Escaping the Malicious Backseaters and Turrets
Three years ago, I became a woman.
So I tried to take the easy route in internet broadcasting, aiming for that effortless “life on easy mode” path.
But the world wasn’t that kind.
For three years I refused to give up and kept streaming. These were my stats.
Kim Hako – May 2026 Broadcast Stats
Broadcast Time: 148.8 hours
Average Viewers: 23
Peak Viewers: 37
Cumulative Donations: 467,000 KRW
There’s the President.
In other words, there’s that big-spender viewer who covers most of my donations.
The President drops about 300,000 won a month.
Only 300,000 won and you call him President?
Does 300,000 won grow on trees?
Anyone can watch the stream for free without paying a single dime, yet he faithfully sends 300,000 won every single month. That guy is definitely an angel.
But I’m exhausted.
After platform fees, a 500,000-won donation becomes 350,000. Subtract rent, utilities, internet bills, and I’m left with 150,000.
Living on 150,000 won while buying clothes, underwear, and food is no easy task.
I don’t even want pasta anymore.
I switched to pasta because I got sick of ramen, but now pasta has lost its appeal too.
Eating rice with nothing but a pack of seasoned seaweed and a bit of kimchi isn’t something a human being should have to do.
At that point, why not just work part-time at a convenience store? How dare someone earning only 300,000 won a month dream of being a full-time streamer?
I know. I know how abnormal this is.
But the moment I look in the mirror, the reason I can’t get a normal job becomes painfully obvious.
140 centimeters tall!
A face that looks far too young!
If I stepped into society, I’d become an instant target for every lolicon out there!
Outside the blanket, outside the house—everywhere is dangerous.
My muscle strength is pathetic; normal physical labor is impossible with this body.
That’s why I had no choice but to cling to streaming.
“Still, now I have no choice but to get a real job!”
I can’t keep living like this.
“If this last attempt fails, then fine!”
This June, a brand-new internet broadcasting platform is launching.
Close Up—funded and established by the massive conglomerate Ohsung Group.
I have no idea why Ohsung suddenly decided to launch a streaming platform, but the rumor mill said that because a mega-corporation was behind it, the place would be a golden land of opportunity.
Maybe I should try a completely new game. Something like I Am Hero.
I Am Hero is the nation’s top AOS, but I had never touched it before.
I had a bit of a hipster streak, so I originally started streaming the three-player team multiplayer survival game Ultima Project.
Every time I tried switching games, the President would get upset, so I always gave up.
It wasn’t easy to defy someone who sent 300,000 won a month.
Come to think of it, the President was both a truly grateful person and a vicious turret.
His backseat gaming and gatekeeping were pretty severe.
I knew that for a stream to grow, you had to shut that behavior down immediately.
But kicking out someone who donated 300,000 to 500,000 won every month was emotionally impossible.
The terror that the ramen and spaghetti on my table could turn into plain water at any moment.
Still, this time I was really going to do it.
I’m sorry to the viewers, but I’ll have to start on the new platform without any announcement.
It would be a lie to say I hadn’t grown attached, but I also resented them just as much.
My little pack of malicious viewers.
If I actually succeed?
I’ll let you know then.
To the viewers who watched my streams all this time…
I posted a farewell notice on the community page of my old platform.
A person can’t live their entire life earning only 300,000 won a month.
Yoo Jungho had a lot of money.
He was the son of a rich family.
His parents gave him plenty of allowance.
But they had zero interest in their son.
So their son grew up to be a complete scumbag.
“She’s quitting streaming?”
When he saw Kim Hako’s farewell post, his insides started boiling.
It was strange.
He thought he’d feel great if she quit, yet here he was feeling this weird emotion.
“Finally!”
Finally, I won.
Yoo Jungho recalled the past.
Three years ago, Kim Hako and Yoo Jungho had been playing the same RPG.
During a difficult raid, he watched her take charge as raid leader, calmly issuing orders, and fell in love.
When he confessed, she rejected him.
It was an extremely humiliating experience.
