I was actually planning to do a live stream, but I don't have a computer.
A time when streetlamps did not yet bathe the night in brilliant glow, and saying "if you just sit still, you won't feel hot" was not yet considered absolute nonsense. That was the era into which I was reincarnated.
And as a girl, no less.
"Donga. I gotta pee. Come to the bathroom with me."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."
Escorting the whining child straight to the restroom, I had to climb onto a wooden stool just to see my reflection in the mirror; I was still that small.
A tiny face with dainty, compact features, and plump, squishy cheeks flushed with a soft pink hue.
I reached up with stubby fingers to prod both sides. Pinching them yielded a pillowy, tender sensation.
'Damn, what a pretty little thing.'
Staring into the glass, the face was honestly so stunning that I could hardly believe it was mine.
'Life really works in mysterious ways.'
Waking up as a little child had felt terribly awkward at first, but that feeling had long since evaporated. I had spent enough time living as a little girl to adjust to the change in gender several times over.
And while it had been jarring in the beginning, it wasn't all bad. In fact, in this body, I felt like I could do what I truly wanted far better than before.
What was that dream? Well, nothing particularly grand. But no matter how much I turned it over in my mind, there was really only one answer.
I was going to become a live streamer.
After all, that had been my goal from the start.
'A TS Girl and live streaming are practically joined at the hip.'
Sure, there were plenty of other paths, but that was usually how the story went.
When crowds rush down a certain road, there's always a good reason for it.
'People who undergo a gender transformation have an unfair advantage in streaming.'
First off, visuals.
As long as I didn't end up with any hideous scars, I figured I'd grow into quite the looker.
Next, personality.
Having lived as an adult man, I understood men inside and out. Daily routines, niche tastes, thought processes—we shared endless common ground.
'I mean, I'd rather scarf down pork cutlet, spicy stir-fried pork, or a piping-hot bowl of gukbap over mala soup, tteokbokki, or chicken feet any day.'
Gaming skill didn't even matter that much. The entire point was simply having fun. Skill-based broadcasts were great, sure, but that demanded raw, innate talent.
By now, everyone probably catches my drift.
In a nutshell, a TS girl is a gorgeous girl who shares your exact tastes and communicates on your wavelength.
That formula is guaranteed to succeed across any era.
'Hell, even I'd go crazy for someone like that.'
Wanting to hang out and have fun with people meant my personal preference aligned seamlessly with my natural edge.
Not that I was taking it lightly.
I planned to practice relentlessly and debut as early as possible so I could stay active in the scene for years. Growing up as a live-streaming prodigy sounded pretty neat, too.
There was just one minor snag...
"Donga! I'm all done. Stop staring at the mirror and let's goooo."
This was an orphanage, and I was an orphan. One without a single computer to her name.
Back in the day, I never would have imagined it, but you can actually play games without a computer.
You just run them in your head.
Ever since being born anew, whenever I wasn't succumbing to the sweet pull of sleep, I was left spacing out—and there was no better content to pass the time than imaginary gaming.
'The Light shall burn you!'
Last night, I had played a card game all by myself. I stole every single card from my opponent's deck and put on an absolute masterclass.
The match had been so thrilling that the lingering adrenaline kept me awake, and I ended up falling asleep far too late. Naturally, waking up was a struggle.
'Ugh, this blinding glare...'
The sunlight poured down so aggressively that I could feel the heat searing against my eyelids before I even opened them.
"Urrrgh... absolute misery."
Why on earth was the sun greeting me like this? I was positive I had painstakingly crafted and hung blackout curtains by hand. Did Madame Hwang Dongbun rip them down, lecturing me to stop acting like a creature of the dark...?
Just as I was about to slip back into slumber, sticky little fingers coated in that quintessential kid blend of sweat and drool started poking and squishing my cheeks.
"Hehe... Donga is so pretty."
Cracking an eye open, I saw a little brat jabbing at my face.
"Yisol, there's no need to state the painfully obvious."
"I'm saying it because it's true!"
