I Don't Have Any
Even if you hang a Ministry of Defense clock upside down, it still keeps ticking.
The exact same rule applies to the streaming world.
V-Utopia’s audition, the chaotic saga of the Poco Server, and the open call for new residents in Rena World—all of it kept rolling forward without pause. Over on the League of Legends side, the Stove League was in full swing, every eye locked on the free-agency moves of famous pros. StarCraft’s form had slipped a long way, yet the game still clung stubbornly to life. Battlegrounds, meanwhile, had reached the point of running kill-bet factories just to test how filthy a broadcast could get.
The sheer firepower of the virtual streamer community made it look like they ran Pangea TV, but if you actually counted heads they barely made up one-twentieth of the total audience. Even that much was something to be grateful for. The Wooga-dol audition that first put Pangea TV’s virtual scene on the map had only wrapped up a month ago. Looking at the growth curve since then was genuinely staggering.
But that growth was finally hitting its ceiling. Streaming itself was already a niche hobby, and virtual streaming was a niche inside that niche. On top of that, the overall virtual pie was still far more active over on Rabbit TV. In the end, Pangea TV’s virtual streamers needed a brand-new engine for growth.
What was that engine?
If the existing virtual fanbase had reached its limit, the best move was to open a new market—pull in the viewers of human streamers. And the foothold that made it possible was none other than Rena World.
Virtual streamers and human streamers sharing one continuous space for nearly half a year. Even classmates who meet for the first time at the start of a new semester get used to each other within a month; these people had spent several times that long together. Human streamers’ fans had no choice but to shed their old unfamiliarity and rejection of virtuals and get thoroughly brainwashed into liking them.
That was probably the moment it began—the moment virtual streamers were truly accepted on Pangea TV. After Rena World, it became completely normal to see virtuals applying for CK matches, and in big collab content their application comments routinely outranked human streamers for the top spots. A genuine golden age of virtuals.
And no matter who tried to claim credit, the achievement clearly belonged to Rena World under server admin Rena-ttang.
And today is the real start of that exchange.
Thursday, December 15th.
The day the new residents of Rena World logged in for the first time.
Among the key names, Mist led the pack, joined by LoL streamer Haisu-ya, along with a handful of other virtual streamers who had also made the cut.
Murmur, murmur—!
The fountain plaza in Taecho Village was packed with small-time virtual streamers waiting in a restless crowd. Every single one of them shared the same hope: build a connection with the big-name streamers coming in. If luck was really on their side and the relationship lasted long-term, that would be the jackpot.
Standing four or five steps behind everyone else, I could read those thoughts as clearly as if they were written on their faces.
And then, at last, Mist logged in.
Rena-ttang jumped on the welcome greeting as if she had been waiting for exactly this moment, then asked Apple-mong to handle the basic orientation.
“Ah, no need. I’m already familiar with Minecraft.”
He hadn’t been bluffing. Mist finished his settings with practiced ease and started moving. Several virtual streamers who had been watching for their chance quietly fell in behind him.
A quick check showed Mist already sitting at four thousand concurrent viewers. In a single stroke, the main stream of Rena World had shifted.
Right after him, Haisu-ya and the rest of the new virtual residents appeared. Haisu-ya was pulling nearly three thousand viewers of his own. They clearly weren’t used to Minecraft yet, so they fell under Apple-mong’s guidance and began learning the basic settings and controls.
Watching them, I understood.
The fierce, wild competition had finally begun on this server too.
“Shouldn’t we go over too? It’d be nice to get friendly with the new people…”
“Nah, it’s fine. Let’s just keep doing what we’ve been doing. Natural is better. If fate wants us connected, it’ll happen on its own.”
I turned down Miho’s casual suggestion. Honestly, if it had been any other streamers I would have at least said hello, but neither of these two was someone I’d be seeing for long. Haisu-ya mostly stuck to LoL streams and would only dip a toe into Rena World before leaving, so there was nothing to gain by linking up. Mist would end up tangled in an ugly incident later, so there was zero reason to build any friendship at all.
