Chapter 17
I had suspicious neighbors in my apartment.
The accommodation provided by Black Hole Media was an apartment. It had a security center that doubled as a lobby on the first floor, and since outsider access was strictly controlled, it was a safe place.
Thanks to that, I had to go down to the first floor for any deliveries or packages, and if I needed to call in outside workers I’d have to fill out an access log. Still, for a small, cute streamer like me, it was an incredibly reassuring living space.
My first meeting with them happened in the basement trash room on the first floor.
I slipped between the four people sorting their recyclables, dumped my garbage, and tried to slip right back out. But the timing was terrible. We all ended up on the same elevator.
And by some cruel coincidence, we got off on the same floor.
Unless they had deliberately followed me.
Are they my neighbors?
The moment for greeting had already passed into awkward territory. True to the cold, desolate nature of modern city life, I tried to head inside without saying a word, but one of the women suddenly leaned toward me.
"Are you the streamer Kim Haru?"
"Eek?!"
I was startled. How the hell did she know that? Was I already being stalked?
"That reaction tells me I’m right. We’re part of the Black Hole Media family too. If it’s okay with you, could we talk for a bit?"
The aggressively forward woman practically pushed her way toward my door. It was clearly an appeal to be invited inside as a guest.
I had no choice but to accept. Causing a commotion in the hallway and letting everyone find out that this was streamer Kim Haru’s place would be troublesome.
"I’m Bravery’s leader, Yuu."
"I’m Green."
"I’m Meloni."
"You can call me Hana."
They turned out to be a virtual idol group. In other words, VTubers—people who had to hide their real faces even more than I did.
"With faces like those, why are you VTubers?"
"Shouldn’t we be asking you that, Haru?"
All four of them were stunning beauties. At this point it wasn’t a red pill; it was a blue pill. They could have guided anyone straight to dreamland.
But why VTubers? It was the same question that applied to me.
"I don’t have anything to serve you."
"We can just order coffee."
"What would you like? Iced Americano?"
"Haru would look better with a frappé than an iced Americano."
I was the homeowner, yet they were placing orders among themselves.
"Ever since the boss told us about you, I’ve been dying to meet you in person. I’m glad we finally got to say hello."
The full story was this: all the Bravery members already knew this apartment belonged to Black Hole Media. Their CEO, Kang Ichae, had stopped by their dorm and mentioned that a new housemate had moved in next door.
"I had no idea she’d be this adorable!"
"It feels like I suddenly have a little sister!"
"Want some snacks?"
The apartment was over 1300 square feet. I had thought it felt too big and empty for one person. But I definitely hadn’t wished for a bunch of loud, chaotic girls to come barging in.
Hurry up and drink your coffee and leave. You’re draining my energy.
Compared to CEO Kang Ichae, who was an extreme fan of cute girls and knew the streaming ecosystem inside out, the Bravery members were still lacking in that department. Even though ninety-nine percent of their viewers were male, they didn’t seem to understand male-dominated online culture very well.
"So that’s how it is! How do you understand men’s psychology so well? Can I call you Master?"
"Even though I look like this, I’m actually an incredible dating expert?"
"Looking like that just sounds like an insult."
"It means you look pure and cute!"
Surrounded by four women who all had slightly different looks and styles, any normal guy would have been in heaven. But my ears felt like they were about to bleed.
This is what veteran streamers are like.
They were virtual idols whose main content was exactly this—chatting and singing. Once they turned on their streams they could talk for two or three hours straight. It was an occupational disease; once conversation started, they literally couldn’t stop.
After two hours of conversational torture, each member asked one by one.
"Can we talk about meeting you on our streams?"
No matter how much they loved chatting and how talented they were, doing two or three hours every single day meant they eventually ran out of topics. To these girls starving for chat content, I gladly gave permission to sell the story of our meeting.
Without imagining what kind of butterfly effect it would cause.
(Roughly a video of Green chatting.)
The four-minute clip contained the word “cute” thirty-one times. Just what does Kim Haru look like?
(Roughly a video of Yuu chatting.)
Animals used in the comparison: hamster, guinea pig, raccoon, baby panda.
Isn’t this way beyond imagination?
This super-soldier, genetically enhanced body had one weakness: terrible stamina. That was why, despite maintaining a ninety-percent win rate, I still hadn’t reached Challenger.
It was only natural. I couldn’t even play ten games a day before ending stream. At least another week of grinding would be needed before I entered the ranker range.
Another reason it was taking so long was the queue time for ranked games. Because of that, even though I had planned to be a pure gaming streamer with zero interest in chatting, I ended up talking about all sorts of things.
Young people these days are sensitive about fairness, so I couldn’t answer carelessly.
"Is it all because I’m too cute?"
The chat’s reaction was extremely intense. I hated it when viewers saw me as a romantic interest or as a woman they liked, which was why I deliberately used the cheap Gaeharu avatar and acted silly.
That was why this kind of heated chat reaction was actually welcome.
As expected, there are no yuksu in my stream.
It was a clean, pure chat room.
At first I thought it couldn’t be true, but after a moment I realized it was entirely possible. Internet journalists these days wrote articles about literally anything. Most of them didn’t even seem to take qualification exams. They just scraped posts from various communities and rewrote them.
The article content was exactly as expected. Why would Black Hole Media recruit a low-tier streamer like Kim Haru? If it was a news article it should deliver information, not just write about how curious they were, right? But that was internet news for you.
I closed it with a mental shrug.
It was true that I had shown incredible skill and growth. I had broken several Challenger players’ wrists on stream. But in the world of I Am Hero, simply being good wasn’t enough to be acknowledged. You had to win tournaments, not just climb to number one in solo queue. And not just any tournament—global pro league events.
For someone like me who had zero intention of revealing my face and competing, that was impossible. So my limit was simply being a skilled solo ranker streamer. No matter what advantages I had, that alone couldn’t make me the pinnacle of the streaming world.
I clicked on the ID of the viewer who posted the sudden attack, scoped in, and spoke.
"What the hell is this sneak diss? Make your excuse. If you show me a miraculous speech I’ll at least spare your life."
Seven-day ban. I liked WWE references, but doing them without any context was not allowed. Read the room and ride the flow.
When the hell was the queue going to pop? Before that, a sudden anti-fan donation exploded. I checked thinking it was one of my regulars doing their usual trolling, but it was a new follower who had just joined today.
Mission canceled!
What era did this guy think we were in, waving money around demanding cam? That kind of thing should have died ten years ago. Still, it looked like my follower count was rising much faster than yesterday or the day before. Was there really such a thing as “cuteness” influx?
If so, that would clearly be the worst generation, on par with the “AAA” influx. New viewers were scary.