A Heavy-Hearted Day

New people were coming in.

And not just anyone — these were heavyweights with serious clout.

News like that was more than enough to set the existing residents of Rena World buzzing. Everyone who'd been coasting suddenly started moving like their lives depended on it, spinning happy little fantasies in their heads.

If I hand the new arrivals some gear and a stipend and work the favorability angle hard enough… maybe some of that good fortune will trickle down to me?

The only ones who stayed completely unfazed were Apple-mong and a handful of others — including our V-Live crew. Apple-mong had been streaming for over eleven years; she'd seen every kind of chaos the industry could throw at her. As for my crew, I'd already locked them down with a firm warning beforehand.

Besides, I had every reason to feel confident.

I'd monopolized the server's resources for nearly half a month already. Chests were stacked with mending gear, and wings filled almost half a box. I'd also mass-produced shulker boxes to cover the inventory shortage and started selling them yesterday — at 150,000 Rena apiece.

Considering how easily shulker shells dropped in the Ender World, that was a serious markup. Later on they'd trade for under 50,000 Rena. But market price right now was pure supply and demand. By locking down the shulker monopoly and releasing only a trickle — a classic premium strategy — they'd become a can't-get-enough hot item.

Shame I couldn't lock in more building contracts. I figured I could still pull in a few more clients before the new resident recruitment kicked off.

The moment recruitment opened, everyone clamped their wallets shut on anything that wasn't essential. A house was a luxury, after all — interest was bound to dry up. Miho had finally gotten excited about having real work again, so it was a real shame.

Once this settles, I'll put her on a major construction project right away and hand her the underground mega-farm too. Wait — should I build the mega-farm outside instead? She did say she wanted outdoor work.

This was not petty leftover spite. Absolutely not. This was purely about making sure my crew members' needs got properly met.

Lucy was hard at work on interior design as well. She'd figured out the tricks of the trade by now and was moving much faster — pre-crafting everything in advance instead of waiting for a building to finish, then just placing the finished pieces the moment construction wrapped. Thanks to that, project timelines kept shrinking.

Skilled builders are rare. Just look at Na-ro-si's case.

Na-ro-si, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who'd passed Freeca's tryouts and — following the original timeline — never made it into Rena World. A Minecraft veteran who'd showcased such architectural talent that even Wang-ko had come asking for help, despite her being under Park Bong-sik's company. That was how scarce competent builders were in Rena World's early days.

I'm not dumping experience on those two for nothing. This is how they get noticed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in Rena World.

Mayo and I could make names for ourselves through combat and adventure alone. For the two who couldn't, this was a necessary stopgap. And once you properly learned building, the skill stayed useful forever. Even in Rena World, the building boom never cooled until the server shut down — and every server after that still had building elements baked in.

With that in mind, and since our stories were already tangled from the early days, I decided to give Coco-nyang a shot too. After Rena World she'd jump to the PUBG scene, so things felt a bit unfamiliar — but she'd started with building and eventually earned a reputation as a versatile, well-rounded talent. Like Han A-yeon, she'd been stuck under Bad Potato Company with barely any opportunities.

You can never have too much usable labor.

But naive Han A-yeon and '94-liner Coco-nyang were completely different animals. Just look at those ambition-soaked eyes. She was already scheming hard about which newly arriving streamers she could latch onto. So I cut the conversation short and sent her on her way.

Come to think of it, before the regression Coco-nyang had caught flak for hopping from crew to crew. She'd latched onto Mist faster than anyone and joined Bad Potato Company — then, once the leader vanished and the company became a hollow shell, she spent every day wandering around looking for the next ride. I understood the desperation, but at the end of the day it had been her own hasty choice.

Trying to make the same mistake again? Amusing.

Either way, she was a streamer who survived by clinging well enough — nothing more for me to get involved in. Dorai was tangled up with me too, but outside of combat there wasn't much to evaluate, so I passed.

My gaze moved to the next candidate.

Subnitti — the one who'd run Diamond CK with us. Before the regression she'd been Dananyang's right hand, then followed Park Bong-sik when he took over the company and became a Mu-yang Group member. Solid Discord presence, above-average at both building and combat. A decent acquisition.

"Subnitti-nim, want to try working with us?"

"Oh! Sure, I'm down."

The sweet taste of last CK must have left an impression — she accepted without hesitation. I hired her at a steeply discounted part-time rate, on the condition that I'd slot her into the next CK. First I needed to see how she worked and how much loyalty she actually had. Anyone who jumped ship the second their partner streamers showed up got cut immediately.

I assigned Subnitti to help Miho with building.

Good. This should be enough for now.

Padding the roster with meaningless bodies was poison. Akatsuki — widely considered the most successful model in pre-regression Rena World — had proven that. A small elite core, each member's individual charm on full display, and zero shortfall on the funding side. The only case that proved you could thrive without a major corporate streamer on the roster. V-Live and I needed to study that playbook carefully.

Right. Did ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they even apply this time?

Thinking about Akatsuki naturally brought Oh Yeong-jun to mind — and Oh-ha along with him. Thanks to the mental coaching I'd given her, Rena-ttang had grown confident enough about the server that she wasn't rubber-stamping applications the way she used to. Both of them would need to leave application comments… and when I checked, Oh-ha's comment was sitting a little below the middle of the rankings.

I'd given her a heads-up last time, too. If she was going to leave a comment, she could've at least given me a quiet word. She must have felt too awkward to ask for that kind of favor herself.

Hm? And Oh Yeong-jun hadn't left a comment at all.

I put up a notice on the fan café requesting firepower support for Oh-ha's comment. She needed to crack the top ten at minimum before I could relax. Then I messaged Oh Yeong-jun on Discord — why hadn't he left a comment when Rena World was recruiting new residents?

His reply came back quickly. He had an important schedule that would keep him off stream for about ten days, and joining the server under those circumstances felt too awkward.

Tsk. Oh Yeong-jun wasn't a kid. Over ten years of streaming experience, already in his thirties — he'd figure it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out himself. Come to think of it, even originally he'd entered the server later than Oh-ha.

Rena World prep is more or less done. Anything happening with the Poko Server?

When you grind your brain hard enough, the dopamine cravings kick in. And when you need dopamine, nothing beats the Poko Server. Today I was craving something a little more vicious, so instead of the FM Community I headed to Pan-beo-gal.

"……"

The public mood was vicious beyond belief. Worse than I'd expected.

Was this another butterfly effect from my existence? It really might be. Unlike before the regression, the rise of the V-Live crew had eaten into the virtual-streamer pie that crews like Pocotin and Decrescendo used to own. Fewer fans meant weaker friendly voices in the communities.

It's a shame, honestly. This was probably a challenge they took on with real ambition.

But with the results spiraling into catastrophe, there was nothing left to say. The people involved would have to bear it alone.

And looking at the public reaction, I was reminded once again — how much a leader's choices can decide.

A heavy-hearted day.