Self-verified perfection. Egotistical illegal gambling troll sniper. That was Outdoor Romance's true face.
Gathered evidence, Kakao'd Kim Manho.
Sent files. Reply in under a minute.
Emoji barrage. Boss's excitement jumped off the screen. Phone rang instantly.
"Yeah, boss."
Amazing, Areum-ssi. How'd you dig this up?
"Just... sniffed the rot."
Hahaha! Your instincts are gold.
"So, report now? Illegal gambling—cops?"
Kim Manho paused.
Hmm. Areum-ssi.
"Yes?"
Wanna squeeze him a bit first?
8 p.m. Strategy sesh with Kim Manho done, I faced the camera. Title: simple.
[Surprise Live Stream]
Pension recs with Maximus.
Hit start.
Viewers exploded: 100, 500, 1k... Post-Japan boom, my channel's firepower was insane now.
"Hey everyone. CampingAreum here."
Relaxed smile, waved.
Scooped Maximus onto my lap, petted him, chatted easy.
"Yeah, Maximus's shots are all done. Thinking a trip together. Recs for pet-friendly pensions?"
Viewers fired recs. Spilled Japan tales, recent updates, hyped the vibe.
Then—
Ding! Sponsor chime.
Here it came—Kim Manho's opening shot. ID screaming "boss" tho...
Chat erupted.
Pretended to mull, propped my chin. Stared into camera, spoke slow.
"Hmm... Yeah, I know it. Watched the vids."
Cool tone.
"Happens. People misunderstand... get jealous, right?"
Bet that guy was watching. Guilty feet burn for thieves.
Momentum shifting my way. Then, one chat jumped out.
...?
Not in the script. But...
junker hit my nerve. Reason snapped.
"FUUUCK!!!"
Slammed desk, shot up. Maximus yelped and bolted.
"Don't you dare trash my baby!!!"
Lion's roar.
"You get Galloper vibes?! That rumble! Exhaust stink! That's camper soul! Who calls it junk?!"
Huffing, glared at cam. Chat froze.
......
Oh crap. Overdid it. Sat back, cleared throat.
"Ahem... sorry. Love my ride."
Sheepish hair flip. But it backfired into gold.
Time to seal it. Calm face on, bored into lens—like eye-locking Yaro across screens.
"Anyway... yap away."
Sly smirk, lip curl.
"Won't be long."
My message delivered. End stream.
Screen dark. Sank into chair, eyed ceiling.
"Hoo..."
Dice rolled. Kakao from Kim Manho.
"Oh... right?"
"...So now it's power play..."
Eh, stop there. Anyway, the illegal gambling troll sniper's fate? Sealed.
Now just pop the corn and watch. Oh, first—
"Maximus! Sis is sorry! Scared ya yelling?"
Time to coax him from under the bed.