Am I That Strange?

The air was thick with tension across the talk cord. Still, the chat window in the custom game lobby where all ten players had gathered refused to stay quiet. That was because the in-game leader for the Construction-Makgeolli team was WatermelonHotpot, the youngest member of the Makgeolli Crew. Keugaemang loved teasing his juniors so much that even in the finals neither of them had dialed back their banter.

Two people whose combined subscriber counts exceeded five million were going at it, so everyone else could only watch and wait for an opening. Right in the middle of that whale-sized wordplay, one person fearlessly shoved her face into the conversation. Me.

If we were strictly counting subscribers, my official Parallel channel with 175,000 was near the bottom among the ten players here. Slightly higher than the rookie Serena, I suppose. To the others it must have looked pretty strange. Yet the Construction-Makgeolli team members never let their guard down. They knew that this harmless-looking tiny squirt was the most dangerous person in the lobby.

Ever since the flare gun incident (Awakened Mazia), my win rate against Team Yeonggun was a clean 0%. It used to be 100% before the situation completely flipped. The predator and prey had swapped places entirely. In terms of round score the ratio was about 7:10, fairly even, but my crack plays at every decisive moment caused the games to explode more often than not.

Still, having beaten the tournament favorite Pandral team, Construction-Makgeolli had plenty of confidence. The problem was stamina; that couldn't be ignored. Yesterday they had gone to three overtimes, and the final set alone had nearly fifty rounds. Everyone was running on fumes. The pressure of having to prepare for the grand finals meant they had barely slept.

WatermelonHotpot's cheerful chatter with Keugaemang was his way of trying to lighten the mood. He knew the team was so exhausted that even joking felt difficult. Even so, shouldn't they at least go out in a blaze of glory? It was the finals, after all.

The moment the game-ready signal dropped, WatermelonHotpot ended his conversation with Keugaemang and started speaking loudly in the team voice chat. Director Construction-Makgeolli figured he had no more advice to give, so he simply listened quietly.

“First off, don't focus too much on Mazia. Let's just play our usual game. Their team isn't all that aggressive if Mazia's crack plays aren't on the table, right? And from what I saw against Pandral, if someone can even dedicate themselves to marking her, the defense holds up pretty well.”

The one who had shut me down one-on-one on Pandral was Taro. She read my psychology with eerie accuracy and threw flashes. Because she blinded me at a pretty high success rate, even I had been forced to hesitate a little.

“I agree. Still, we have to try to stop her. There’s no other choice. If we can’t stop her, we lose.”

Even though he spoke energetically, the heavy atmosphere showed no sign of lifting. Well, what could you do? WatermelonHotpot, who had been playing the role of the Makgeolli Crew’s youngest, had no choice but to pull out some slapstick here too. Soon his suppressed dialect exploded out.

“Hey, hey, kids. Don’t get so down. Everything will be fine. Even if we lose, I’ll buy you all a good meal. We’re losing because we’re not good enough, not because our teamwork is bad, right? So cheer up! Fighting! Let’s go!”

On the other hand, the calm and collected Team Yeonggun all burst into dry laughter at a single line from Yeonggun, who still hadn’t left the voice channel.

“Honestly, I never thought we’d make it this far.”

“But it’s not like I drafted the team well or anything. After the tournament I’ll hold a separate hearing, so anyone who wants to come roast me is welcome to…”

“I just wanted to say one thing to all of you.” After a short silence, Yeonggun continued. “Thank you. I learned a lot from this tournament. I don’t know if I’ll get to be a director again next time, but I’ll make good use of this experience and become a proper director. I might have been a bit rude, but Keugaemang, thank you for faithfully following my request to give orders.”

“Bajubi, if you’re still mad at me, you can hit me once during the after-party. You can kick my butt, punch my stomach, or even slap my cheek.”

“Serena, I’m sorry for making you go through so much trouble because of me. But it’s not over yet, so please bear with me just a little longer. Honestly, those 805 points? I don’t regret them at all. If we did the auction again I’d be willing to go up to a thousand.”

