A Briefcase of Desperation
Monday morning. An article published by a digital entertainment media outlet focusing on the internet broadcasting community spread rapidly.
As soon as the article went live, viewers who had watched the shamanic reading special broadcast two days prior began sharing the link across various online communities. Some even uploaded screenshots of the broadcast alongside the link, and reactions poured in immediately.
At first, the conversation started with Akasha's article. However, before the thread could grow much longer, the focus of the discussion began to shift elsewhere.
Then, someone compiled a summary of all the shamanic readings Perpetual Job Seeker had performed so far and posted it to the community.
• 29-Year-Old Unemployed: Told him not to go to the interview ➔ The bus he was going to take got into a major accident.
• Boneless Ramen: Told her her boyfriend had another woman ➔ Caught him cheating red-handed on stream.
• agei: Warned of a stock crash ➔ Novagen Therapeutics plummeted. (Omitted)
• Croco: Warned of a connection-based scam ➔ Coin fraud controversy erupted.
• Akasha: Discovered an unofficial offer ➔ Confirmed to join the band ZXCV.
As the summary post spread, the reactions grew even more explosive.
Inquiries flooded every community. Posts asking about the reservation process, the cost of the bokchae, and when the next stream would go live appeared endlessly. Even people who had never watched the stream before began searching for clips and VOD links to share.
The response was immediately reflected in the numbers. Perpetual Job Seeker's social media follower count began to skyrocket. Views on stream clips and VOD traffic also saw a noticeable surge. A name that, until recently, had only circulated within Ocean was now spreading across the entire internet broadcasting scene.
The Ocean operations team was frantically busy from Monday morning. Between desks crowded with multiple monitors, the sounds of typing and mouse clicks overlapped in a chaotic rhythm. Some employees scanned their screens with coffee cups resting beside them, while others refreshed the real-time metrics that had just been updated.
Then, one employee muttered, "...What is this?"
The employee in the next seat asked without even looking up, "What's what?"
"Perpetual Job Seeker's stream."
With a brief reply, the monitor was turned. The graph was climbing at a steep, near-vertical angle. The number of concurrent viewers had hit thirty thousand in an instant as soon as the stream went live. Even after the broadcast ended, the influx of traffic showed no signs of slowing down.
Number of clips generated. New registrations. Follower growth. Water droplet purchases. Even average watch time. Every single metric was spiking abnormally.
"Is this a system error?"
"No. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the transaction logs."
"Didn't the atmosphere of the stream feel incredibly heavy the other day?"
"That's exactly why more people are tuning in. The more intense it is, the more entertaining it gets."
The employee chuckled in disbelief. "The other streamers looked like they were dying from the pressure, but the viewer count just kept climbing."
"The communities are talking about nothing but Perpetual Job Seeker, too. People are mentioning his shamanic reading stream way more than Akasha joining ZXCV."
"Is it really okay to let this continue? He just blurts out whatever he sees, whether it's someone's private life or their past. One wrong move and we're looking at a massive lawsuit."
"As long as the sparks don't fly our way, it's fine. The viewers love it. It draws a crowd because it's provocative, and it brings in serious cash. Though, that's exactly why it's such a headache."
Just then, the operations team leader chimed in. "Perpetual Job Seeker is currently classified as a regular streamer, right?"
"Yes, Team Leader. He only started streaming recently."
"Other platforms are going to catch wind of this and come running."
"Catch wind? They're probably already making calls."
The team leader frowned. "What's his revenue split?"
"Since he's a regular streamer, it's currently 60-40."
The team leader's expression hardened. "Best Streamer is 70-30, and Partner is 80-20, right?"
"Yes."
Someone spoke up cautiously. "For someone of Perpetual Job Seeker's caliber, isn't it stranger to keep him locked down as a regular streamer?"
The team leader didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared down at the screen displaying Perpetual Job Seeker's broadcast metrics for a long moment. Even to him, Perpetual Job Seeker was no longer in the weight class of a regular streamer. It wasn't just the special broadcast. His daily personal stream metrics were exceptionally high. In particular, the volume of water droplets he received was enough to rival even the top cam-streamers.
Soon, the team leader spoke briefly. "Gather the data. We're going straight up."
Armed with the hastily compiled reports, the operations team leader headed straight for the CEO's office. Standing before the door, he knocked lightly.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
The team leader opened the door, stepped inside, and placed the documents on the table. The CEO, leaning back on his sofa, flipped through the pages one by one. At first, his expression remained unchanged. After reviewing the documents to the end, the CEO looked up.
"Perpetual Job Seeker? Are these all the figures from his shamanic reading special?"
"Yes, sir."
"The stream that everyone said was highly problematic?"
"Yes, sir."
The CEO set the documents down and asked, "In what way?"
"He's uncontrollable."
"Uncontrollable?"
"There's no predicting how far he'll go with his exposures, or who he'll target next. If things go sideways, we could end up on the front page of the news."
The CEO rested his chin on his hand, sinking into thought for a moment. "But he's making money, isn't he?"
