Lee Jua's Side Profile
Screeech—thud!
“Mommy!”
The sudden slam of a door behind me made me reflexively yank the mouse down hard. I whipped it into a vertical drop.
“N-no, not mommy—it was cover! I yelled for cover! Can't get flanked, y'know!”
My face burned as I stammered excuses, and I bolted forward in a panic. It was a narrow straight corridor, pitch black all around, forcing me to stare straight ahead while running.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Footsteps started echoing from behind. Ferocious ones chasing me down, getting closer and closer.
I ran and ran until the noise felt right on my tail. That's when I stopped sprinting and cautiously swung the mouse around.
A ravenous horror thrust its head forward, crimson maw gaping wide with hundreds of razor-sharp teeth, ready to devour me.
“GYAAAAAH!”
For the first time in my life, I let out a dolphin screech. It was so loud the mic distorted, audio cutting in and out.
“KIIYAAAK! Help! Stay back! Get the hammer! Hammer!”
Full panic mode—I mashed the keyboard like a maniac and fled. The horror screeched behind me, hot on my heels. No clue where to go, just sprinting blindly ahead.
The chat spun into chaos, just like my character. Mouse flying everywhere in blind frenzy. Character slamming into walls, tripping over boxes, staggering.
“AAAAH! Path blocked! Where's the door! Door!”
Shaking like a leaf, I barely spotted the vent entrance and crawled inside.
“...Can't fit, right? Won't come, yeah? This spot's made for hiding, obvious. No way in.”
But against my hopes, the horror scraped at the vent mouth, then crammed itself inside like a rag.
“KIIYAAAK! You psycho! Why the hell you coming in here!”
Trembling in max terror, I clicked the mouse wildly and dashed forward. Hit the end of the vent—a broken catwalk.
My frantic blue palm blasts reached up, slapping toward the heavy metal crate dangling overhead.
Rumble—BOOM!
The massive crate crashed down, flooding the catwalk. The pursuing horror had no room and plummeted below, casually strolling off somewhere.
“Huff... huff... whew... whew...”
I let go of the mouse and faceplanted on the desk. Heart pounding like it’d leap out, drenched in cold sweat everywhere.
Period cramps? Didn’t feel a thing. No discomfort, no annoyance from it. Headaches, toothaches, cramps—horror games cure 'em all.
“Fuuuck... who the hell made me do this...”
I mumbled into the keyboard, voice hoarse like I’d collapse any second.
Shit.
That's when I remembered the hand cam was on. Angle-wise, full front probably not, but side profile? Definitely broadcasted.
And sure enough, the chat was a festival.
Seeing the chat's frenzy late, I finally realized I was fucked. Cramps, horror mug, macho pride shattered—none of it mattered now.
Face... my face leaked? How much?
I opened Prism Studio in the screen corner, found the replay, and clicked.
Prism Studio auto-saves highlight clips from broadcasts—deletes at next stream start. Peak chat flames, streamer decibels spiking, viewer surges.
That moment had chat exploding, so probably saved.
Sure enough, video there. I clicked it.
["Huff... huff... whew... whew...."]
Lee Jua collapsing onto the keyboard, gasping desperately.
Cam showed a small 5 o'clock sector, but it was plenty. Chat flooded. Crystal-clear shot of me sprawled on the desk—pale cheek peeking through fallen hair, nose bridge, big eyes, lips. Full side profile broadcasted.
["Fuuuck... who the hell made me do this...."]
Hair fell over most after collapse, but features still screamed presence.
“Ah... fuck.”
A sigh-laced curse slipped out.
‘JuaJuaYa’ donated 10,000 won.
[Slow-mo of Jua collapsing on keyboard, side profile revealed]
‘LeeJuaMyJua’ donated 30,000 won.
[Jua collapsing on keyboard, side profile reveal video]
‘Anon’ donated 10,000 won.
As video and regular donations poured in from viewers...
“Th-this isn't me. Not my face, for real.”
I gripped the mic, desperately denying. “Screen's... distorted. Cheap lens blurs bad, I'm actually kinda rough-looking? That's like... filter, Photoshop stuff.”
“For real, bros... it's fake. Hired a stunt double.”
The more I flailed, the louder and deeper the chat laughter bloomed.
And at this insane timing...
‘Odin’ donated 50,000 won.
— Just tuned in, Jua-nim face reveal? Shoulda done cafe collab.
“...Huh? Odin-nim?”
I froze. My idol, senior, role model Odin live-watched me squealing like a girl and leaking my face.
Odin's donation sparked it—lurking streamers in my broadcast started donating.
‘Zeus’ donated 50,000 won.
— Shoulda done cafe collab.
“...Zeus-nim?”
‘Panjeo’ donated 50,000 won.
— Shoulda done cafe collab.
“Panjeo-nim too?!”
‘Teo’ donated 50,000 won.
— Shoulda done cafe collab.
“...Teo-nim too?”
‘Yura’ donated 50,000 won.
— Shoulda done cafe collab.
“Even you, Yura...”
I was dumbfounded. Hands on cam shaking like Parkinson's.
“...So like 20,000 folks saw my face now? Those 20k turn into cuckoos spreading it... O... now the whole nation knows me. Wow.”
Thought she was chill tomboy with good voice and game skills—but accidental side profile blew expectations out the water. Viewers' dopamine exploding.
Streamers I knew swarmed in, blasting donations—dopamine fireworks.
Viewers laughed like they'd done drugs. I was losing my mind.
“Fun game today, right? Peace out everyone.”
> Broadcast ended.