Chapter 271
Chapter 271
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 271
Chapter Title: Episode 88. Those Who Meet Shall Part (6)
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"Whoa, viewers have already broken five million."
"Live streaming rankings hit number one too."
"Number one? Wow! Seriously...! Thank you so much!"
This was a live broadcast prepared by the Mage Tower Agency (MTA) for the transcendents. A Q&A, fan meet, or whatever—it was a ploy to flaunt their skyrocketing popularity to the world.
It wasn't just personal footage. MTA had shelled out cash for a professional external crew instead of using White's name. Top-notch videographers.
Since it was live anyway, they'd roped in some big-name superhuman media outlets too. Twenty-five people total, all for five lives.
Naturally, the shoot moved to a quiet outdoor spot, with even more cameras rolling.
Talk about nerve-wracking. But after pre-loading on every mental booster imaginable, Team White's superhumans flashed bright smiles for the cameras.
"What could you possibly want to see from us to come all this way..."
"Haha, don't you have to put on a show as team leader?"
"Hmm, then how about a little demo of what everyone's most curious about—my specialty, 'magic swordsmanship'?"
"Not now, though. Since so many are dying to see it, save it for the end of the live! You'll get your confirmation then."
Laughter erupted.
"Kid knows how to work a broadcast."
"All she does is that stuff~~"
On screen, the team was all buddy-buddy.
Then the MTA PD suddenly jumped, gesturing wildly at the crew before stepping away to make a call.
What the hell? Something happen nearby?
That's what the team wondered.
Weird messages started slipping into the flood of paid chats.
A few team members eyed them curiously but decided to ignore. Chats were blowing up anyway—just a vocal minority.
Then shit hit the fan. The PD bolted back, signaling full stop.
"Huh? Wait, hold on?"
"Please wait just a moment."
One team member glared at the PD like, what the hell? But the PD, face drained of color, kept waving him off. Stop.
"Looks like a shooting issue. Please, just wait!"
The live cut abruptly.
The external crew was baffled. The team, even more so. Finally, White couldn't hold back and cornered the PD.
"What the hell is this? PD."
"Wh-White! Over here a sec...!!"
"What is it?! Why?!"
White bit back her irritation—the PD's face was pure terror.
They stepped away from the site, and soon White wore the same mask.
"Paper airplane!"
"What...?"
"Paper airplane! That 'search me plzzz' on screen? It's an SNS handle! They're posting about Team White scamming the industry, fake clears...! And it's convincing!"
The PD practically screamed in shock.
White kept her cool, then flipped the script with outrage.
"You believe that crap? Hand it over!"
She snatched the PD's watch device and scrolled the posts.
A summary chart of Team White's 'clear records' and some official-looking doc in photo form. Plus every public schedule they'd had, pieced together.
It looked off.
Schedules crammed too tight.
Even sleepless, the unreported clears seemed short on time.
"What the hell is this document?"
"We're digging around, but so far..."
White and PD didn't know—it was a Federation template. No identifiers in the pic.
The PD muttered, 'Of course I know you wouldn't, White...! But reactions are...' Thousands of comments in minutes.
No proof it was 'official' from the pic.
PD near tears: "This is fake, right?"
"You call that a question?"
"R-right...?"
"You halt a top-ranked live over one photo? How you gonna handle this?"
White felt blood drain but played tough.
Her own words barely registered—mind blank.
82 was spot-on...
The exposé was slick.
82 precise—insider knowledge only.
But Federation wouldn't threaten like this. Not their style.
White couldn't fathom a 'Grade 5 agent' with Kaliovan-level access hating her guts. Chaos doubled.
Then her watch buzzed. Call.
She freaked at the number.
[+00 0000000000]
Blocked country and digits.
Instinct screamed: the mastermind.
Vision blurred. Direct call from the bastard.
Like a gaping wound, blood pouring out.
"C-can we restart the broadcast?"
"No! Wait! Fuck, quit whining!"
She cursed the PD without thinking, then ducked to answer.
"Who the hell are you."
Heart pounding wild.
No reply. She yelled.
"Hey! Who is this? What the fuck?!"
― White McDonald. Voice shaking?
High-pitched modulator. Basic voice chat filter—for pranks.
"What the fuck?"
― Been a while since shit hit. Still clueless? What MTA raising?
Thud. Lead weight in chest.
Reality sharpened, fingers numb.
― Wake up. Everything you built's crumbling.
"Wh-who... why me..."
― Warned you. Should've listened when I gave the chance.
Then it hit—recent paid message, no spaces.
Thought psycho spam...
― Think movie voice-phish scammer. Got proof galore. Try anything funny?
"Y-you think you'll get away...?"
― Worry 'bout you.
"......"
She knew her life's on a razor's edge.
Worried one greedy call would end it.
White trembled.
― Now you'll do what I say. Obey, exposés stop. For real. Just say 'yes' from here. Got it?
"Wh-what're you gonna ask..."
Silence.
Why? 'Cause no 'yes'?
As terror gripped her, PD yelled.
"H-hey! White! Call important!?"
"What?!"
"Exposer updated SNS...!"
White checked her watch.
Another vague photo.
Chats speculating on "Yes?"
Fake clear confirmed... White ground teeth.
"Y-yes... I'll say yes... p-please, tell me..."
Exposer replied.
― Got in-ear? Restart broadcast.
"Yes? Uh... yes."
Why? What next? Heart slamming, dizzy.
Shock buckled her legs. She crumpled.
― Not going?
"G-going..."
She shuffled back anyway. PD asked what happened; White, pale, shook head.
"Restart broadcast."
"Huh?"
"I-it's fine. Restart."
Sat down. Crew, press, team hushed instantly.
"Problem fixed?"
"Shut your trap. Before I rip you..."
"Uh...?"
Team paled. But White's mutter didn't hit mic.
That's their dynamic. White's one-woman show. Harmony fake—mutual benefit truce.
PD signaled OK to AD and cams.
Live resumed. Team awkwardly apologized to new viewers—internal glitch.
In-ear: distorted voice.
― Act normal.
Terror indescribable.
Live. He's watching.
"......Yes."
Off-mic only.
Meanwhile, Team Lair's mood soared.
In their rented small office, huge display on the live, watches on exposer's SNS.
"Bastard's totally spooked...!"
"Hahaha! See the team freak?"
Hated foe crumbling live—blockage cleared.
After Yoo Ji-tae assured no permadeath, even Gaeul laughed easy.
Viewers neared three million again.
"Wanna mess more before nuking channel?"
Yoo Ji-tae asked.
Mess how? Eyes sparkled, but kids too scared to speak.
Gaeul, cradling chick and gauging mood, broke ice playfully.
"Tell her to pick her nose...!"
Yeoreum unni's dirty tricks.
Exactly five seconds later.
White started picking her nose.
On live.
In front of three million viewers.