Our Dear Customers
December 12th, Monday.
At last, the gates of the Poko Server swung wide open.
To anyone who wasn’t a virtual fan swept in during the 720p crisis, the server’s very existence had already grown faint—but there was no denying the enormous influence it had once wielded in the early days of Pangea TV’s virtual scene.
Just as Freeca had been gathering strength for a decisive strike only to stagger under the Kyu-rings scandal in the previous timeline—and the Na-ro-si incident this time around—the swaggering Poko-tin crew had also taken a catastrophic hit from the server’s failure.
The capital loss alone was no small matter. The entire prize pool for the Poko Server had been crowdfunded by Poko-tin fans. On top of that, every piece of equipment and every labor cost required to run the server had come straight out of the streamers’ own pockets. The spilled plans and tangled messes that followed were countless.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The real damage lay elsewhere. Because the streamers themselves had stepped forward as operators and become the direct cause of the Poko Server’s collapse, the communities tore them apart. Not only FM Community but every Pangea TV-related gallery—virtual-related or not—exported posts for the sole purpose of dragging Ori-koong through the mud.
The parties involved were shattered, and their fans suffered right alongside them. Hiyori’s fans, who had only recently joined the crew, were especially furious. They felt Hiyori had taken a pure loss just by signing on with Poko-tin. Casual fans and hardcore funders alike began flashing “unhappy” and peeling away. The fans who had placed the highest hopes on the Poko Server were the ones who rebounded hardest against its failure.
That single collapse hit far too hard. The crew lost its growth engine entirely. Locked out of Rena World, Poko-tin’s weight class steadily shrank until they became just another crew with a name and nothing more.
They’d make a brief comeback in Rena World 2, but health issues would force them out and that would be the end of it.
It had been the last chance given to Ori-koong and the rest of Poko-tin. After that, Rabbit TV Korea would announce the end of its servers, and virtual streamers of monstrous scale would flood over in a mass migration, squeezing the livelihood of Pangea TV’s existing virtuals even tighter. In the end they would abandon virtual streaming altogether and leave for the StarCraft scene with Hiyori.
Poko-tin’s future taught me a great deal. Success itself is already difficult; maintaining and developing it is an order of magnitude harder. In a way it was only natural. What had once been a blue ocean on 2022 Pangea TV became known as a honey pot, competitors poured in, and once it turned into a red ocean you had to fight bloody battles just to keep the pie you already held.
Right. Getting comfortable with the current situation is the fast track to being left behind. You have to keep grinding and evolving without rest.
It was a principle that applied not only to streaming but to every field. Trends shift with the times, and only those who adapt quickly survive.
“Waaaaah!”
Clap-clap-clap—!
After a day and a half of nonstop work, Miho finished the V-Live crew house. Calling it a “crew house” was generous; by sheer scale it was closer to a rather flashy private residence.
We’d run short on quartz the day before, so even I had been dragged into the hell-farming squad. Mayo and I had a grand old time mining quartz down in the Nether. That was the day I truly felt the monstrous power of the maxed-out pickaxe all over again. When I was chipping away at the disgustingly hard deepslate near diamond levels the difference hadn’t registered, but the moment I started clearing netherrack—softer than ordinary stone—two or three blocks vanished with every swing. The sensation was pure pleasure.
And why is it called netherrack, anyway? Players are so used to calling the place “hell” that the name stuck, but the dimension’s real name is the Nether. You travel there through a Nether portal built from obsidian. Ninety-nine percent of the reason anyone farms there is quartz, but you can pick up all sorts of other items too. Ancient debris, in particular, smelts into netherite scrap; four scraps plus four gold ingots yield a netherite ingot. Netherite ingots are the essential material for upgrading diamond gear. Once something becomes netherite-tier, its durability jumps and—most importantly—it no longer melts in lava. True endgame equipment in every sense of the word.
There was a time when a single netherite ingot went for around two hundred thousand won, wasn’t there?
I remembered the price peaking that high during the big gear-upgrade boom.
“Thank you all for attending the completion ceremony of the V-Live crew house. I’m Miho, the lead architect.”
She gave a neat little bow.
A clean white modern house had risen near the village portal building. A structure that had appeared overnight was bound to draw every eye. Until now, “houses” in Rena World had been little more than dirt-and-wood shacks, basic stone boxes, or the occasional underground burrow. In short, the materials alone were on a completely different level. And true to its “YouTube Edition” design, the exterior was sleek and luxurious.
