Turning Crisis Into Opportunity

A professional has to be able to command their own domain at will.

Not just streamers—any line of work.

In my case, that domain was everything about the live broadcast I was running right now: the content, the pacing, the viewers.

A donation mid-tournament was a kind of test.

How I judged it would change what came next.

And that one line demanded a ridiculous amount of judgment.

Normally I'd have let it slide, but.

It was a full twenty thousand won.

For a streamer—especially one without a big name—that was money you were supposed to answer. Even so, a simple thank-you would have been enough to bury it.

In plain terms, it was a clueless donation.

"How far is everyone?"

But I was the one who'd opened the topic in the first place.

I'd thrown out the bait that let TARS come up. And this viewer had been around since the three of us used to collab all the time, so they probably hadn't meant anything malicious by it.

Even accounting for all of that, it was still the kind of thing you could pass on…

I have to use this.

Mongaji and Seol Yunha—I needed both of them.

I'd even written them into my plan for the V-Emperor Road.

If I gave that donation no real reaction, a nasty image would stick. People would start saying things like, Look at her ignore that—guess they drifted apart, or Yoo Serin's tier got big, so the other side is fishing for a collab.

I had to dodge that kind of baseless talk.

We were already stuck watching each other, neither side willing to speak first. If useless rumors spread on top of that, the whole relationship would warp.

"Unnies, where are you guys right now?"

So—turn the crisis into opportunity.

In an instant, the chat flipped.

That was a streamer's authority—their power. Even a donation or chat people might have hated, if the host took it positively, the whole mood turned with it.

So far, so good.

Just that much was enough to protect the image of we're not awkward with each other. Taking it this way meant it wasn't ban-worthy talk.

But…

I can't stop here.

A moment ago, that had been a crisis—one that almost pushed me farther from two people who could help me later. Simply letting it pass wasn't enough. I had to plant my foot on it somehow and flip it into a gain.

"Let's see…"

Storming into their rooms and spamming chat, though—that would be stupid. Mid-tournament, if a host started unsolicited buddy-buddy networking, nobody would take it well.

So what then?

Click.

I opened Seol Yunha at the very end of my follow list. The account ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was so packed with big-agency cams and corporate VTubers that she didn't even show up unless I hit "show more." No wonder she hadn't noticed I'd come back to Pajijik.

Yunha's stream popped up. I watched her fight the Act 1 boss for a little while, and—

There it is.

Her viewer count started climbing. The stream hoppers were pouring in.

I just needed one more layer on top of that.

"Yunha unnie's soulslike skills are still the same as ever~"

Any throwaway comment about the screen in front of me was enough. No more, no less—just that. Only enough to read as I dropped by for a second to watch.

And just like that, the hoppers made a fuss all on their own.

Someone might call it a nuisance, but we'd once been a fate-bound trio—that would cover it. Besides, the Chairman had brought them up with a donation first, so if any arrows flew, they'd fly that way. Factor everything in, and nobody was going to treat a brief peek and one throwaway line as me wrecking a broadcast.

And the decisive point: the tier gap was enormous.

I was sitting at three thousand. Yunha was around fifty. Once the difference got that big, this kind of move got read as a trickle-down blessing. Yunha's hyped-up voice, watching her count more than double, proved it.

Before my name could come up any further—

Click.

I left the room fast. Stay any longer and it could turn into the forced buddy-buddy moment I'd been worried about.

Planting just one seed—Yoo Serin has a positive interest in Seol Yunha—was enough to hit the goal. From the way they hadn't reached out, they seemed to find me burdensome, but now that wall would crack a little.

"Aji unnie went mage? Didn't see that coming."

I did the exact same thing in Mongaji's room, then came back to my own stream.

"Everyone's working so hard, so I'll wrap this up real quick too!"

I still didn't know why those two were keeping their distance. From the diary, Yoo Arin had cheered them on and sent them off when they transferred. She was even the one who'd turned down going to the new platform with them.

Guilty about leaving her alone, maybe.

Or scared their much smaller tier would only get in the way. Or they didn't want to look like opportunists pouncing the second my numbers blew up. I could have messaged first myself, but without knowing the real story, I might say the wrong thing.

"Let's gooooo!"

Anyway—I'd held out my hand. That much was done.

"Fiiiinally!"

After dropping the Act 3 boss—dog, wolf, lion, who could even tell—I blasted the grand clear BGM.

About two hours to get here? The game audio had been cranked so high I'd basically only run straight, and it still took longer than expected.

Finishing this fast was partly thanks to the dual swords. If "thanks" was even the right word…

The bug had gutted their performance so badly there was no reason to hunt a new weapon. A toothpick was a toothpick either way. Every pattern assumed pure evasion, so armor was useless too. I just grabbed whatever I saw and never bothered looking for good gear—and that turned into a time save.

"I think I finished a little too fast~"

And now it was pure free time!

Records would be tallied already. I could chat, or poke around watching how the other streamers were doing. Things wouldn't wrap until third place—the prize line—showed up.

Click.

I opened the favorite for first, Dongburo, wondering how far he'd gotten.

Act 3—and pretty close to the boss, too. From the way he was poking around, he was mid-farm.

Yeah, he's fast.

The studio had estimated about five hours before third place would land. Dongburo had reached the Act 3 boss in a little over two. The early-zone bosses weren't that hard, so even with generous try time he'd finish inside three hours.

"If I'd taken it any easier, I might've been in trouble."

Eat a meal, nap a little, throw in a few song segments—and who knows what the result would've been! And that was with the penalty that I had to hit more than twice as hard as everyone else baked in.

Mmm. Perfect.

Keep praising me. Praise me until you start worshipping me as a god!

I savored the chat's flattery with pure satisfaction, then clicked the official broadcast.

Of course it was all about me over here too.

With more than ten thousand people packed into the room, chat was flying at a terrifying speed.

Ah, what do I do.

I think I'm getting addicted to this.