Skeleton Knight Mazia (3)

Momo was torn between grinding through work, streaming, or pulling gacha, but the second she heard that I had switched to the Skeleton Knight hidden class, she parked her character in a safe spot and instantly pulled up my stream as a picture-in-picture window. Getting the hidden class was great and all, but she seemed worried about what came after.

What she saw was a staggering nineteen thousand viewers.

“Wow, that’s a crazy amount of people.”

It was far too many for me to handle alone. The fifteen thousand who showed up for my monthly review show Fantasia ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were all relatively tame Parallel fans. This was different. People from every community were flooding in, curious about who Mazia was and what this hidden class even meant. One wrong move and the stream would implode instantly.

I should help…

But right as Momo was about to send me a message through DingTalk and the in-game chat, I had already made up my mind and put my plan into action.

It was clearly a dangerous wave that looked impossible for me to handle. Yet I rode it successfully. Instead of being swept away, I stood firm and said exactly what I needed to say.

That didn’t mean there was nothing for Momo to point out. It wasn’t that I had no flaws; my talent had simply kept them hidden until now. Compared to the very beginning of my streaming career, I was definitely better, but my eyes had gone a little wild with the thought that this was my only chance. It came across as overhyping things in the name of promotion.

Still a bit green… but she learns fast.

Thankfully Pino dropped a perfectly timed donation and prevented the mood from exploding in the wrong direction. I seemed to realize something in that moment and immediately changed course. Since I now understood how high the interest in the Skeleton Knight was, I chose to naturally showcase both myself and the other members together. It was the perfect move—capturing people’s attention while promoting the team at the same time.

I lost about four thousand viewers as a result, but I still held on to sixteen thousand. And Momo hadn’t even stepped in to help. For a streaming beginner, that was an impressive feat. Most important of all, my momentum hadn’t broken.

One of the biggest problems for small streamers is the regret and emotional crash that follows when they recognize their own mistake. Anyone can mess up, but whether you reset your mindset and grab the wheel again—or fail to—decides if your broadcast sinks or sails smoothly.

At the very least, even after pulling off that acrobatic feat, I was already calmly stepping into the next phase without collapsing. I acknowledged my mistake but refused to let it break me. It looked like I was already thinking about what to do from here on out.

Momo had learned the A-to-Z of group promotion through trial and error on the previous server, so even though there had been a crisis, I was clearly going to grow even bigger from it.

Maru had already been in the spotlight as a starting member for Wicker Town Season 2, and her live viewer count had now reached nine thousand. The 1st Generation members were good at handling sudden surges in traffic, so it felt like the right move to just give me some appropriate advice for now.

She must have been busy; the reply didn’t come right away, but the “1” next to the message disappeared.

“…Well, it looks like things worked out decently. Time for me to get back to mining.”

“Jia’s doing well, so I have to earn money. When Jia promotes, I earn. When Jia earns, I promote. We brought her on to work together, so this is the right division of labor.”

“Hey. Even if it’s slow, it’s better than not earning anything at all?! If you’ve got nothing to do, go cheer them on.”

“Who said they’re never coming back? Come here so I can hit you.”

* * *

Maybe it was because they were first-year streamers who had already done 3D lives. Even though I called them on short notice, Maru and Dora cleanly performed three full songs. The in-game mic made it hard to capture the emotion perfectly, but everyone who had spent two exhausting days mining, hunting, and farming got a nice ten-minute refresh.

After watching Maru and Dora mingle with the crowd for a while, I planned to take them back underground. The remaining fifteen thousand viewers were waiting for me to start hunting.

The 64 Cubics experts in chat were going wild saying you could earn three times as much in a dungeon. Even if we didn’t go immediately, I thought we should at least show some intention. It would be good if I could earn a lot too. It would make supporting the members easier. The problem was that I had zero dungeon experience, and gathering a full set of obsidian gear took an entire day. If I went in half-prepared, my earning efficiency might actually drop. Since I wanted to invite all the members before going, I was thinking of postponing the decision.

So I waited until Maru finished talking with the crowd… when suddenly someone shoved me with their body and dragged me to the side.

“Wait, Jia-nim. Over here. Let’s talk business.”

It was MoovGun. Business? Out of nowhere? I had no reason to do business with him even if I did it with others. People might have forgotten, but back when I was busy with company work, this thieving bastard frequently co-streamed with the boss and earned her viewers’ trust. As the vicious turret protecting the boss, I still kept a wary eye on MoovGun even now.

I wanted to run, but as expected of a former pro gamer, his physicality was outstanding and his body-blocking was artistic. Every time I tried to slip away he’d cut me off, poke me, and push me into the corner. By the time I came to my senses, I was wedged between a tree and a building with no escape.

“What business?”

“…?”

I wondered what nonsense he was about to spout, but it really was a business discussion. Not outside the server—inside Wicker Town itself.

“And?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll be any good at hunting in dungeons yet.”

MoovGun’s answer was almost spot-on. Whether it was because he respected my experience or because he was a cuckoo, he kept talking like he was giving a career orientation.

This was genuinely tempting. In other words, since I could earn that much, his proposal was to take a commission instead of an entrance fee. Assuming I really could earn three times as much, calculations showed I could give him up to 33% as commission and still come out ahead with the average hidden-class multiplier of double. But since MoovGun knew the server system better than I did, I couldn’t risk signing an unfair contract after being deceived… so I decided to test the waters.

“How about 10%?”

MoovGun whistled.

“Ah, I see. Have a good day. I’ll go back to mining.”

“What?”

“Have a good day.”

“If you throw out another nonsense number I’m going to treat you like a stranger on this server.”

MoovGun pretended to agonize over it, then gave me a new number.

“That’s what I said first. Why didn’t you accept it coolly earlier?”

“Your greed is really something else.”

The fact that he accepted 10% meant I really could earn a lot. Still, going to get obsidian gear was incredibly annoying. To reach the obsidian tech after diamond, you had to open a dimensional gate to the Red World, swim through lava, and mine for obsidian that appeared at a low rate. Even by Maru’s standards it took eight hours, so for me it would probably take around six. I had experienced up to diamond, but the Red World was new to me too.

However, I could make one proposal to MoovGun here. Unlike my pale blue gear, his was deep purple—obsidian-tier equipment. It meant he had already gone to the Red World and finished his own setup.

“MoovGun-nim, could you make me a full set of obsidian by tomorrow?”

“If you make it for me, I’ll raise your commission to 15%.”

“Ho.”

MoovGun laughed pleasantly and made a counter-proposal.

The boss had said that in business partnerships it was fine to take a small loss when receiving help in an area you weren’t familiar with. The structure was already profitable for me the moment I refused 33%. On top of that, if he would handle a task that would take me at least half a day, there was no reason to refuse. Most of all, the chat reactions were entirely positive.

I nodded and said, “Call. If you prepare the full set, I’ll start dungeon hunting tomorrow.”

* * *