Why Is This Your Broadcast?
Why is this your broadcast? BK Entertainment Idol Division CEO Kim Young-ho wore an extremely dissatisfied expression as he walked down the company hallway. He looked paranoid, like a drug addict. But there was a reason he couldn't help but act this way.
"Eunha Seong. I heard she debuted as a VTuber?"
"Fuck... that ungrateful loser's a real bitch."
To him, Eunha Seong was his Achilles' heel. A nobody from some third-rate local university with no money or connections—an AP peon. He'd only climbed to his current position thanks to her talent.
He knew he wasn't a saint. But he thought at least she had some shame. Yet...
When Zenith started losing ground in the legal battle, she betrayed him and sided with the company. It was unavoidable. No matter how clear the evidence, Zenith's defeat was a foregone conclusion. Even if they won on appeal, the company would flip it in a higher court somehow. Criminal retrial rates in the third instance were a measly 5%—meaningless against a mega-corp's capital.
That was the power of giants, of capital. An ant like him couldn't even dream of challenging it.
"...Yeah. It was unavoidable."
Muttering that obvious self-justification, CEO Kim Young-ho stomped forward with bulging eyes.
[New Media Division]
"......"
A crumbling, dead-end department. No place for someone of his rank.
Normally, I'd abuse my authority to handle this...
This wasn't showbiz—it was the totally unrelated internet streaming world. BK Ent's CEO Giwoo Park was a stickler for rules. No way he'd waste resources on something irrelevant and unprofitable. He'd probably just let Eunha be. But Kim Young-ho had no intention of watching that wench succeed.
It started from pure inferiority complex, but that didn't matter. As mentioned, he wasn't exactly clean.
Thud, thud.
He headed to the New Media Division basement. Soon, he flung open the door to the most remote room underground and spoke to the girl huddled on the bed.
"Come out. You have work to do."
The blonde girl looked up. Her eyes were blue.
* * *
Money doesn't guarantee absolute happiness. But happy people usually have a lot of it.
A capitalist cliché. But in this day and age, it was hard to deny. In 21st-century Korea, happiness and misery were separated by a single sheet of paper—the color of that paper and the number of zeros on it.
In that sense, Latte couldn't exactly call herself happy right now.
Vroooom—
The engine roar echoed through the underground parking lot. Hard to believe it came from just one car.
Vrooooom—
The red Ferrari screamed. Ferraris were insanely powerful—the kings of cars. They beat Porsches and Lambos. Anyway, it was howling.
Latte bolted.
"Argh, damn it, let's run!"
"Where do you think you're going, sis?"
Of course, she couldn't really escape. She got nabbed right away by the girl stepping out of the Ferrari.
Black hair shining like silk, features that sucked you in. A modest but assertive swell on her chest. Dressed casually in a hoodie and cap.
But idols were idols, huh? Even without makeup, her raw visuals hit like a truck.
Vrooom—
But Latte had no time to admire Eunha's looks. The V12 engine was revving right in her face.
Latte muttered in horror.
"Crazy... a real Ferrari... a Ferrari in my building's garage..."
That one car probably cost as much as her whole place's jeonse deposit. Sure, as a million-sub NewTuber, she could swing it if she emptied her savings... but still.
"Why are you standing there gawking? First time seeing a car?"
"...This ain't just any car, you maniac!!"
Eunha calling it casually "a car" was beside the point. And that scratch on the door... How rough did she drive?
Latte's trembling hands gripped the door handle as she croaked at Eunha.
"C-can... can I presume to let my lowly butt touch the leather seats of this... car sir?"
"...Car sir?"
"It feels more expensive than me..."
"Quit bullshitting and get in already."
"But..."
"Keep it up and I'll leave without you?"
At Latte's nonstop fawning, Eunha pulled the classic "sis lives here."
Finally, Latte shut up and meekly climbed in.
Vrooom—
"This thing's my... little sis?"
At this point, maybe she should be the little sis. If their ages matched, she'd happily play dongsaeng and mooch off her...
"Then you be the dongsaeng, sis. Use polite speech too."
"Eunha unnie~."
"...Ew, what the hell."
"You told me to."
Latte felt a bit down.
* * *
Invitation streams. The rice bowl of the streaming world.
Exactly what it sounds: inviting someone else to collab on stream.
But for million-sub VTuber "Latte," her invites had a unique twist.
"By the way, unnie."
"Yeah?"
"It's an invitation stream, so why are you coming to my place?"
Normally, the invitee visits the inviter's home, right? Common sense didn't apply here.
Latte was a solo million-sub NewTuber monster...
"'Cause... it's fun?"
People like that always had a screw loose somewhere.
"Invitation template? Copy-paste snoozefest. Pretentious as hell."
"No..."
"But what if you raid the guest's house instead?"
Simple reverse psychology. If invites suck, make people get "invited" instead. Don't call guests—crash their place. A batshit idea.
The problem? It came from million-sub Latte, who could actually pull it off.
"That's how my 'Reverse Invitation' content was born. Solid views on NewTube—my golden goose."
Latte boasted proudly.
I eyed her suspiciously.
"...VTubers raiding people's homes? That cool?"
"Why not? I already doxxed my face back in streaming days."
"......"