So he waited for a chance to get revenge, and then he heard she had started streaming.
Yoo Jungho had connections with many malicious snipers and ghosters.
The spoiled rich kid who loved controlling people with money found the snipers—who moved for pocket change—perfect subordinates.
He ordered them to occupy Kim Hako’s stream, drive away new viewers, and completely take control.
As a result, her channel never grew.
Constant sniping and boosting dropped her into a tier far below her actual skill, and she could never climb back up.
Even if a new viewer happened to drop in, saw her play, and was impressed, the low rank and huge number of games played made them think, Must’ve been a fluke, and move on.
Yoo Jungho thought he was like the male lead in a drama.
If I can’t have it, I’ll destroy it!
Of course, unlike the male leads in those dramas, he was short and ugly.
Even plastic surgery and limb-lengthening procedures couldn’t fix it.
“Who am I supposed to harass now? Tsk.”
He had plenty of money, but being short and ugly meant he couldn’t throw his weight around in real life, so he became an internet tyrant who lived online.
When the girl he had obsessed over for three whole years announced she was quitting, he felt a pang of regret.
So he left comments on her farewell post.
But there was no reply.
Because Hako, having steeled her heart, wasn’t even looking at the comments.
The Ohsung Group’s streaming platform, Close Up, finally opened.
I decided to change my streamer name first.
“People keep calling me Hako this, Hako that, so I feel like that’s why I could never grow out of being a hako. This time let’s go with a name that feels like it’ll actually blow up.”
A fresh start made my heart race.
Even though I’d go bankrupt in three months and be forced into part-time work!
My current bank balance was 1,000,000 won.
If nothing went wrong, that was enough to last three months.
Let’s make this stream take off within those three months!
If I were a viewer, which title would I click?
After careful thought, I put the result in the title and started the broadcast.
“Welcome! Solo-queen 5422, nice to meet you!”
The new viewer still had the default random nickname.
They probably came to taste the new platform from a big company.
They seemed like the frontier type who enjoys new things, so if I streamed well, maybe I could turn them into a regular.
“Where would a middle schooler get an ID card?”
“Wouldn’t that just get me doxxed and posted all over the internet?”
A normal viewer with proper ethics stepping in to check the ID verification troll.
Of course, it was obvious they were a dangerous person who clicked because of the “female middle schooler” in the title.
Before I knew it, I had more than five viewers.
Another viewer expressed dissatisfaction.
Was this a surprise protest demanding I turn the camera on?
“It’s in the stream title. Once I hit 500 viewers, I’ll turn the cam on.”
They got baited by the title but still pointed out how lame it was.
“Who knows? Maybe we’ll hit 500 today and I’ll turn the camera on.”
I launched I Am Hero as I spoke.
A girl playing this national game for the first time.
I believed there would be demand for that.
What if there wasn’t?
Then too bad.
Either way, I had to try.
This new land of opportunity called Close Up.
If I failed even here, I’d be thrown out into the scary real world.
The moment I logged in, the tutorial sucked me in.
I Am Hero was a first-person back-view 3D AOS with heavy fighting-game elements.
WASD to move, mouse to attack.
Q, E, Z, C, Shift, Space, and so on for skills and special moves.
It had hitstun, downs, air combos—the entry barrier was pretty high.
That’s why it was generally considered a bit difficult for women.
They made a few cheerleader-style characters for female players and newbies, but of course this manly woman wasn’t going to pick one of those.
I was just pressing the keys the tutorial told me to, yet people were praising me. Just how low were their expectations for female streamers?
This felt less like praising a person and more like praising my dog Poppi. It gave me complicated feelings.
Not that I actually own a dog.
Pets are expensive—how could a beggar like me even think about raising one?
Before I knew it, I had twenty viewers.
Maybe coming early to an empty house before people decided whether to move or not was finally paying off.
At the same time, I once again realized just how much of a hako I had been for the past three years.
Even so, an average of twenty viewers was still pretty low.
This time, I really want it to work out.