The interior still needs work, but even this much is plenty.
At this stage of the server, almost no one even thought to watch YouTube tutorials and copy builds. Just look at them all standing there with their mouths hanging open. Genuine awe and surprise.
“Wow, I really want to live somewhere like this.”
“What materials did you use? How did you even build this?”
Questions poured toward Miho from every direction. I could picture her face lighting up with pride even if I couldn’t see it. Yes—this was exactly the kind of accomplishment that kept a person growing.
Following Miho’s lead, the crowd of onlookers stepped onto the property. The first thing that caught the eye was the fountain in the courtyard. Across from it sat a table and chairs so you could enjoy a peaceful moment outdoors. And then, finally, we entered the interior.
Trailing behind the noisy throng, I switched my sound settings so everyone could hear and started playing the Love House BGM.
Da-da-da-da~ da-da-da-da-da~
“All right, this is the kitchen. Everyone see this table? It’s made from the finest mahogany hardwood, and the way it lines up with the sink structure over there…”
“Uh, doesn’t Minecraft not even have mahogany trees?”
“Excuse me, unnie.”
“Yes?”
“Could you come with me for a second? This way.”
“……?”
“Ahaha, sorry about the little interruption. Let me continue.”
The troublemaker had been handled by Mayo’s bodyguard detail, so rest easy! We had a perfectly excellent means of conversation called a diamond sword.
A short while later the former interrupter rejoined us with a thoroughly obedient expression and became a perfect Yes-girl, nodding along to every one of Miho’s explanations.
“And that concludes the bedroom tour. How did everyone like it? I put a lot of effort into this.”
“It was great!”
“I want to live in a house like this!”
Our prospective marks gazed up at Miho with sparkling eyes. One of the braver ones stepped forward and asked whether architectural commissions were possible. She was a Minecraft beginner with zero confidence in building, but she desperately wanted a pretty house just like this one.
Miho welcomed her with a gentle smile and pointed in my direction.
“Ah, our director will walk you through that part. Director~”
“Yes. Right this way, customer.”
I guided her to the entrance of a discreet underground passage hidden beside the kitchen. We climbed down the ladder. The moment we reached the bottom I casually smashed the lowest rungs with my pickaxe. Until someone reinstalled them, the ladder was unusable.
Ah, don’t worry. I’m not that violent. I simply took a few precautions in case negotiations didn’t go smoothly.
“Wow! Are all of these actually buildable designs?”
“They are. See anything you like?”
Calling it a “secret underground passage” might conjure images of shady dealings, but the space was lined with pure white quartz and studded with lights overhead—genuinely impressive. The walls were covered with screenshots of finished YouTube builds.
Our potential Mark No. 1 marveled as she examined the photos.
“Hah! This three-story house is gorgeous. C-could I ask how much something like this would cost?”
“Of course. First, let me assure you that the prices I’m about to quote are extremely reasonable. I’ll start with the materials required for this three-story modern house.”
Five hundred smooth quartz blocks, four hundred eighty-seven black stained-glass panes, three hundred fifty-four andesite, one hundred eighty diorite, one hundred thirty-four light-blue concrete, one hundred two smooth stone slabs, eighty-three smooth quartz slabs, fifty-three diorite walls, thirty-three white carpets, thirty-five cyan concrete, twenty gray carpets, eighteen end rods, sixteen birch fences, thirteen white banners, eleven moss blocks, nine smooth quartz stairs, seven sea lanterns…
“S-stop! Just tell me the price!”
“This model will run you fifteen million Rena. Considering materials and labor, it’s a steal.”
“Whaaat? Th-that’s way too expensive. My entire fortune is only 1.1 million Rena.”
“Naturally we have more affordable models as well. The three-story modern house is actually our most expensive option. How about this building over here? Four hundred fifty thousand Rena.”
“Ah…”
Our Mark No. 1 wore a pained expression—she loved the house, but her finances simply wouldn’t allow it. I stepped a little closer and whispered into her ear.
“Actually, we also offer a mortgage service. If you put up your future labor as collateral—ah, I mean, if our valued customer signs a labor contract—you can have this beautiful house right away. Wait, what? Provide labor and get this amazing house immediately?”
Drawing on my pre-regression sales experience, I expertly cooked every streamer who came in for a consultation. Before they knew it they were going “Huh?” while stamping and signing the contract.
Rena World was mass-producing house-poor residents.