Fair enough. I'd milked my own Red Pill for character too.
Anyway, meeting Latte unnie in person was a rare treat. We'd both been swamped—she with streams, me with debut prep. Last saw her twice during setup, months ago.
Impression? Squish~!
"......"
The massive twin fat orbs jiggling on her chest. Freakish H-cups looming before me.
Mine's D—not small, but...
Nothing compared to those national bio-weapons. I'd gaslit my artist into G-cups for Yume. Hers were a full cup bigger...
...Tch.
Disgustingly huge. Tempted to smack 'em. But she'd flip out, so I restrained myself and looked away.
"...You just thought something super rude, didn't you?"
"No no, not at all."
"Liar... I sense pervy vibes."
"......"
Ding—!
After enduring her suspicious glare, how long staring at the elevator mirror?
[48F]
/Doors opening./
The speaker chimed as the elevator arrived. Opening the front door revealed a massive duplex space.
Latte gawked like a country bumpkin in Seoul.
"W-wowww..."
"Why react like that? You've been here before."
This was her fourth time. Idol days once, setup twice. Was she playing me on purpose? From the car onward... Kyoto-style mind games?
I grumbled curtly.
"You could afford this if you saved up, unnie. Right?"
"No... even so, a penthouse in central Seoul? My place is jeonse..."
"This from a million-sub NewTuber...?"
If it were me, I'd buy in Gangnam, get licensed, cruise a sports car. Vlog that for a month's content.
But no greed? Latte fled to the soundproof booth like I was the plague.
"Uh, anyway, streaming gear? Not broken it?"
"...What do you take me for?"
"Hmm... cam-blind noob who Red Pilled herself?"
"......"
Facts hurt. I pivoted.
"Let's start streaming."
"Changing subject."
"Viewers are waiting."
"Waiting for what? Not even 5 PM."
We'd left early; time to kill. But delays meant more nagging from this soon-30 ajumma. Pass.
I pointed between us.
"Me, homeowner. You, guest."
Got it? No backtalk.
She shot back instantly.
"Why am I the guest? You got raided."
"...Headache."
Unexpected. But she pressed on.
"You're the one raided."
Suddenly, I worried about this collab.
Stream... gonna be okay?
* * *
Spoiler: It wasn't.
Why is this your broadcast lmaoooo
"......"
[● 16,617 viewers]
Three thousand viewers flooded in right at start. Latte's usual peaks at 5k, so collab drew a crowd.
But they were all trolling hard.
No reaction here??? Aww... service sucks...
"......"
No reaction fr? Getting salty now...
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Flop wet bastard
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They'd straight-up hijacked my stream. Sure, content's content, but business etiquette? Crashing someone's broadcast for trolls? And it's reverse invite—Latte's the "guest." I'm the host, so why's it yours?
This is trespassing, business interference—felony territory.
Do they have no souls...?
Okay, scripted WWE for content. But 10k firepower made it feel like UFC for the reactor.
"Yume, why no stream?"
Amid the flaming chat sweat, a welcome voice. Pizza in hand—our dinner delivery. Pizza to a blaze? Meme vibes.
I played it cool.
"Nothing... happened..."
"Really? Why's the stream on fire?"
"Has my stream ever not been?"
"...Fair."
"Anyway, food's here. Let's eat and stream."
Post-pizza, standard guest template: intro, icebreaker, gaslight viewers. Guest drops banger, chat explodes.
Except...
"Latte-nim, please introduce yourself."
The guest was Latte unnie. Problematic.
"Hi. I'm Latte, Virtual Streamer and NewTuber on Jijijik. As you know, real name Yeon Hana... Yeah. Streaming 7? 8 years? Around there."
Nice to meet you...
"...Question I've had: this meaningful?"
"Duh. Even celebs intro on first meets."
"Still..."
It's your content. Swallowed it, shook head.
She continued.
"So, what's today's content?"
"? Huh?"
"C'mon, teacher. You raided, so you prepped something, right? Show us."
"......"
"No way... you invited a guest with zero content prep?"
"......"
"Called a corp guest to leech, slacked off, no prep... for real? Oh god... No conscience at all? Streamer Yume-nim?"
Latte went full no-breath beatdown mode, dogpiling me. Million-sub my ass... Korea's creator future scared me.
But not serious—she tucked tail when I glared.
"...Unnie."
"Sorry."
"S-so, content time?"
I softened my eyes; she set up her prepped segment quick.
Opening hiccups aside, main content flew up fast.
[00:00:00]
A clock popped on screen. She pasted some code et voila.
"......"
But knowing viewers weren't normal. What? Looks like a plain clock...
No clue.
Saw her NewTubes for VTuber prep, but not all 7 years' worth. Plus live-only stuff.
I eyed the clock suspiciously, theorizing.
Latte smirked meaningfully.
"Ready. Start whenever."
"What's it do?"
"Nothing special... just a clock."
"I can see that..."
I know it's a clock. But what kind?
Explanation:
"Simple rules. No ending stream till time's up."
"...Pardon?"
"To extend... "
Add 10 min plz.
"Pay up."
Latte finished.
I turned slowly to the clock.
[00:09:58]
[00:09:57]
[00:09:56]
The paused time resumed ticking.