Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Looking for an Editor
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Somehow managing to buy my sister a coffee, we finally parted ways.
She offered to drive me home in her car, but since it was just a quick subway ride away, I politely declined and headed back alone.
Seoha noona put on an indifferent front, but deep down, my refusal seemed to leave her a bit disappointed—she drove off with a somewhat lonely smile.
“Milk, Dad’s home.”
“Meow.”
As always when I got home, Milk greeted me from his lofty perch on the cat tower.
This guy rarely came all the way to the entrance to welcome me, so maybe he was in an extra good mood today. I shuffled into the room and flopped face-first onto the bed.
Thud.
“Haa...”
With the tension finally snapping loose, a reflexive sigh slipped out.
In some ways, the time alone with Seoha noona had been tougher than the company meeting. Sitting across from her, watching me with those occasional eye smiles—it was brutal to hold out as a guy in his prime.
Is the distance between streamer and fan supposed to feel like this? Guess it’ll take some time to get used to.
Whirr.
Work was work, though, so I fired up the computer the moment I arrived and changed into comfy clothes.
Roughly an hour left until the stream.
I’d jot down the key points for today’s broadcast in a notepad and log in. Until then, a bit of web surfing to kill time.
“Hiring a YouTube editor...”
I was scrolling through short YouTube clips to clear my foggy head when a notice from a subscribed channel caught my eye—I read it aloud without thinking.
Come to think of it, the deputy manager had brought up starting a YouTube channel during today’s meeting. Maybe I should dive in too.
I wasn’t the type who was good at handing off work to others, and honestly, I’d always felt my streams lacked that punchy entertainment value. That’s why I’d held off until now.
Or rather than holding off, I’d flat-out decided against it.
But looking back now, was there really any reason to chicken out preemptively? It wasn’t like I was skipping the kimchi over a few maggots—if it flops, I can bail early.
Yeah. Whether it turns to poison or medicine, time to throw myself at it.
“...Ah.”
With my thoughts neatly squared away, I was mulling over posting an editor hiring notice today when something zipped through my mind with a sharp crackle.
Oh yeah—that guy had mentioned it before. Worth a shot asking.
【Me - Hey】
【Me - Heeeey】
【Me - Whatcha up to?】
I hammered out messages in the chat window labeled ‘Park Jaesung’.
He was basically my one and only friend—my bro-friend—the source of our sticky frenemy history stretching back to third grade elementary school. The guy who’d recommended I start streaming in the first place. A benefactor, sort of.
Anyway, why the hell wasn’t this punk checking his texts? Ten minutes gone already. No way he’s asleep at this hour?
【Park Jaesung - What】
【Park Jaesung - Dying here grinding LoL, fuck】
Right as the doubt hit, exactly twelve minutes later, a reply trickled in.
His response was so rude it nearly made a vein bulge in my forehead, but the excuse checked out, so I let the anger slide.
Eh, LoL waits for no man.
But weird—he never replies during LoL unless it’s his girlfriend. Doesn’t even pick up for his parents.
【Me - Dead yet? How you texting mid-LoL?】
【Park Jaesung - Game over, asshole】
【Me - Ah】
No shit, you ignoring prick. Stupid me for thinking he’d squeeze out time mid-game.
Anyway, game’s done—perfect time to ask.
【Me - Quick call?】
【Me - Got questions about that thing you mentioned】
【Park Jaesung - Go】
We both hated typing marathons, so it quickly shifted from texts to a call.
I hit dial, and he picked up in under a second. A deep, gravelly bass voice boomed through.
- What’s up?
Skipping greetings or small talk entirely, he cut straight to it. I sighed and spoke up.
“Didn’t you say you knew an editor before?”
- Yeah. Why? Hunting for one? Thought you said no YouTube.
“Well, actually...”
He’d nagged me about it a bunch before, and I’d shot it down hard every time. Flipping now might sound ridiculous, so I spilled the whole rundown of today’s chat with the deputy manager.
Not a peep or even an “uh-huh” from the other end. Only after I wrapped up did he grunt an ambiguous “Hm.”
- You moron. Should’ve jumped when I told you. Your stream’s perfect YouTube bait.
“How’m I supposed to trust some non-expert? Viewers were lower back then anyway.”
- No, other people too... Ugh, fuck it. Shouldn’t bother. Trying to help your ass.
A twinge of guilt hit me at his upside-down-world muttering, but editor business came first—I pushed ahead.
“Anyway, wanted to check if that editor found work yet.”
- Nah. Got canned two months back, give or take.
“Huh, why?”
- Boss stiffed ‘em on pay. Bailed after three months, been tied up reporting to the labor board till recently.
“Total scumbag.”
Jeez, if you’re gonna use people, at least treat ‘em decent. Even I’ve never hired anyone and I know that. Why’s the world crawling with soulless hacks? Tsk.
“They any good? First time hiring an editor, so I’m kinda worried.”
- Pretty solid, I’d say. Did some company freelance gig recently.
“That so?”
Company gigs aren’t a cakewalk. Pay dwarfs YouTube editing, but competition’s brutal from what I hear.
Meaning if a company handed ‘em work, their skills are vetted.
Talent like that unemployed? Now we’re talking.
“Hook me up then. Beef’s on me.”
- Ooh, beef? For real?
“If you deliver solid, sure.”
Look at this hyena lunging at free grub.
Income’s been steady lately, expenses low—beef once is fine. I nodded coolly.
Typing clacks from his end, then his voice piped up.
- Just asked. Free anytime this week. When?
“Already? You’re quick.”
- Gotta be for beef.
Slick as ever, but he saw my eagerness—setting it up fast. Much appreciated.
Time to nail down dates. I pulled off the phone, checked my PC calendar.
Hm, my schedule’s wide open. Sooner the better.
“Let’s do the three of us soon. Beef then too.”
- Whoa, wallet’s fat these days? Covering two?
Amazed at me footing beef for both.
I don’t love flashing cash, but riding the vibe, I shrugged with a cocky drawl.
“All thanks to the chairman’s grace.”
- Chairman?
“Yeah, something like that.”
Technically a viewer, not chairman, but it’d lose flavor. I started, then backpedaled late.
“Anyway, lunch soon? I’ll text details once set.”
- Cool. I’ll tell her.
“Her?”
Call wrapping up, but his vibe toward this editor felt oddly intimate—curiosity piqued.
Who was it? Family?
“Hey, just checking—what’s your deal with this editor?”
- Deal? It’s Nayeon. Didn’t I say?
“...What? Nayeon?”
Misheard?
Nayeon as in that Yoo Nayeon? The one dating him since middle school, constantly rubbing it in my face—that Yoo Nayeon?
Suddenly every puzzle piece clicked. Forehead in hand.
Fucking asshole. Not helping a bro—pimping a job for his girl. Even my beef-buying hype’s gone.
No wonder the instant replies, deep personal deets. Face I’ve endured endlessly—extra pissed now.
So now I gotta watch this couple salt me side-by-side while playing sugar daddy?
What a shitty life.
Scrap the YouTube now?