“Next, Kamik. Thank you for quietly doing your job so well. A first-tier player really is first-tier. Thanks to you staying alive and never missing kills, we saw huge benefits.”

The atmosphere felt like the finals were already over, and everyone’s secondhand embarrassment was about to explode. After all, they had suffered so much throughout the entire tournament. Until they got the round-robin first place and direct finals ticket, everyone had wondered if it was all a dream.

“Finally, Mazia. Honestly I knew nothing about you, and because of that I made the team suffer a lot. But that one time you spoke up without feeling burdened is what let us come this far. After I learned you’re a regular office worker who only streams as part of your company work, I felt genuinely sorry. It must have been really uncomfortable for you among all the full-time streamers. Thank you so much for charging in with that courage.”

But I was still angry. Whether then or now, I just wanted the tournament to end quickly. After the reins came off I had gone wild and relieved some stress, but in the end it never felt like an enjoyable event. It felt like corporate promotion work, so what could I do? I hadn’t even been able to see the CEO’s face properly because of tournament prep, so of course I was irritated.

So I shot back in a venomous tone.

Laughter erupted everywhere. Serena, who had suffered the most mental damage, laughed the loudest.

“Hey, how can you say something so hurtful!”

“…Huh, should I really try that?”

“Anyway. You’ll come to the after-party, right? All my team members saw your face at the year-end party, but the actual director—me—never got to meet you. I really want to meet you and apologize properly…”

“Anyway. See you at the after-party.”

“I’ll pray you have time. We’re doomed! Fighting!!!”

The finals match itself was actually quite even. The first set went to overtime and Team Yeonggun barely won 15:13. The second set was 9:7 with Team Yeonggun in the lead, but Construction-Makgeolli kept chasing until the end.

But.

In the end, the decisive factor was that no one could completely shut down my unpredictable aggressive plays. Taro from Pandral, who had marked me with insane flash accuracy, had been eliminated in the semifinals. The moment I gained momentum and charged, holes always appeared in the defense line.

Above all, I had already broken through Construction-Makgeolli’s defense line multiple times. The opponent was using accumulated data from a single leader, while Team Yeonggun had two heads. One of them was a self-willed tank that charged in while spraying smoke, which made it even more threatening.

Even in the final round I rained down a storm of pellets like fire, signaling the end of the match.

The official broadcast showed the players’ screens. While everyone including the director was going wild with excitement, I alone remained calm. It was the same when the casters entered the talk cord for the winner interview.

The casters knew that Serena, who had commanded the team while I went wild, had contributed greatly. But who had produced the most visible results? It was me, charging across the battlefield with smoke while wielding the Dragon-B that produced such fiery shooting effects it was called “breathing fire.”

After a simple congratulations, the casters turned to me. I had already closed my eyes and entered a meditative state.

I answered calmly.

“First, Serena’s shot-calling came alive, Kamik’s personal survival rate went up a lot, and Bajubi really did her part perfectly. Uncle Keugaemang started moving the turret positions on his own to block enemy entries. I think every team member performed amazingly.”

Anyone could see I had played the best, yet I left myself out of the praise entirely.

When the chat filled with related comments, the caster asked again.

“Sorry, I can’t agree with that. Every team member did well. The director may have failed the auction, but he still did everything he was supposed to do.”

But the caster wouldn’t back down. After all, their main job was to create stars of the tournament. In last year’s first tournament, that role had belonged to Taro. With perfect flashes that blinded hidden enemies when attacking and stole the vision of advancing enemies when defending, cutting off the flow.

Throughout the tournament the opposing players had kept calling me the “Smoke Murderer.” I had completely overturned the existing belief that smoke should be used strategically. In the end, I had proven that in a non-pro tournament, a single person’s shining play that stabs out like an awl could lead the game to victory.

But I remained calm. It was a little embarrassing, but the shamelessness I had trained with the members and brought back from the year-end party was shining through.

“It seems we won because Taro wasn’t there.”

