Before On Air
"La-la-la-la, la-la-la… Ah, ah. Mic check. Mic check. Hello everyone, it's Harmony."
It was 8 PM in real time. Harmony's broadcast had just gone live, and viewers were flooding in. Messages surged like waves from the two chat windows visible beyond the camera's view. One was shared with the virtual-reality-connected viewers watching at the same broadcast speed as Harmony herself; the other was for those watching at normal 1x speed in the real world.
Recently, a feature had emerged that let people connected via VR headsets watch the stream at the same speed through real-time rendering, though it was still considered a work in progress.
The viewer count climbed rapidly, hitting 5,000 before the growth began to slow. That was because she'd already drawn in a stable audience through her Dark Zone playthroughs, and the sudden influx of dozens of percent more viewers from that content had pushed the numbers up.
Whether these newcomers would fully integrate into her broadcast was unclear, but in practice, it hardly mattered.
"Well… Dark Zone, I'm not sure. If I do play it, I'd probably go solo today, or gather some people at a café and push through a mission or something."
She followed up with a calm explanation of the situation. Having spent several days shadowing Eugene and sharing half his experiences, she'd quickly picked up on the shifting public sentiment and had prepared a response.
The chat window erupted into chaos almost instantly, but that was unavoidable. And the very reason she'd turned on her broadcast today was to give a clear answer on this matter.
Before things spirled out of control, she spoke up quickly.
"First off, this is just a simple talk segment before any gameplay, so I have one brief announcement for everyone. Please don't worry—I'm not saying I've had a falling out with that person or anything…"
A brief gesture of her hand.
In response to her movement, several photos and what appeared to be documents floated up into the air above her. And on the far right, a single link.
As the chat window filled with question marks and confusion, the streamer they were watching began her explanation in a calm, measured voice—pouring oil on the fire.
"Some of you might be wondering what this is, but to put it simply… ah, this is a formal statement delivered directly to Eugene by Icarus International. You'll all be able to see it in a few days, but I got permission from the person involved to show it to you first."
The first page zoomed in.
The phoenix embossing—also Icarus International's mark—was faintly stamped across the entire sheet of paper, and above it, bold black lettering stood out with striking clarity.
An absolutely authoritative format that no one could dispute.
The contents were unambiguous.
RE: Regarding Alleged Use of Illegal Programs by Dark Zone User: Eugene
Over the past several days, our customer service center has received numerous inquiries regarding this matter. However, based on our analysis of movement and action logs, we wish to first inform you that no evidence of any illegal program usage has been found.
Furthermore, to ensure thorough verification, we conducted testing using our own proprietary equipment. The headquarters hereby officially confirms that no intervention by any illegal program was detected throughout this process and its results.
The physical examination and testing procedures were recorded on video as evidence. For the privacy of the user undergoing testing, their appearance has been edited to display as an avatar.
Additional details…
Back when Dark Zone was still connected to the internet network, there had been an uncountable flood of hacks—and more hack users than types of hacks. But through countless patches, they had all been sunk miserably and never returned.
Even users who stubbornly denied the facts would crumble helplessly when told to come to headquarters and prove it themselves.
Thus, paradoxically, proof delivered directly from the headquarters carried an authority and stability that nothing else could match.
Even though much of it was just text and took longer to understand than expected, the result was more than worth the effort.
Confirming that the chat was reacting exactly as anticipated, Harmony spoke up.
"Alright, alright. I can't show all of this here, but the reason I'm bringing this up today is because Eugene will be turning on his own broadcast in a few days to show this himself. Not only that—Icarus staff members will also be appearing to testify that Eugene isn't a hacker, so please make sure to tune in."
A brief silence—though, of course, the chat window remained an absolute mess.
Normally, this would be the point where donations and questions would start pouring in, but surprisingly, that wasn't happening.
So Harmony broke the silence by answering a question she'd anticipated beforehand.
"The reason I'm saying this on my broadcast is really nothing special. It's just that it's nearly impossible for Eugene to go around officially clarifying things one by one, right? Even if he promoted it on his site, it would still take a lot of time. So I figured I'd just tell you all. In a way, it's mutual help, you know."
With that, she wrapped up and ended the Just Chatting segment with an addendum.
"Alright, so. Whether I play Dark Zone today or not is still uncertain, so I'll play some warm-up games first, check how time's going, and decide then."
And the game turned on.
