D-1

"Lost again? You got completely wiped this time?"

Bang—!

The shotgun came down hard. Keyboard keys scattered in a spectacular spray. The chat window flooded with a wall of laughter, and Discord filled with the voices of streamers gleefully roasting him. It was a perfect collab of pure salt-in-the-wound theater.

"Ah, Bong-sik, those forty-eight thousand Candies are so sweet. My teeth are rotting. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠makes me forget all about you going full Satan in LoL-land. Nobody but Bong-sik, I swear. Good work today."

"Aaaargh!"

Park Bong-sik tore at his hair, writhing in agony at Kkul-tem's honey-sweet, laughter-soaked voice. Watching the chat explode with uncontrollable laughter, I had to admit—there was a reason the big agencies were the big agencies.

But seriously, this is insane. How many Candies did I even make off two rounds of MCK?

Just from the match mission payouts alone, I'd pulled in nearly ninety-five thousand. Add the spillover from getting tangled up as Park Bong-sik's rival, and the total had easily cleared a hundred thousand.

Honestly, my conscience was starting to hurt.

The first time, maybe. But today wasn't something I planned—though it did end up feeling a little like I was parking on him.

My current rank was Platinum 4, but even accounting for how rusty I'd gotten since my prime, I was probably sitting somewhere between Platinum 1 and Diamond 4. Against Park Bong-sik, a hardstuck Gold, the tier gap was undeniable.

Yeah, this is getting a little ugly. Whatever else I am, I've been a League player for a long time.

Solo queue and team game ranks weren't the same thing, sure—but my skill was climbing faster than I'd expected. All right. This was far enough. This was where I stopped.

As a player who'd been in League since Season 5, I had a genuine affection for the game. Money and fame were nice, but I could earn those plenty of other ways. I didn't want to keep doing things that left my conscience feeling greasy.

And I've got a little guilt to work off here.

I carefully covered my screen to hide any personal info and topped up some Candies. After a moment's hesitation over the amount, I boldly typed in ten thousand. A tenth of the windfall felt like a fair kickback.

"Wha—?! What is this? What the hell— Aaaargh! Seo-a just dropped ten thousand?! Seo-a, what's with the sudden donation?!"

Park Bong-sik, mid-theatrical meltdown, nearly smashed his face into the camera at the sudden explosion of an enormous Candy donation.

How was I supposed to get my real feelings across?

I could never reveal that I was a regressor. Claiming I'd hit Master before would be a straight own-goal—broadcast suicide. So I chose the path of explaining it as calmly as possible.

"Uncle Bong-sik. I'm genuinely grateful. And I'm sorry. I made close to a hundred thousand off MCK, and I told you last time—our balance is off. I mean this. My conscience can't take it anymore. Honestly? Uncle Bong-sik, you're just too bad."

It came out a little harsh, but he needed that kind of shock therapy to snap out of it. Look at the situation coldly and he'd realize I was right.

"……"

A frigid silence settled over Discord. Not just Park Bong-sik himself—even Kkul-tem, who'd been chattering away like a hyperactive bird, went dead quiet. For a moment it felt like the whole world had frozen.

"Heh heh heh."

What broke the silence was Park Bong-sik's laugh. His shoulders, head still buried in front of the camera, began to shake harder and harder with the growing sound.

"So what you're saying is you pity me? And that I'm disgustingly bad…… this isn't even a script, this is all genuine— GAAAAAH!"

"Hey! You're not getting away with this. Just wait. Next time I'm prepping a premium-grade MCK. No—how about we just settle this at Myeolmangjeon? Huh? Starting tomorrow I'm finding a coach and going into closed-door training with Nobangjong!"

"……"

Okay, what was wrong with these people?

I'd said it because I was genuinely sorry and worried. On the other side of the screen, Park Bong-sik was still red-faced and roaring, and the chat was filling up with cheers for me.

I seriously wondered: between me and this world, who was the abnormal one?

……Surely it wasn't me, right?

The first day of December.

Yesterday's events had spread further than I'd expected. Over ten popular posts about it had gone up on FM Community, plus plenty of threads asking about me. The Virtubies were happily piling into the comments, and even the fans of human streamers were reacting favorably for once.

Apparently, me driving Park Bong-sik into Nobangjong closed-door training had been a major factor. Unlimited content to tear into, chew on, and enjoy for the foreseeable future.

I'm already looking forward to today's stream.

With this much buzz, the spillover donations would pour in sweet. The match missions alone were about to blow open wallets—and now this bonus service on top. Truly, Bong-sik was the giving tree that kept on giving.

I should express this feeling as gratitude.

I quietly logged into Pangea TV and checked the stream sitting at the very top. Whether Park Bong-sik had pulled an all-nighter or not, he was grinding solo queue in exhausted silence.

"Huh? Hey, you—! Do you know how many solo queue games I've been grinding since dawn—"

I hit-and-ran with the donation and bolted. No matter how good the viewer reaction had been, camping in someone else's stream for too long was still pure freeloading. Some people just wanted to focus on their main streamer's content. A clean strike-and-fade was the way to go.

This would keep the aggro simmering a little longer until I went live this afternoon.

I peeked into the fan cafe and found it packed with reaction clips from yesterday's MCK—Park Bong-sik going full genuine rage after getting counter-jungled, my teammates praising my plays, the works.

Just watching these reaction clips alone would eat up a solid hour today.

Not only had the post count exploded—the cafe membership had jumped too. Checking the numbers, a hundred and twenty-seven people had joined in a single day. The Virtubie pie had its limits, and cafe growth had been stalling out—yesterday's MCK had clearly made the difference.

In the end, I have to pull even the human streamer fans into the virtual scene. If I can't, we'll get swallowed whole by the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Rabbit TV transplants on pure ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠size difference.

I left the cafe, already sketching out today's stream content in my head. There was plenty else to think about, too.

Most important of all is tomorrow.

It had crept right up to our doorstep.