Yoo Serin Survives!
A booming voice punched straight through her earbuds.
On the official broadcast feed, the three of them—dressed to the nines—were waving at the camera.
Their high-energy banter bounced off each other in a perfect synergy, lifting the whole studio atmosphere. The chat, already boiling, kicked up another gear and went white-hot.
A sudden glint lit caster Shin Hyunseung's eyes.
As the buildup began, Serin bit down hard on her thumbnail.
What am I supposed to say?
If they were going to spring a surprise like this, they could have at least put it in the notice! What if she had a disease that killed her the second she had to speak in front of a crowd?!
…Then again, that was pretty much the job description for a streamer.
How were they moving this fast? Dongburo's voice was already coming through Distalk.
Right! They might not even call on me!
It was too early to despair. They were only pulling a handful of people out of dozens of contestants for interviews. Why would they risk a rookie who'd debuted less than a week ago messing up on air, huh?
Maybe she'd slip through unscathed after all. She clung to that scrap of hope, inventing every justification she could—until chat detonated.
"Uh… y-yes?!"
She whipped her head toward the exploding chat window and found a message from a moderator wearing a blue badge.
The mod, casually locking in that she was doing an interview.
Ah. So this was it. Yoo Serin, star of Fajijik—her light extinguished right here.
She let out a groan thick with despair and opened her Fajijik inbox.
It's… actually there…
Not sent just now—the message had arrived yesterday morning. A polite note saying they might need an interview and leaving a link, just in case.
…If you can't run from it, enjoy it. That's what they say.
She was already on the cliff's edge with nowhere left to retreat. Three thousand viewers or a hundred thousand—same difference, right?
…In reality, the gulf between those two numbers was catastrophic.
Ding—
Inside the Distalk room she'd been directed to, streamers were waiting. Three of them, including Dongburo, had already finished their interviews and left.
Anyone with eyes could tell the caster was looking for her.
She checked the Distalk chat, then took one deep breath.
Okay. Calm down.
First she muted the official broadcast so nothing would overlap. Then she tapped her mic with a fingertip, checking the output. She was still fretting over whether she'd forgotten something when pure instinct—hurry—made her mouse hand jab the voice channel button.
Now the caster's voice was coming in through Distalk. A full-body jolt of electricity ran through her. She squeezed her eyes shut and just went for it.
"Ah—hello-da-eyo!"
"……"
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. About two seconds. Not a single person in the voice channel even breathed.
Even after that false start, the commentary desk rode it out like the professionals they were, buoyantly carrying the conversation forward.
Plan: look unfazed. Status: failed.
"I-I'm fine-aa…"
She was absolutely not fine. Her heart was about two seconds from exploding.
How did she feel? She was just… good. That was it.
"I think they're right…"
"I-I didn't say that-thoough…"
This man was trying to kill her! He was going to bury her alive on air!!
How was she supposed to answer that? It was just talent she'd been born with.
"…I just do it, eyo."
"I said I didn't say that-thoough…"
Shin Hyunseung, was it? She genuinely couldn't measure how much this man hated her.
You absolute bastards. Easy for you to say when it's not your neck on the line. If any of you were in this seat you'd be on a stretcher to the ER—you get that?!
The conversation finally felt like it was winding down, and Serin exhaled a breath of pure relief. But the world, apparently, was not finished teaching her that nothing came easy. The second she let her guard down, the biggest one hit.
"…Come again?"
Excuse me—you're just going to throw the first syllable at her without any time to think?!
She grumbled inwardly, but the trigger was already pulled. Stream chat was flooding with "Fe" after "Fe."
"Fe… I won't be defeated!"
Screw it! First thing that came to mind—fire!
"O… Today, I take the win!"
Her mind went blank. What started with A…?
"A… aaah…"
The expectant faces of the cast only piled on more pressure. Real bastards—they hadn't made the earlier people do this!
She was bouncing on her toes, frantically scanning chat, when a comment flashed past her eyes.
"I'll absolutely thrash them into paste!!"
"Wow!"
"Ooooh…"
"Yesss! That's right! Thrash them into paste!"
A wave of clean, bright exclamations and applause. Chat roaring in celebration. Watching everyone have such a good time, the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
I… got through that okay, right?
"That should be good enough, eyo."
Only a few minutes left until the tournament started. No time to fuss over her face or hairstyle. Without hesitation, she picked any of the locked-in presets and moved on. Next, the weapon selection screen appeared.
Like a Light Soul's starting kit, huh.
The weapon she chose here would probably make a real difference in how fast she cleared the early zones. Helpfully, each option came with a description.
Selecting this weapon guarantees a smoother clear. Balanced power and solid defense are its strengths.
The system was recommending the basic setup: one-handed sword and wooden shield. Beside it, though, a pair of blades wore a red warning tag.
Extremely demanding control. By abandoning defense entirely, expected damage is high.
Dual blades—a high-risk, high-return weapon. She left the highlight sitting on them, and right on cue the viewers started steering.
"Hmm…"
She glanced over the chat as opinions flew in every direction. For a smooth run, sword-and-shield was clearly best. And this was a tournament with prize money on the line, after all.
But dual blades are calling to me.
What kept pulling her eye were those two gleaming blades. Every other weapon had a defense option; dual blades forced you to slip every attack with pure evasion. On the flip side, two weapons meant that much more damage.
And they look cool.
Her chest fluttered at the thought. Dual-wielding was pure romance in any game. Personally she preferred an oversized greatsword even more—but unfortunately that didn't seem available at the start.
"I've decided, eyo!"
No more stalling. She clicked dual blades.
Honestly, the choice had been locked in from the start. Pick the safe option here and the people who'd been waiting for blood would tear her apart.