Approaching Month-End
Monday the 28th.
The whole crew gathered to run a content stream of Me-un-di, the game currently trending on Pangea TV.
Me-un-di was short for Maple Random Defense, a popular StarCraft custom map. For anyone unfamiliar, think of it as those mobile tower-defense games. Stronger waves of monsters poured out each round, and players had to stockpile currency to choose between two approaches: rolling random gacha for troops, or steadily upgrading base stats.
What made it fun was how each crew member’s personality bled straight into their playstyle.
“This is pure gacha all the way! You can upgrade till you’re blue in the face, but if you never pull a high-grade unit you’ll never even clear the second boss round. I’m rolling gacha and nothing else until I hit Legendary or better!”
That was Mayo, going all-in for the life-changing jackpot. The funny part was how often that gambler’s instinct actually paid off. Or maybe Mayo just had absurd luck. High-grade units kept popping out for her, and she regularly ranked near the top.
“No, no, this has to be played safe. Look at those gacha rates—look at them. One big swing and you’re dead. You put money in savings, you buy the essential insurance early… Huh? Cancer insurance is too soon? Hey, that’s exactly how people ruin their lives. Don’t brush off your unnie’s advice.”
Was this the game design of a seasoned thirty-year-old? Miho was safety-first to the core. She only dribbled out gacha pulls after locking in enough upgrades to clear each round reliably. She rarely took first among us, but she never collapsed early either, so her average put her in a solid second overall.
“Uh, uhh? What do I press here…? Ah! That’s the upgrade for a different race? Hweh! I’m doomed. What? Spend some money? Gasp! When did I even get a hundred? I-I’ll use it right away.”
“…….”
Lucy was the classic total beginner. On top of that she had paper-thin ears, so chat yanked her every which way. Backseat gamers swarmed in droves. Advice flooded the chat every ten seconds; just looking at it could drive you insane. Still, the fact that she never crumbled and kept grinding away deserved real respect for her mental fortitude.
And where did Lucy place? You toxic or what? Dead last, obviously. Trying to drag that out to the end was just cruel.
As for me, no need to ask—overwhelming first place.
Heh. A game like this? Child’s play once it lands in my hands.
“Ahh, I’m already in first so the words of mere mortals just don’t reach me? In the end I proved it.”
I ignored the howling protests from chat and wrapped the content on a warm, cheerful note with the crew. Bonus prize for first place: three thousand Candy from the crew content funding pot. All in all, a pretty great day.
Tuesday the 29th.
I was busy from the moment I woke up. Mayo and Miho had finished their recordings too, so I did the first-pass check and immediately handed everything off to the editor. The second that was done, Discord lit up with an incoming call—from none other than Rena-ttang.
I answered with a slight edge of tension, and she launched straight into machine-gun fire.
“Seo-a, Seo-a. So last night I got a whisper, right? From Decrescendo—that Park Na-na, their leader. She asked pretty politely and all, but the core of it was she just wants to hop straight into the server without any application process. Ha! Isn’t that a little arrogant? What do you think, Seo-a? I’m curious.”
It was chaotic and my ears were already ringing. More than anything, it hit me again: Rena-ttang was not someone you wanted to get close to. Dumping private talk like this on other people? That meant anything I said could be passed along just as easily. Old wisdom said to keep your distance from people with loose lips.
Still, she was the admin of Rena World. I couldn’t start treating her coldly this early. For now I decided to play along and soothe her. Of course that didn’t mean badmouthing Park Na-na. From the way Rena-ttang was acting, the second we had even a mild falling-out she’d run straight to Park Na-na and snitch. Better to avoid unnecessary drama.
So I stuck to principle and worked on calming her down.
“It might come across that way a little, but I think it’s a choice that really helps the server. If both Decrescendo and we all join, virtual streamer attention will focus here and other streamers will apply more aggressively too.”
I casually highlighted the existence of the Poko Server as well—framing it as better that the Decrescendo crew was interested in Rena World rather than that side. Once the calculations finished in her head, Rena-ttang’s voice settled a lot.
“Now that you put it that way… Poko Server, right? The one Ori-koong’s leading the open for… Ugh, unbelievable. On Rabbit TV she just did reca-hunting, and now she shows up here wanting to play Minecraft.”
“…….”
True to form for someone who had once advised Rena Universe members not to get close to Ori-koong, pure disgust rolled off her. But did she know? In the future she herself would become an object of far greater hatred than Ori-koong ever was. Ori-koong got beaten down and hamstrung by the karma she’d racked up back on Rabbit TV, while Rena-ttang’s public opinion would freefall because of what she did later on Pangea TV. Purely on that score, Ori-koong was a hundred times better off.
Not my problem to worry about that far. Working with Rena-ttang only lasts through Rena World 2 anyway.
Just keep her mood managed until then and it would be over. This was adult business at its finest.
After pouring out a long stream of Ori-koong hate and apparently working off a good chunk of stress, Rena-ttang ended the call in a much brighter voice. Haha, she wasn’t treating me like her personal stress dump, was she?
With the morning schedule safely cleared, the afternoon stream slot rolled closer. I spent a moment wondering what to run today. Yesterday’s Me-un-di content had been perfect for burning time—crew energy high, chat reactions great. Being a four-player game made it ideal for crew content, so we’d probably do it again often. Separately, though, I just couldn’t think of anything solid for today’s solo stream.
No choice. Even a streamer with genius-level talent couldn’t pull fresh content out of thin air every single day. On Rabbit TV you could freeload forever with video donations. Pangea TV technically had a video Candy donation feature too, but it only worked with internal clips so almost nobody used it. Plus there was this lingering idea that viewers interrupting the stream flow was rude, so the feature never got a warm reception.
That perception softened a lot after Rabbit TV Korea shut down and the mass streamer migration hit. And starting late in the first half of ’24, YouTube video Candy donations became possible, so usage climbed.
“…….”
Petty bastards. I took first place, I’m allowed to gloat a little—yet they keep dragging yesterday’s win out to needle me. Still, I didn’t flinch. I was a streamer with a full-time pro mindset. No way I was losing a staring contest with chat.
I traded opening banter smoothly while my left hand quietly opened the phone and logged into the fan café. The recommended content board would have something usable. After about ten minutes of diligent digging I found a reliable “comfort food” content that would get me through the day. I started reading the room and introduced today’s plan.
“Alright everyone, today after a long break we’re doing an Ideal Type World Cup. Waaaaah! Everyone excited? What theme will it be this time—my heart’s already racing!”
“Not ‘massive upvote~’—eat this instead.”
I proudly flipped chat a stiff middle finger and launched the Ideal Type World Cup.
And just like that, the end of the month kept drawing closer.