“But I really do think so.”

It was unfortunate, but what could they do? The player wanted to stay humble. Besides, even though I looked like a streamer, I was still an office worker. In the end the casters yielded and prepared to wrap up the interview.

I answered indifferently.

“During scrims I thought we’d be eliminated early and I could focus on work. I didn’t expect to spend two more days on the tournament. I need to finish quickly and get back to the office.”

“I stream from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the office. Right now I’m in the company broadcast room too.”

Both casters looked shocked. Both of them had as much corporate experience as I did, so they understood exactly how heavy my words were.

“Yes.”

I had bookmarked the guy who recently joined Parallel. He comes by occasionally to post. Looking at the post he put up yesterday, he apparently kept coming to the office the entire time he was preparing for the tournament lololol.

Even after the Mat-at Daehoe and the big Momo competition, more tournaments and large-scale servers were scheduled. But one person’s ability and time were always limited. If an environment where she could focus solely on streaming wasn’t created, she could disappear into work at any moment.

No matter how much the official channel’s weight kept growing, no matter how much the average viewership of the control room streams increased, there was still a limit to putting streaming before the original work I was supposed to do.

Of course, the trigger that changed my attitude toward streaming came surprisingly soon. It was two days after the finals, on the day of Team Yeonggun’s after-party, while Serena and I were on our way to take the subway.

“Today was so much fun. Bajubi may not talk much, but she plays really well. It was surprising.”

“It was only possible because Serena translated almost everything for her… But how could you even hear that tiny voice? The room was loud and not soundproofed.”

“It felt like guessing from the shape of her mouth? She might get it wrong, but then she would gently tug my sleeve. It was cute.”

I had thought she was a desperate junior, but surprisingly Bajubi had purely enjoyed the delicious food and socializing with people before leaving. She said she was happy to have made good memories and new friends. Kamik and Serena kept trying to get closer in a friendly way, but she kept running away saying their tiers didn’t match. It was a little sad to watch… but I understood that feeling.

When my boss Cheon Do-hee was still a junior, she used to get nervous whenever big streamers acted friendly toward her. There had been one guy who started with nothing and ended with a punch.

Serena giggled and said, “That’s why I always find you fascinating, Jia. You and Bajubi seem similar, yet you don’t. From the beginning you only showed us someone who already seemed used to broadcasting.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. Honestly, if you introduced yourself as ‘I’m a VTuber,’ I would believe you.”

Maybe it was because the food had been good and I was in a cheerful mood, but I suddenly felt like teasing Serena.

“Then what if I became your junior?”

“Hehe. That would be fun… Huh?”

Serena jumped in shock and asked again.

“Wait. Uh. What? For real?”

“Say something. Anything.”

After licking her lips for a while, Serena finally spoke.

“Tsk… It’s a lie, right? I’m not stupid, you know?”

“What if it’s not a lie?”

Serena bent at the waist and stared at me with narrow eyes. Then she said,

“If you debut, Jia, I’ll go in front of Parallel headquarters and shout ‘I love Parallel!’”

Maybe it was because there were so many people around me trying to gaslight me even while telling me to stay humble, but I reflexively answered.

“People say it would be stranger if I didn’t debut.”

“If you were going to debut because of opinions like that, you would have done it at Parallel long ago. You’ve already had plenty of chances. The fact that you still haven’t means you have your own reasons for not wanting to. I’m honestly against debuting just because of other people’s opinions.”

The reason for not debuting. Serena was the first person since the CEO to pinpoint that and speak about it directly.

She really is a good person.

But as I listened, it also sounded like something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠someone who had been forced into an unwanted debut would say. The way she had worked like a young head of household on the Wicker server, and the way she tried to secure practical benefits even as a healing-type VTuber. The word “personal circumstances” naturally came to mind, so I asked.

“This might be rude, so don’t answer if you don’t want to. Serena, did you not want to debut?”

Serena let out a small laugh.

“Yes. I originally tried to debut as an idol under Birdess.”