"Yes, sir."
"What's the community reaction?"
"It's complicated, but the buzz is undeniable. After all, the noisier it is, the faster the word spreads."
The CEO's lips curled into a smirk. "True. The more controversial it is, the more people flock to it."
The team leader cautiously continued. "Because of that, it's highly likely that other platforms are already making their moves."
"What are our terms?"
"He's currently registered as a regular streamer."
The CEO let out a dry chuckle. "We still have him as a regular streamer?"
"Well, it hasn't been long since he started broadcasting..."
The CEO scanned the documents once more before speaking. "Promote him to Partner immediately. Give him whatever signing bonus he asks for. In exchange, secure an exclusive contract."
"Yes, Mr. President."
"Oh, by the way."
The team leader paused in his tracks.
"I'd like to get a shamanic reading myself. Is that possible?"
"Well, sir... you'll probably have to get in line."
"..."
The CEO was momentarily speechless. The team leader felt equally awkward.
"Then, when you bring up the contract negotiations, tell him I'd like to meet him."
"Pardon?"
"Tell him the CEO of Ocean wants to have a quiet, private meeting with him."
"...Ah, yes. Understood, sir."
After the team leader left, the CEO's office fell silent once more. The CEO stared down at the documents on the table again and muttered to himself, "I am the CEO, after all."
Monday evening. Although the world had been noisy all day with the news of Akasha, Park Jihun's house was quiet. Park Jihun, who had been lying in bed all day, only dragged himself up after the sun had completely set. Perhaps because it was his day off, he felt exceptionally sluggish. He was hungry. He was rummaging through the refrigerator when his phone rang. It was Kim Usik.
"Yeah."
"Hey, you alive?"
"I answered, didn't I? What is it?"
"Let's grab a drink. Stop rotting inside your house."
"Too lazy."
"Should I just come over to your place then?"
"...Where are you?"
"Our usual pojangmacha."
Park Jihun let out a soft sigh, threw on a hoodie, and headed out. The pojangmacha was already bustling with people. Through the transparent vinyl tent, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses blended together. Usik, sitting at a table in the back, waved his hand.
"What took you so long?"
"Be grateful I even showed up."
"Did you see the article about Akasha?"
"Roughly."
Park Jihun picked up his soju glass as soon as he sat down. Usik slid a plate of food toward him, snickering. "How did you manage to cause such a massive scene during that special broadcast? Seriously, my heart almost stopped watching you."
"You told me to be honest."
"I mean, yeah, but still! There are articles everywhere, and the whole internet is turned upside down."
"...Shut up."
They were drinking and chatting when the vinyl flap at the entrance of the pojangmacha rustled, and a familiar face stepped inside. Park Jihun's hand froze. The man was wearing a suit, but he looked like an absolute wreck. One side of his collar was crooked, and dark circles hung heavily under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in days. His face was noticeably gaunt.
Usik frowned and asked, "Do you know him?"
Park Jihun stared intently at the man before speaking. "...Neyton?"
Kim Tae-jun hesitated for a moment before walking over. He offered an awkward smile and asked, "Do you mind if I join you?"
Park Jihun didn't answer and simply set down his soju glass. Kim Tae-jun sat in the empty seat across from him. An awkward silence fell over the table. Usik was the first to speak. "Neyton? You're the VIP of Jihun's stream, that third-generation chaebol, right?"
Kim Tae-jun answered first. "Yes. I am indeed Neyton."
Park Jihun spoke in a cold, detached voice. "How did you find this place?"
"I came because I have something to say to you."
"I'm listening."
With an awkward smile, Kim Tae-jun drank a cup of water before continuing. "I've been going through a very difficult time lately."
Park Jihun said nothing. Sensing his silence, Kim Tae-jun spoke again. "I need your help."
Still, there was no reply. Hesitating, Kim Tae-jun asked in a desperate voice, "Is there really no way?"
Park Jihun's eyes turned icy. "You know my stream rules."
Kim Tae-jun clenched his teeth. After a brief silence, he spoke cautiously. "Could you step outside with me for a moment?"
Park Jihun didn't budge.
"It will only take a moment."
After staring at him for a while, Park Jihun finally stood up. Usik looked back and forth between the two with a dazed expression. "Hey, what's going on? Should I come too?"
"It's fine. I'll be right back."
As they stepped outside the pojangmacha, the night air felt cool. Kim Tae-jun walked silently toward a car parked along the street. It was an expensive foreign car that looked completely out of place in this neighborhood. Park Jihun stood a few paces away, watching him. Kim Tae-jun caught his breath in front of the trunk, then immediately popped it open. Inside lay a black briefcase. Retrieving it, Kim Tae-jun unlocked the latches himself.
Click.
The briefcase was packed tight with stacks of fifty-thousand-won bills.
"It's one hundred million won."
Park Jihun stared at Kim Tae-jun without a word. Kim Tae-jun parted his lips with great difficulty. "Please... help me."