Warehouse Wild Stream
Beep—! The piercing signal blared, announcing the start of work. The conveyor belt jolted with a clunk, then hummed to life as it began to move.
"Brothers, I gotta get to actual work now. I'll leave the camera fixed here, so keep chatting while you watch. I'll pop over whenever I get a break to talk."
Lee Jua propped her phone up on the spot she'd prepared in advance. The camera angle captured her from the chest up—no face, just the dynamic shots of her lifting and carrying boxes. She was wrapped up tight in a black mask and black cap like some celebrity in hiding. Even if her face slipped into frame during a bend or stretch, only her eyes would show.
Wearing the 4M coated gloves Irezumi had given her, she clapped her hands—smack-smack—to hype herself up.
Today's the day I pull my full weight.
Rumble—boxes started pouring down the rail.
Clueless to the chaos in chat, Jua dove into work. She scanned invoice numbers with quick eyes and started knocking boxes toward line 13. At first, it was mostly light vinyl packs and small boxes. Scraps get shoved in at the end of sorting, and before unloading big ones, you clear the little stuff jammed around them—so early waves were fast and light.
Swipe—pull, thunk—stamp, shove along the loading rail. Figuring it was time for some self-praise in chat, she glanced at the phone box.
Just a blur of text scrolling up. No time to stare anyway.
Chat ignored her work entirely, fixated on her silhouette.
Expecting a flood of compliments, Jua felt strength surge through her.
Heh, laborer's pride lives on? Chat flying fast?
Scraps tapered off; heavy boxes rolled in for real. Jua recalled her Lee Jinsu days: brace legs, straight back, yank toward body, lift slight… lift…
Uh, what?
A box she'd have yanked one-handed coolly back then? No dice now. Arms trembled. The box kept inching on the belt. Holding it from slipping was her limit. Legs and core straining, it barely budged.
Viewers burst out laughing at her grunting struggle. Beauty hype vanished amid the comedy.
"N-no! Brothers! It's the gloves slipping! For real!"
Chat invisible to her, but she knew they were roasting. Blurted excuses first. Too far for mic anyway, but image of alpha male Yeopo at stake—no thought to that. Pure blue-collar panic.
…I'm a girl now? It's fine. Rationalized instantly.
Debating dumping it inside the rail—
"Whoa, Jua, don't push it."
Sudden huge hand from behind snatched the box easy. Irezumi hyung.
"…I-I coulda done it."
"Yeah, sure. Gloves slipping tho, seemed like."
Irezumi brushed it off, yanking heavy boxes to line 13 in seconds.
"Jua, chat time. Go mingle—you got a breather now."
"Ah… yeah…"
Jua shuffled to the phone stand, cheeks burning. Knew what chat said without looking.
…Gloves really were slippery. Muttered excuses inwardly, but she knew: 20kg box too much for her fluff now.
Peeked at chat: as expected, mocks of her weakass physique everywhere. Rest still thirsting over looks. Total mess.
"No brothers, gloves slipped fr. That box was at least 30kg. If I wanted, I'd hoist and smash it—but fragile contents, so gentle…"
Excuses piled up, but viewers just laughed harder.
Then, noise from next rail.
"Jua, take a break. I got you."
Anchovy—Minjung this time. Irezumi on sorting, only Park Gun on loading. Minjung dashed over, stood by Park Gun.
"…Won't line 14 backlog?"
"Nah, our line ajusshi hands are fast."
Jua glanced: lone ajusshi on 14, gaping at Minjung mouthing curses. Minjung grinned wide anyway, grabbed boxes Irezumi sent, loaded trailer zip-zip.
"No brothers, I didn't ask! Came to work fr. Hey… Anchovy—no, Minjung! Back to 14! We got this!"
Fuming Jua demanded return, but Minjung held firm, flashed grin.
"Don't overdo. Got Kill Bet too. Manage stamina."
"Kill Bet is Kill Bet, logistics is—wait?"
Jua startled. Minjung watched her stream too.
Begged secrecy on stream. Might as well hang a "Streamer Jua Wild Streaming" banner at Sintan Hub entrance.
"…You watched my stream?"
Cautious ask; Minjung loaded on, shy reply.
"Yeah, Battlelands player. Browse Prism sometimes, saw Jua—voice matched."
"…Ah…"
Jua facepalmed. Didn't think real name stream would bite back.
"…'Anchovy' no insult—just low body fat, slim toned muscle…"
Damage control first. "Anchovy" insults any guy, but tried.
"Nah fine. Know I'm anchovy-like. Feels like cute nick, good."
"G…good."
Irezumi sorts. Scans too. Park Gun and Anchovy load. Jua jobless again.
"…Okay. Real work you hunt. Wait for orders? Labeled hack. 'No initiative' curse. Who am I? Labor ace. Make work where none—that's the title."
Empty pallet in corner. Gotta stack 'em end of shift anyway.
Good, move that.
Logistics pallets 15-20kg. Boxes grip bad, fine. Pallet? No way.
Aimed phone, strode bold. Gripped corners firm. Legs braced, heaved.
Hnnng—!
One corner lifted slight—thud back down.
…Fuck?
Panicked retry. Slim arms quivered. Higher this time. Squeezed every ounce to upright it… but diagonal lean pushed it back.
"Krrgh!" Dropped it.
"Stack at end. Leave it!"
"…Yeah."
Back to phone.
"N-no brothers, pallet waterlogged heavy… oak made?"