"Hey, you little rascal. Stop touching me. I need my beauty sleep to grow."
"Don't wanna!"
"Oho, dare a mere peasant talk back when a Sacred Bone speaks?"
"Sacred Bone?"
Guess I needed to re-educate her before she blossomed into a full-blown insurgent.
Those like me, Hwang Donga, who were abandoned without a name and took on the surname of our director, Madame Hwang Dongbun, belonged to the Sacred Bone.
The rest, who arrived with their birth names intact but had no living parents, were True Bone orphans.
Our Hwangdong Orphanage was strictly governed by my satirical Bone Rank System.
"I don't care about that! Just stay still like when you were sleeping. Stop frowning!"
Choi Yisol was clutching a tube of lipstick. Her own face was already covered in colorful scribbles, and her little hands were caked in cosmetics under the guise of powdering mine.
Catching sight of those filthy hands instantly brought yesterday's bathroom trip to mind.
"Did you wash your hands after going to the bathroom yesterday?"
Come to think of it, I hadn't heard the faucet running. Or had I missed it because I was too busy admiring my reflection?
Yisol stared directly into my eyes and declared with utmost conviction:
"Nope!"
"Didn't I tell you to always wash your hands before touching anything?"
"Fine, fine. I'll go wash up as soon as I finish your makeup! Eunwoo, show Donga her face!"
Eunwoo, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, brought over a hand mirror and held it up. Though Yisol hadn't applied any lipstick yet, the blush on my cheeks was surprisingly delicate and well-blended.
"What do you think, pretty? I made sure you look fit to play a princess!"
'This kid could genuinely make a living doing makeup.'
She wasn't even entering elementary school until next year, so why were her hands already so deft?
Judging by the way she styled my face while I was dead asleep, she'd probably do an incredible job working on celebrities at some high-end salon in Cheongdam-dong one day.
And it was all thanks to me.
I changed her diapers, spoon-fed her, walked her to the toilet, and when I noticed a spark of talent, I generously offered up my own skin as a canvas without caring how much cosmetic slop she smeared on it.
"You have to do my makeup often in the future too, got it?"
"Oong!"
When broadcasting, an internet content creator—a streamer—always keeps a webcam on in the corner of the screen. Whether playing a game or watching a video, seeing the streamer's raw reactions is half the entertainment for viewers.
Dramatic reactions were crucial, but who was reacting mattered even more.
Between two people getting startled, a beautiful girl getting startled generated ten times the buzz.
To look good on camera, streamers meticulously obsessed over studio lighting, camera angles, resolution, and digital filters, but all of that was secondary; the raw canvas was the core foundation.
Because of that, the importance of makeup could only increase, never decline.
Especially when considering future offline conventions and gaming tournaments.
Having a trusty friend who could doll me up into a glowing vision was an invaluable asset.
'Man, I raised this kid well.'
"Now go practice on the other kids too."
"But... Donga is the prettiest! Doing makeup on the others isn't fun like it is with you."
"Try it anyway."
She needed to handle different facial structures. If she learned how to style men, women, the elderly, and children alike, beauty salons everywhere would fight tooth and nail to hire her.
"I'll try bit by bit! But first, let me finish yours! You said you're going to an audition today!"
"That's right. An open commercial audition, wasn't it? Are you really going? To buy a computer?"
Eunwoo chimed in, backing up Yisol's words.
"Well, well. Look at that. I was trying to keep it under wraps until I passed, but the rumor's already spread."
Securing permission from our Madame had taken quite the verbal brawl, but the moment I heard they were holding an open call for child actors in a TV commercial, I had jumped at the opportunity.
"No, we eavesdropped on you talking with the Director. Well, technically Eunwoo heard it."
"Yeah. I wasn't trying to listen, but it just reached my ears."
We were whispering so softly—how on earth did she pick that up?
"That's why I did your makeup today, so you'd do great! Good luck!"
Yisol whispered encouragingly. To think she had prepared my face just so I'd ace the audition.
