13. Warehouse Princess
"Hoo...."
I let out a deep sigh after finishing my thoughts, and it came through crystal clear over my cheap 29,000-won mic, broadcast straight to the stream.
The chat exploded again over my sigh. Some blamed hardcore haters, others the nonstop perverts spewing sexual harassment, but that wasn't why I'd sighed.
Now that the tension was gone, I felt fucking exhausted.
Insane reflexes, dynamic vision. I had no clue about the science, but my spatial awareness and all those brain functions were probably supercharged. Side effect of pushing those abilities to the max? Or maybe this frail female body just couldn't handle that adrenaline rush.
My neck ached, and the room spun a little. Back when I was Lee Jinsu, I'd pull all-nighters gaming then crush gombang the next day no problem.
Stamina's turned into a total premature ejaculator....
Ah. Now that I'm not running on fumes, maybe I shouldn't use that word...?
I took my hand off the mouse and leaned back in my chair. Then I pulled the mic closer.
Drag—
"Bros, I think Battlelands is done for today. I'm beat."
Regret poured in, but health first if I wanna keep earning. Push too hard now, hands shaking, take a frying pan to the face next round and early out? Bye-bye goddess image I just built.
And more than that, some chats had been bugging me.
Vicious hack accusers would suspect me no matter what. Better ignore and switch topics.
"Nah, bros, it's not low energy. Think about it. Run a hammer drill nonstop, even Sekang Dai shakes. Need time to pace myself."
"Chit-chat? Hell no, strike while the iron's hot. Switching screens."
I swapped the monitor feed from game to a black background with text.
[Cheat Clarification Complete, Chit-Chatting, Taking Questions.]
"Cam... leave it? All black's weird. At least peep the keyboard and mouse. Sorry, grabbing a cola real quick."
I asked viewers to hang tight and headed to the fridge. I'd tossed the green onion extract, fossilized eggs, and kimchi that could fuel a truck.
Grabbed a 1.5-liter cola from the clean fridge and headed back. Popped the cap, poured into a paper cup—fizzy refreshment burst out. Cheap mic might not catch it, though.
Downed the full cup in one go.
"Kuh—!"
A thick, soju-shot kuh belted out automatically.
"Alright, lotsa questions for me, I'm sure. Fire away."
Day labor pro tips. How not to get fired from logistics. How to win over the site boss. Gombang without wrecking your back. Begging for yarikiri shifts. Cement bag carry form. Brick stacking hacks. Eight years of know-how, ready to spill.
Stuff even part-timers on site don't get. Viewers level up eight years sitting down.
I laid it out, and with 40+ viewers, chat scrolled like mad.
But not the questions I expected.
"...Ah, some missed yesterday. Dunno why, but I TSed."
"Not a concept, for real. Hit the logistics center two days ago."
"This pisses me off most. Had about 40 million saved. Woke up in this body, bank balance: 400k. God took my Johnson & Johnson baby and my cash—too steep a fee for turning girl."
"See, bros? Not greed—survival instinct. 530k total including logistics pay. Convenience store kimbap, lunchbox, cola, water, mic, cam—now broke. Donations not settled yet."
I scooted forward, chuckling. Guys crushing on girls—unavoidable. Sucks it's me, but instinctual, understandable. Kinda fresh, too. Pure liking for me.
"Wanted to ban the ideal type asker... but mercy. Listen up, bros. Won't see a guy who can't out-gombang me as a man."
"Line up if you can shoulder two cement bags per side, up four floors and back. Can't? I'd pin you."
No fake romance like girl cams. This is sweat, dirt, and raw power—pure day labor stream.
Logistics mentions hit, I rubbed my brow recalling it. Not infuriating—just soul-crushing humiliation for Lee Jinsu's spirit.
Still, not all bad.
"This is pre-stream. Story of folks who gave me my streamer goal?"
Clink— Drag—
"Sorry, first time with stand mic. Bear with it. Buy me one? Anyway, decided on streaming during parcel unloading. Not sorting scan—real man's work."
"Hit Sintan Hub that day."
"Busted into office: 'Hey uncles!' Usual greet. Know their faces? 'Why's a girl like you here? Not your place.' First near-door-slam at logistics office."
I raised my voice in protest, pro-like adjusting mic.
Drag—
"Said sorting support, team lead eyes me up/down: 'Those frail legs hold you up?' Grunted."
"Said I'd prove it, reluctant but took me. Lineup: young dude, high schooler, Irezumi bro next line, Anchovy opposite."
"Belt rolls, I go for sort. Hunker down, pull—"
"Sorry! Unmanned sorting! Wait I'm girl now ok...? Anyway, pulling box—young dude dashes, snatches it. 'Heavy, I'll take it!'"
"Box snatched weirded me, light ones ok but heavy hits—high schooler dashes, yoinks again. 'Sis! Hands hurt!'"
"Don't laugh, bros. Humiliating. Never slacked, cleaned others' shit daily. Others doing my quota? Unthinkable."
I wailed into the mic—gently pushed back for noise.
Two days in, pro streamer.
"12 hours, top dry. No heavy boxes, just scan beep-beep handed ones. Irezumi gifts new gloves, Anchovy ice water tribute...."
"End of shift, ajusshis drag to pork belly—don't touch grill, they pile my plate. Wraps ssam mu, lettuce, garlic. Not baby food."
Gulp— Gulp—
Drained cola, deflated.
"Realized: site work over for me."
Jua delusion? Nah, possible. Viewers split arguing.
Then.
50,000 won from 'Irezumi'.
"...Huh?"
Irezumi from logistics—on deck.