I Was Just Lucky, But What Happens When You Donate Ten Million Won to the Server?

It was like a myth—the story of you and me♪ In the tutorial zone, instead of the admin-produced background music, original tracks from Rapits' first and second generations alternated and played. [Sponsored by Rapits] They even blatantly flashed a notice on the exit path declaring it was sponsored by Rapits. The food items scattered across the server—Wicker ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bread—had completely transformed into Rapits bread in a single day. Thanks to that, the chat atmosphere had shifted noticeably as well.

It really felt like the best kind of promotion money could buy. Compared to me grinding away unpaid in-game (though I do get a salary, so maybe not entirely unpaid), this was like clicking once and landing an incredibly effective advertisement. From a corporate standpoint, ten million won was actually a trivial amount. Still, I didn’t feel any real sense of crisis. It wasn’t as if Rapits songs were blasting across the entire village, and their ten-million-won spend wouldn’t instantly close the gap we had opened.

Our boss, however, seemed to be thinking along slightly different lines—probably because of her position as CEO.

A fist drill ground into the top of my skull with a low kuuuuuurk. “Kiiiik.”

In matters of company finances I always stayed in the observer role. The boss and the financial director ultimately decided the direction of the business. I could offer a quiet opinion, but direct intervention was off-limits. And the boss wasn’t suggesting we outspend Rapits to crush them—she simply wanted to match the amount. Since we were all VTubers enjoying the same server, it was like agreeing to carry the same log together. If this were strictly company versus company, image considerations would make it natural… but the fans clearly saw it differently.

The moment I turned on the stream, the chat flooded with Rapits-related talk.

The instant the broadcast started I spotted people trying to open a “Gald Cup,” so I issued a warning right away.

People who crossed the line did get banned one after another, but most viewers had already moved on. The majority of the fanbase wasn’t truly angry; only a handful were trying to sow discord. In reality, the two groups got along fine on stream. Serena and I talked regularly, after all.

Serena and Maru were close friends, so the three of us often wandered the village together laughing and chatting. Maru had chosen Chef as her second job, and the food she cooked frequently came with effects like “Equipment Quality Enhancement,” making us practically inseparable.

So the next day, when the boss sponsored ten million won to the Wicker server and received appropriate rewards, I thought things would settle down nicely.

The reason we decided against playing our own group’s songs was that gacha coins held more value than bread, and we had already done one aggressive promotion plus a mini-concert. Wicker, being a veteran streamer himself, had found a reasonable compromise. Our boss had no complaints either.

But the following day, another change arrived in the village. On one side of the residential area, a giant tower built by eight Rapits members after purchasing the land had been completed. Just like a tall billboard on a Gangnam building, posters of the four second-generation members hung on all four sides. They were visible from much farther away than our posters in the square.

Still, every visitor to the village had to pass through the square. Whether it was the Rapits tower posters or our square posters, the exposure was roughly equal.

“Wait, wait.”

More than anything, I roughly understood why Rapits had suddenly gone all-in. When I checked the Pazizik gallery yesterday, posts like this were everywhere.

Roofkr might be a walking meme, but he still runs a million-sub channel. He had managed to turn the crisis into something lighthearted, yet it was possible the Rapits side felt offended. The idea that pulling a dud Parallel Coin just gave you Rapits bread… yeah, that stung. Of course neither our boss nor theirs had intended any of this. When I showed her the post, even the boss looked flustered.

Fortunately the boss decided against further investment, and the game of chicken seemed to end there. Still, I felt we should show at least a minimum of sportsmanship—that we had no ill intent. The “Parallel dud = Rapits bread” image Roofkr had created could be cleared up quickly if we took care of it ourselves. If we left it alone and the fans started fighting, I could just stay stone-faced and ban, ban, ban, but I felt bad for Seung-yeon who was monitoring chat in my place. She was doing a good job, but she was still a newbie. If both sides suddenly went into serious fight mode she would definitely panic.

So what was the solution? Simple. Use the gacha coins that had piled up from a week’s worth of donations.

Rapits bread was normally only useful for filling hunger and thirst, so once the number of residents and donors increased it had become an extremely common item. If I rolled 2,400 coins I would probably get around 12,000 loaves. Leaving them as-is would drop the value of the bread and, by extension, the brand value, so Wicker had changed it from Wicker bread to Rapits bread and added one extra effect: combine nine loaves to create a potion bearing a Rapits member’s name.

For example, Serena’s potion—well known for its healing properties—fully restored HP the moment it was consumed. It had become the most popular recovery item among dungeon hunters. The alchemy requirement to create the potions also helped preserve the relevance of the Alchemist class.

Therefore, if people chugged Serena potions while getting beaten up during hunts, they would naturally realize: Wow, Rapits bread potions are actually good? Serena potions are insanely strong for mindless grinding, aren’t they? Why was Roofkr trash-talking them?

And so, day eight of the ground war began. I started the broadcast in the square with the members’ posters as background. The moment I showed the coin count in my mailbox, the viewers lost their minds.

I pasted the gacha probability table provided by the admins on the left side of the screen. Opening ten at a time was boring, so I grouped them into batches of one hundred.

While I was preparing, the viewers were chatting about something, so I took a look.

Appearance rate 0.02%. The very last ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠item listed as “???” caught my eye. Was there actually a castle? Every time I came to the village I only looked at the ground while walking. But when I lifted my head and gazed north, I could see what looked like a castle half-buried in snow. I wasn’t sure if it was usable in that state.

Just as the viewers said, there was no way an item no one had ever pulled would suddenly come to me. Anyway, my main goal today was twelve thousand Rapits breads, so I started rolling the gacha in refreshing batches of one hundred.

I hadn’t opened many batches yet, but a 0.33% special skin had already appeared. My goal was bread, yet from this point something felt off.

And the omen soon became reality. It happened after roughly fifteen hundred coins.

While everyone was busy spamming question marks, a whisper suddenly flew in.

Wicker soon teleported in front of me and continued his explanation.

It was the massive castle the viewers had mentioned earlier. It had looked completely buried in snow, making entry impossible… but apparently that was no longer the case.

The moment Wicker spoke, the server seemed to lag slightly. Then light began flashing from the castle and the snow melted away in streams. The thick layer of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠snow vanished, revealing a black citadel. Soft lighting ran along the building’s edges, and hazy smoke drifted around it. It was unmistakably a Demon King Castle straight out of a fantasy story.

I would be the boss. It was the kind of system you’d expect from an RP server where players created entirely new characters to role-play—something like the “life server.”

Wicker promptly set down the gear with a clatter. It was full-plate armor made of jet-black metal with elegant red accents. The Demon King armor reduced incoming damage by 95%, and the magic sword fired sword energy with every swing. Even someone wearing my previous 80% damage-reduction gear would die instantly after three hits. The power level was just too high.

I had no idea why these situations kept piling up throughout the server. First a Skeleton Knight, now a Demon King? Why did these things keep falling into my lap? Couldn’t they land in the boss’s or the members’ laps instead!

Even the nickname evolved because of it. I never imagined I would hear the same nicknames I’d been called since childhood again here. Still, this was an opportunity for me.

Rather than mindlessly chugging Serena potions while hunting, showing the visiting dungeon challengers an immortal Demon King would do far more to improve the image of Rapits bread. When the people who came to challenge me fell, they would surely ask why I wouldn’t die. That was when I could repeat it over and over.

Rapits potions are truly the best. Rapits potions are truly the best.