Forbes' #1 Face-Wasting Streamer... Isn't Wasting Their Looks...?

If you judged a stream on entertainment value alone, the funniest situation of all was a Bitik on the alt and a total bomb on the main.

But I was a broadcaster and, at the same time, a gamer.

To put it without any dressing up, the gamer's soul inside me was desperately starving for a bitik on the main.

Come on—once in your life, you have to land the bitik of a lifetime! You never forget the thrill of that exact second, and that's why you keep playing. That's how you stay in love with a game for years!

And yet pulling a bitik on both the main and the alt was anything but easy, even for a gacha fossil like Marchen.

Wanting to bitik on both accounts? Please. That was a conscience that had already keeled over and died.

And the other thing Broadcaster Marchen had to say was the conscience of the age.

So I pulled while praying, with everything I had, that the alt would bomb.

It bombed.

"No—I'm telling you, bomb the alt and let the main bitik...?!"

Main and alt. Both of them.

For a split second I rewound my memory, wondering if I'd slipped and said the wrong thing while I was pulling on the main.

But no matter how I turned it over, I had spent the entire main-account session begging to be allowed a bitik.

So why grant only the wish that barely mattered—the alt bombing—and ignore the one that mattered most, the main-account bitik?

What is this? Are they messing with me?

"This has no heart in it and no fun! Give me my bitik back!"

"No matter how hard I bomb in Raider, I don't think I'll be getting nostalgic. Not while I've still got two million won of Knight Rise on my record."

As if I was about to glaze ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that game!

Back in the old days, when the rose-tinted glasses were on good and thick, maybe. Not a chance now.

"Anyway, I went and beat the gacha into the ground today. ...Except the one who got beaten into the ground wasn't the gacha. It was me!"

I let out a long, heavy sigh and escaped the gacha screen.

"I'll buy a skin with what's left."

...When you're down, you look at skins!

I finished buying and browsing, then gave a light stretch.

"All right. Shall we ease into a major announcement with a suitably moderate energy?"

How do I even start this....

I took a moment to choose my words, then opened my mouth.

"The way a hundred thousand subscribers is a symbol for a NewTuber, a million is basically a symbol too, right?"

NewTube handing you a Gold Button when you hit a million subscribers pretty much speaks for the weight that number carries. A number you can claim, without flinching, belongs to a broadcaster who made it. A number I suspect even my dad would acknowledge—a number he'd have no choice but to acknowledge.

But until not long ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ago, even looking toward a goal of a million subscribers had been too soon. So I had deliberately erased that million-subscriber goal from my head.

But.

In a blink, I had shot past the halfway mark on the road to a million. I had come far enough that even staring straight at the finish line was no longer premature.

Right. The broadcaster named Marchen was finally allowed to aim, in earnest, at becoming a million-subscriber NewTuber.

Which is why.

I had decided to unseal, one more time, the pledge I had locked away after hitting 150,000 subscribers. This was no ordinary pledge. It was a declaration that I was gunning for a million-subscriber NewTuber, for real.

Granted, I couldn't think of a fitting pledge, and the instant I heard my manager float the idea of a photobook I went that's the one!!! and locked it in—so a veeery small amount of the seriousness did leak out....

Anyway. If I say I'm serious, I'm serious.

"OneDayChairman, thank you for the 500,000 won! I'll make that photobook absolutely stunning!!"

They were welcoming the photobook far more warmly than I'd expected. I never dreamed that merely bringing it up would put 500,000 won in my hands on the spot.

...Is my photobook worth that much? I was turning the thought over when the donation message drilled straight into my ear.

"...Do I really give ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off the vibe of someone who would never shoot a photobook?"

I mean, come on. Up until I started wearing the Custom-Ordered T-Shirt, I had a perfectly respectable reputation for dressing well. I dressed so well that people even slandered me as a fashion outcast...!

"Anyway.... The first million-subscriber pledge is the photobook shoot! Oh, and there's no deadline or anything like that. The moment I hit a million subscribers, the pledge gets fulfilled. No conditions."

...They caught that immediately. Not that I'd meant to keep it a secret.

I flashed a small smile and went on, voice low.

"...Have you ever seen a candidate in a student-council election who runs on a single pledge? I, for one, never have."

Pledges, in other words, do not come one at a time.

"Anyway, there are other pledges too, you know? I'm not saying them right this second. One each time I bring it up!"

...The truth was, I couldn't say the others because I hadn't exactly decided them yet.

There's a saying that ah and uh aren't the same ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠word, right? If you're going to speak, say the version that's pleasant to hear. Better for the listener, and better for the speaker, too.

"Now that the moderately major announcement is out of the way, shall we ease into a limited-time event?"

Lately, I had been deliberately steering clear of karaoke content. Push it too far, and the first thing anyone pictured at the name Marchen might stop being games and start being songs.

But once I'd landed the First Clear on the second boss, a thought began to surface.

Isn't it about time this is fine?

After this much, even the viewers who found me through the music video had to have picked up the idea that Marchen means gamer. Hadn't they?

Of course, that wasn't the only reason I'd decided to run the karaoke content I'd been avoiding on purpose. Even the sharpest blade rusts and goes dull if you never maintain it, so it needs regular care. Singing was no different. I had to keep that old sense from slipping away, and keep the skill from rusting over.

A stroke of luck that would never visit twice had found me. I had been given a teaching that all the money in the world couldn't pay for. And then my singing doesn't grow—it backslides? I genuinely couldn't lift my head at that.

So here's what I'm getting at.

"Part two is karaoke content."

I had judged that the content's cooldown had finished ticking down.

"But just doing karaoke straight would be kind of dull, wouldn't it? I mean, I used to sing while I played rhythm games, once upon a time."

So I nearly sang over a rhythm game again this time, and then I changed my mind. A fairly interesting idea for a segment had occurred to me—one tailored very specifically to otaku.

"I'm thinking of singing in a slightly different style, for the first time in a while."

With that, I took down my cam, which had been sitting on the broadcast feed. A face cam would only get in the way. Then I put a video I'd prepared ahead of time up on the broadcast screen.

The legendary video that had opened the birthday stream and pulled rave reviews out of countless MeTube viewers—a video that had passed through the hands of the artisan himself, Teacher Marchen.

Which raised the question. I'd said I was doing karaoke, so why was Teacher Marchen's video suddenly up on the screen?

I said the reason out loud.