“Yeah? All right. You’ve got your reasons.”
Our crew trusted me quite a bit. Even with a flood of new residents pouring in, they held their ground exactly as I’d said and stuck to their own work.
The only potential problem was the two people we’d recently brought on like subcontractors.
I called them over and asked straight out.
“Looking at the situation, more streamers are going to keep pouring in from here on. Anyone regretting this contract?”
I couldn’t take responsibility for their entire streaming careers, and if their hearts were already wandering elsewhere I was ready to let them go. Of course, I’d still collect a little “penalty fee” for the trouble.
“I’m good. I still have school, so this intern-style setup works for me. No pressure.”
Han A-yeon said it casually, but I remembered how she had powered through both the Wooga-dol audition and her studies with almost superhuman stamina. That was the raw vitality of someone in their early twenties, I supposed. Back when I was that age I could get by on three or four hours of sleep and still feel fine.
“Can I put mine on hold for now? I want to watch how things develop a little longer. Until I make up my mind I’ll keep working hard.”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
Han A-yeon was already a debt slave with no real freedom, while Subnitti had only been pulled in with a CK slot as bait for part-time work, so the leash on her was barely there. If she wanted more time to think, I had to respect that.
So, as a gesture of respect, I assigned her a twenty-four-hour hell schedule.
“Buildings for Hanamon-nim and Ranchu-nim finished by the day after tomorrow. Deal?”
“Huh? Wait, that’s—”
“In exchange, guaranteed CK participation rights.”
“Okay, deal!”
Negotiation complete.
If she was thinking of leaving, I was going to wring every last drop out of her until she was a dried-up squid—no moisture left whatsoever.
We split into a three-person building team and a three-person mining team and got moving. New residents or not, if we didn’t mine, the diamond-crazed chat would riot, so speed was essential.
All three of us carried endgame pickaxes—an invincible mining party. Han A-yeon’s was only rented, of course, but Efficiency worked the same either way.
“Everything nearby’s already been dug out. We’re going to have to go pretty far.”
“Yeah? Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Mayo and I swapped our armor pieces for wings. With elytra equipped, distance stopped being a problem.
The problem was that Han A-yeon didn’t have any wings.
I made the offer in my kindest voice.
“How about fifty thousand Rena a day for rental? Decide right now and I’ll throw in ten fireworks as a freebie!”
“Ugh… fine.”
She was starting to get used to my style. Good. Nothing in this world is free.
It made me look like a complete villain, but from Han A-yeon’s side the rental was still a massive win. The nearby diamonds were already bone-dry; people were spending twenty or thirty minutes just traveling by boat or rail. Cutting that travel time and putting it straight into mining was far more efficient. Fifty thousand Rena only equaled about ten diamonds anyway.
“Everyone ready? Shall we head out?”
“Ready!”
“Mayo wants to stop mining diamonds and go on an adventure, geosida.”
“You can go after you fill the three-hundred-diamond quota.”
“…Seo-a unnie is a demon, geosida.”
We were just about to take off when a voice cut in.
“Oh. You folks all have nice gear. Wings too.”
A male voice—rare in today’s Rena World. From inside the Pokémon Center, Mist’s character appeared at the head of a small group.
He’d been on the server for maybe ten minutes, yet he was already wearing diamond armor and a helmet, fully kitted out. I didn’t even need to look. The hangers-on trailing behind him had gifted everything.
Familiar faces brought up the rear: Dorai and Coco-nyang. A little disappointing, honestly. They had forgotten our good old memories so easily and latched onto the shiny new resident.
Knowing even a little about the future of Bad Potato Company and everyone tied to it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“By the way, could I get a pair of wings? I want to look around the village, but walking takes forever.”
He walked right up without the slightest hesitation, clearly assuming I would just hand them over.
So I answered with an equally friendly smile.
“No. I don’t have any.”
“…”
A cold silence swept over the entire area.