Suddenly, my nose prickled. Was this the emotional payoff of raising children?
Scrounging coins from underneath vending machines and drainage grates to buy her makeup kits had really paid off.
It had been quite a while since I bought those, yet she was managing to stretch them out remarkably well...
"...Wait a minute. Where did you get that lipstick? I never bought you that."
At my question, the two girls exchanged glances before answering as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"I needed it, so Eunwoo and I swiped it from the Director. Sneaking into her room was super fun. Hehe, right?"
"Yeah."
"Hold on... of all people, you stole from the Madame?"
"Yep! Because today is a special day!"
They shouldn't be pulling stunts like that at their age...
"Our Madame's parenting has gone straight down the drain."
This was precisely what happened when imperial law collapsed.
I told her we needed to enforce the Bone Rank System strictly from day one. I'd have to petition her again later. Better to mend the barn after losing the cattle than let the whole ranch crumble.
Eunwoo, who had been holding up the mirror, suddenly flinched.
"The Director's coming. We gotta bounce."
Darting her eyes around, Eunwoo wriggled straight out through the window. Judging by her smooth agility, this was far from her first rodeo. She then reached back in to hoist the grunting Yisol outside after her.
"Aren't you coming?"
"I told you, I have to go with the Madame today. Hiding is completely pointless for me."
At my deadpan reply, Eunwoo stammered. Yisol stuck out her tongue, making a cheeky face practically begging for a knuckle-knock.
"I-it's a special day, so she'll forgive you!"
"Oh, right! I totally forgot. Sorry! Since I did your makeup, make sure to bring us back some morning pastries later!"
Crafty little brats. At least they knew they were in trouble, displaying an uncanny instinct for self-preservation.
The kids vanished in a flash, and our orphanage director, Madame Hwang Dongbun, appeared in the doorway.
With her black eyepatch, she looked intimidating enough on an ordinary day, but right now her scowl was vicious enough to send toddlers into convulsions.
Madame Dongbun's gaze flicked back and forth between the messy cosmetics scattered across the floor and my face. She seemed to deduce right away that I hadn't made the mess myself. Not that it softened the thundercloud over her brow.
'Nothing else for it.'
Time to weaponize this cute face and defuse her wrath.
"Madame~ look at my pretty face and cheer up. Aren't I adorable?"
Madame Dongbun stared at me, completely flabbergasted.
"I've told you countless times not to call me Madame. I'm nowhere near old enough to be addressed like that."
"Once a woman passes thirty, isn't that fair game for everyone?"
Her expression twisted into something truly demonic. If I were an ordinary child who hadn't reincarnated, I would have wet my pants on the spot.
Is a woman dressed like a nun even allowed to make a face like that?
"Hehe. Just kidding, unnie."
"...It was those two, wasn't it? Where did they run off to?"
"No idea. And even if I did, how could I rat them out?"
As our beloved Madame herself preached, weren't all of us here a family, bound by ties deeper than blood?
How could one betray family? Such internal affairs ought to be settled strictly within our own ranks.
When I clamped my mouth shut, Madame Dongbun narrowed her single eye and promptly drilled her knuckle into the crown of my head.
Thunk!
"Live coverage of child abuse at an orphanage. Is Hwangdong Orphanage really safe as it is...?"
"Cut the nonsense. If you run into them, pass the message along. Discipline them yourself."
Madame Dongbun cracked her knuckles, one by one.
"Tell them there won't be a second time. Got that?"
"Understood, ma'am."
"I don't have time to hunt them down right now anyway. You know that, right? You said you had an audition today. Let's get moving."
Since I wasn't even old enough for elementary school yet, wandering around Seoul by myself was completely out of the question.
'Not to mention, I don't even have a cell phone.'
In other words, I was still at an age where I desperately required a legal guardian.
Which was why our Madame had set aside her daily duties for today to accompany me as my guardian.
"I'm counting on you, Director. I'll bring home the bacon."
After all, in my past life, I was an actor.