An absurdly overwhelming pixel aesthetic. Following the bizarre in-game visuals, a unicorn of unmistakably strange appearance stood planted on the ground.
Against the backdrop of a purple horizon and a chat window that had instantly turned weird, the game began.
"Alright! Today's warm-up game is… Horse Run! Where you control each of the unicorn's legs one by one with your keyboard to reach the destination! A brand-new trash game I just dug up online! Let's get started────!"
"Ah, SuckerWatt! Thank you so much for the ₩40,000 donation!"
She followed up immediately.
"But I plan to use your donations very well—not just for my editor's salary, rent, food, phone bill, and savings, but also for buying trash games like this one. Thank you all so much for the donations today!"
A single donation spoke for the hearts of every viewer.
Of course, after that, she spent over five hours playing trash games to discipline her audience—and the fact that this was merely the opening salvo of her broadcast went without saying.
"I never thought I'd end up doing broadcast prep."
"It's a pretty good experience, isn't it? I bet it'll be fun?"
How had things come to this?
He didn't know the full story, but with the broadcast now imminent, it felt more absurd than he'd expected. He'd just played the game as those mysterious people had told him to—and yet, in barely ten days, all of this had happened.
It was a lot. A lot, really. In a way, it was irony itself.
Still, he didn't feel nervous or anything like that. He'd been through too many serious things to get jittery over something like this.
If there had been anything suspicious about himself, that would've been different—but he'd spent these past few days running around the Icarus building, checking every single detail down to the smallest thing.
And as expected, there was no trace of hacks—specifically, no evidence of illegal program usage. Would there be?
In fact, the hack rumors were still circulating so much that it was becoming a topic of bewilderment among the staff themselves. Did he really need to explain further?
Harmony, who had been checking something, added to him.
"It looks like the server assignment came through, so you must have applied to be a streamer. Any plans to broadcast going forward?"
"If I don't have anything else to do, that sounds fine."
If he'd ended up in the United States… once his identity issues were sorted, he might have run a shooting range or joined a tactical consulting firm. But unfortunately, this wasn't America—it was Korea.
…And yet, for some reason, Harmony's expression looked odd. Specifically, it was the kind of look someone wore when they were really, really looking forward to something. He'd thrown out the comment without thinking much of it—why was she reacting like that?
"So when are you thinking of broadcasting? Will it be at a fixed time?"
"You're pushing it, aren't you."
"I thought it sounded pretty good, though…"
Then she continued.
"It's just the two of us talking, but… I think it'd be better for Eugene to go independent as a streamer. My current broadcast is basically dependent on one user, you know?"
"That's true, in a way."
"With VR games coming out, it's eased up a lot, but honestly, back in the day, there would've been weirdos complaining about some random fixed-time regular member…"
So that was the struggle of being a streamer. There was a lot to keep track of.
If he did broadcast, he'd definitely need considerable preparation for things like this. Maybe that was why he hadn't answered as seriously as he could have—he already knew this.
The room, which had been completely empty—literally bare—filled with furniture and a microphone at a single gesture from Harmony. This wasn't her first time doing it.
Inside, he was quite flustered, forcibly stuffing down thoughts of "what is this," and only occasionally vetoing items that seemed too flashy.
As time passed, the room before his eyes took on the appearance of having been rather heavily renovated.
He wondered if starting his first broadcast with a room this visually loud would be okay—but if it ended up being weird later, he could just buy and apply a nice interior design.
"Besides me, two other people will be sitting, so I need two more chairs."
"Ah, right. You said Icarus staff would be sitting there? How did you arrange that…"
"I found out during the physical exam."
"Oh, right, you said you went to their building."
The conversation seemed to be going off-track, but there was no real reason to correct it now. He was curious what the reaction would be when the truth came out later.
Even though they'd exchanged numbers and talked quite a bit up to this point, to be honest, they hadn't even made a single phone call.
Anyway, he decided to leave that for later. Before he knew it, the broadcast preparations were complete.
The mint-flavored cat looked at him with a satisfied expression and continued her explanation.
"All set. You could broadcast right now without any major issues. I'll walk you through the finer settings as we go, so feel free to ask questions whenever you want."
"I've gotten a lot of help from you. Thank you."
"I got a whole handful of help too, you know. Don't feel burdened by a natural kindness."
At that, he simply nodded slightly.
It was a day not long before the broadcast.