123 - The Editor
“Whoa, that looks super sweet just staring at it. Is it good?”
“...No.”
“I totally forgot they actually moved the shop! Sorry for making you wander around. Wanna stop being mad at me now?”
Under Nami's sharp glare, Maru scratched his head with an awkward smile. While the choco java chip was slurped up through the straw, Maru stirred the ice in his iced Americano.
Her cherry-like lips, parted from the straw, mumbled.
“I'm not mad. I was just thinking a bit about the one who didn't keep the time promise.”
“Class prez held us up late today... But I ran here as fast as I could.”
As Maru said, his hair was soaked with sweat. In fact, when he had burst into the café still in his dirt-streaked work clothes without even changing, Nami had already somewhat understood his situation.
“Then how about quitting that job you're doing now?”
“Huh? Suddenly? Even if it's tough, how many places pay as well as this? The foreman might be strict, but he's a good guy at heart. Not that—”
“How much do you want?”
Before Maru could finish, Nami spun a sheet of paper 180 degrees and slid it toward him.
Twitch streamer NoName (hereinafter referred to as “Party A”) and VTube editor “[Blank]” (hereinafter referred to as “Party B”) hereby enter into this joint venture contract for the purpose of profit sharing from the joint operation of VTube content, as follows.
As Maru carefully scanned the paper, Nami corrected the misconception.
“No, I'm the one doing it.”
“You? Wow, impressive for such a young kid! I hear all elementary schoolers these days dream of being internet streamers?”
“Not sure about that.”
“Nah, I already owe you one, so you don't need to go through all this formal contract stuff. I can do simple edits for free anytime—no money involved. But seriously, where'd you even print this contract from?”
Maru held the paper up to the café lights in amazement. Nami's eyes narrowed for a moment.
No sense of time, no seriousness. I thought he was super mature, but can I really trust him with this?
Reminding herself it was all for Yuna and her family, Nami pulled a thick envelope from her bag and offered it to Maru.
“Here, take it. I'd appreciate it if you quit your job today after accepting this.”
“Huh? What's this? Hmm... Whoaaaaa!”
The moment he opened the envelope, stacks of yellow bills greeted him, sending Maru's chair toppling backward with a crash.
Clatter— The clerk, already eyeing them sourly, looked even more displeased. Nami bowed in apology on his behalf and helped Maru to his feet.
“What are you doing in a café?”
“M-Money... You came all the way here carrying this alone? What if you'd lost it!”
The envelope held an amount no child should be carrying around. Even in 10,000-won bills, it was enough for a buffet and more.
“It's an advance of 5 million won for now.”
“Huh?”
“Buy a computer or another capsule with it. Or take Yuna out to eat.”
“You're serious? Do you even know how much money that is?”
Maru's face stiffened. He sweated all day for three or four bills like that. He couldn't fathom why Nami handed it over so casually.
“I know. That's why I'm giving it.”
At Nami's innocent expression, Maru pressed his forehead.
“No, I can't take this. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“There's some misunderstanding.”
Nami paused mid-sentence to sip her frappe. When she pulled the cup away, a bit of white cream dotted her lips.
“I'm seriously trying to hire you as my editor. This isn't charity or volunteering.”
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Even that simple gesture exuded elegance, like a European noble.
“The first month might not generate revenue even if we upload. That's why the 5 million. After that, you take everything up to 5 million per month. Anything over is 50-50 as per the contract. I'll hold Yuna's share for later.”
“Hold on...”
Listening to her earnest words, Maru reread the contract carefully. It wasn't child's play—the clauses covered profit splits and minute details.
Lowering the paper revealed the face of an eight-year-old girl peeking out.
“So, do you want to do it now?”
Maru hesitated under her gentle smile before answering.
“No. I still don't think so.”
“Why?”
Unprepared for outright refusal, Nami touched her forehead in dismay. Arms crossed in stubborn resolve, she asked his reason.
Maru's point was simple: he'd do a side gig, but he couldn't abandon his main livelihood. Editing pay was unknown, but his current job sufficed, with no room for risky ventures. It showed his responsibility as family head.
But Nami picked up the envelope again.
“Oppa, you know this? I earned this in one day.”
“Eh?”
“Actually not even a full day. Daily withdrawal limit's 500k max, so I probably made more.”
“For real? What kind of stream is that? Kids' channels make bank like this?”
Maru reeled from the unimaginable truth, muttering about feeding Yuna jajangmyeon instead...
“Not a kids' channel.”
Nami tilted her head briefly, then laid out her recording memory on the table. The blue hologram shifted to a white background, flashing yesterday's gameplay footage wildly.
“Played World of Arceria?”
“Huh? Yeah, a ton back in the day. Been a while though.”
He didn't watch all 12 hours—just skimmed about five minutes before pausing.
“20,000 live viewers—that's huge, right?”
“Can't call it small.”
“I knew you were amazing, but the more I learn, the more mysterious you get.”
“So you'll do it? Make it happen.”
As irritation built, Nami snapped.
“Fine. No, I should thank you for this chance. But really, am I good enough? You could find pros easily.”
“Yuna told me. Her oppa draws the best pictures in the world. Videos can be roughly cut and uploaded—editing improves naturally. What I really need is thumbnails.”
“Thumbnails?”
Nami opened the VTube app and scrolled real-time popular videos. All used raw in-game screenshots.
“Not like this. Draw custom thumbnails for each video. I don't want editing to feel like rote labor for you. That way, you can proudly show Yuna your work later.”
“So you called me because...”
Maru's eyes trembled as he alternated between hologram and contract. He'd long forgotten the dream he'd shelved.
“Yuna still hopes you'll become a cool illustrator. Still holding that dream?”
“Yeah... I am...”
Overwhelmed, Maru bit his lip. A future sacrificed for family—and opportunity from the unlikeliest place.
“True art isn't mere imitation of phenomena. It grasps essence, reflects deeply, reinterprets uniquely to reveal value. I believe you can do that.”
“Talk like that... who could see you as a kid?”
Chuckling, Maru looked at the girl proudly.
“Thanks... I'll never forget this favor.”
Blushing awkwardly, Nami handed him a pen.
“Good. You'll take it? I'll message details. Just sign here—that's why I called you today.”
“Start today then?”
“What? You already quit. Go home, buy Yuna something tasty.”
“But with this much money...”
“I didn't give you money.”
What Nami meant went beyond cash. Packing her binder and recorder, she said,
“It's time no fortune could buy. Hope you make great memories with family. Greet your mom for me.”
Not money, but time—and friendship, love, memories, happiness. Hoping he'd grasp it before regrets, Nami gathered her things and left the café.
A massive hologram in the blue sky broadcast news of World of Arceria users protesting.
'They said they'd complain about bad food.'
Vowing to show what a real problem customer was, Nami pulled out her phone and dialed.