286 - Vlog
(Huge thanks to everyone who cheered us on in today's match!)
“What the viewer just claimed about the total quantity of happiness can be seen as a form of utilitarianism, but are you aware that utilitarianism can also incorporate a qualitative aspect? I simply chose the pain of a brief, searing arm over the prolonged suffering of defeat in this match. Personally, I find that version far superior in quality. Of course, if we factor in the happiness of the audience watching, one could argue my actions were socially wrong—but in this context, please distinguish between inside and outside the arena. We came to fight, not to put on a play, right?”
Eventually, her managers stepped in to mediate.
Nami narrowed her eyes and nodded reluctantly. While she stepped away from the room briefly, the managers and viewers dove into an emergency strategy session.
Stuck on this dilemma, the final manager dropped a brilliant solution.
Weeeeeng— A grating noise pierced my ears from morning. No scientific proof that fall mosquitoes bite harder than summer ones, but either way, they ruined my sleep. I tossed and turned in a hazy stream of consciousness before finally cracking my eyes open.
Weeeeeng—
A low-noise drone hovered in the air. True to magitech, four magic circles—one per direction—kept the gadget afloat.
The faceless machine greeted me in a cheekily natural voice. I furrowed my brow and muttered hoarsely.
“What kind of drone has a speaker attached... Ahh... What time is it...”
“I usually get up at 7:15... Ugh...”
My eyes drifted shut again. Just as my foggy mind plunged into deep ocean depths, an angry wave crashed, hauling my consciousness back to the surface.
Weeeeeng—!Click-click-click—!
The drone shifted positions relentlessly, blasting noise pollution from all sides until I bolted upright, unable to take it.
“You know I busted my ass all day yesterday. Ughhh, why are you so desperate to torment me.”
“Adella, please...!”
Whoosh— No use glaring at the drone zipping around the room. While I was off-stream last night, the managers had already conspired among themselves to film my vlog. I refused, of course, but they even roped in Professor Cheon to force it through.
Basically strong-armed. And Adella was set to pilot the drone like a VR game, capturing my every move.
“Hey, don't come in here.”
“Shoo shoo.”
Thud— It even tried following me into the bathroom. After a quick shower, I dragged a towel across the floor, dripping wet hair and all. I wiped the droplets from the ends with the towel underfoot. Breakfast: a strip of bacon and a soft-boiled egg speared on a fork. This tiny body bloats if I add bread crumbs—ruins digestion all day—so I just curbed the hunger lightly. Towel to the hamper, back to the bathroom for my toothbrush. Sat demurely before the full-length mirror brushing.
I'd pre-braided my hair into two sections, casting warm breeze magic circles on each. No brushing needed—the hair set like after a straightener. Glossy strands were a bonus.
“Wait outside the room a sec.”
“What? Wanna die?”
Shooed out the peeping tom and changed into uniform. Unlike Arabyeol Elementary, Seferon Academy offered bloomer-style skirts. Mindset shift: baggy shorts with lacy frills—comfy enough. Rinse mouth in the bathroom, and prep done.
“Off to school.”
“Alright, be safe!”
Professor Cheon's commute varies. Today I left first, catching his send-off.
Waiting for academy kids outside the apartment, I scrolled news and updates on my phone. The drone hovered over my shoulder, filming the screen.
“Just today's news and... latest academic papers.”
“Pathfinding via Oloid polyhedra. Lets you skip 80% of circuit runes in specific rotational magic circles.”
“That serious?”
Korean time means friends always run 3 minutes late. Ji-hye and Se-ri waved from afar, sprinting over.
“Kyaaaa! NoNaaameeee!”
Swedish halfie Han Se-ri charged like a runaway train, platinum hair flying, no rearview. I weaving-dodged her wide-open hug.
“What's with the morning ruckus.”
“Yesterday's match was the best! I knew it! NoName's the strongest in the world!”
“Yeah yeah, got it—let go. Talk while walking. Hey Ji-hye, you good? Made it home okay?”
“Yeah...! Partied with Mom and Dad? But I hurt so bad I stayed on the couch. Mom fed me de-boned chicken. You okay, Nami?”
“Sore all over. Nowhere doesn't ache.”
“Whiiiine, you shouldn't hurt...!”
Intense match, yet back to school next day. Elementary division perk. Middle school gets a week off post-fierce bouts; we get zilch. Here I was, 1v5 warrior turned next-day student. Isn't this actual child abuse?