Establishing the Hierarchy
1. Rena Government.
A civil-service collective centered on server admin Rena-ttang, handling server infrastructure construction, tax-related duties, and more.
[Rena-ttang, Apple-mong, Anjeo, Mangorang, Riochi]
2. Lethal Company.
Founded when big-name streamer Kim Hak-do took over as chairman and acquired the former Milk Company.
As a result, most members are ex-Milk Company alumni.
They inherit Milk Company's original goal: building the server's largest structure, Disney Castle.
[Kim Hak-do, Elsa, Seol Pyo-woo, Baiyo, Ranchu, Binming, Hanaringu, Ju2, Ichirin]
3. Bad Potato Company.
A building and adventurer collective headed by partner streamer Mist as CEO.
Tteu3 is listed as a director, and photos of Mist and Tteu3 plastered all over the company building give it a fan-club vibe.
[Mist (X), Tteu3, Dorai, Coco-nyang, Ryuseori, Choheechohee, Ppogeum, Han Sebin]
4. Partner Company.
Personnel recruited by partner streamer Dananyang after she entered the server with plans to build Hanok Village.
Famous for excellent welfare benefits: KakaoTalk room invites, chicken gift cards, stream promotion, and more.
[Dananyang, Hitsume, Endu, Ami-chan, Seulseulseul]
5. V-Live Company.
A company formed around the virtual streamer crew V-Live.
Home to Seo-a and Mayo, winners of Purge Day rounds 1 and 2, and widely regarded as a company packing both combat power and wealth.
Notorious for a work intensity that would make even the devil cry.
[Seo-a, Lucy, Miho, Mayo, Han A-yeon, Subnitti]
6. Oh-ha Company.
A general-purpose company founded by Oh-ha, a former professional PUBG player.
Main business is construction commissions and material sales, though they don't shy away from errand-center work either.
Primary client is Lethal Company — the relationship runs deep enough that they handle material supply and labor contracts exclusively.
[Oh-ha, Rinka, Kaang, Yeonsei]
That's the summary for now — drop a comment if anything's missing!
Planning to update every 2–3 days.
There's a surprising amount of solid free agents — people like Muyo, Park Na-na, Oh Yeong-jun still don't have a company
"Finally……."
Late afternoon on the day I'd coldly shut Tu-nyang-i down.
Word broke that Park Bong-sik — the man called the "King" of Pangea TV — was logging into Rena World.
The community lost its mind.
First to rear their heads were Park Bong-sik's fans, noses held high and chests puffed out.
Kim Hak-do of all people dares to waltz in first and play emperor?
They'd already been seething at the way Kim Hak-do's fandom and the virtual-streamer fans had been teaming up lately to flood the boards with popular posts. And now Park Bong-sik was dipping into Rena World?
He could crush Kim Hak-do's buzz in a single stroke.
The virtual-streamer fans cheered too.
Whatever underground war the two big-name fandoms were waging was none of their business. The moment Park Bong-sik stepped in, Rena World would lock down the mainstream spotlight on Pangea TV.
And the standing of every virtual streamer sharing that stage would rise right along with it.
If they no longer had to get snubbed by fans of the platform's mainstay human streamers?!
A real hope would bloom across Pangea TV's virtual scene.
And that's exactly what happened. After Rena World, the rejection of virtual streamers basically vanished.
A future for Pangea TV that no one in 2022 could have imagined.
Virtual streamers thriving on this boomer platform where StarCraft, League, and PUBG had monopolized the top of the charts 365 days a year?
It actually came true.
Yeah. The virtual scene opens up. But that means I have to be even more careful.
I thought back to the morning.
The way I'd cut Tu-nyang-i off without hesitation. My blade-sharp attitude left her no room to cling, and she cleared out fast.
I hadn't put on that show for nothing.
Fortune brings misfortune — the boom of the virtual scene came with no small number of side effects.
Once virtual streaming got trendy, every random nobody started debuting as a virtual streamer. They'd snag free avatars off the ground, slap on garbage-tier gear, and start farming aggro under the virtual label.
Those types had tanked the public image of virtual streamers more than once or twice.
There was even a stretch where a virtual streamer got caught faking their tier in a CK match, and community sentiment turned vicious. You can't trust anyone who hides their face — the boards filled with posts demanding they be shunned the same way no-cam streamers once were.
It got cleaned up luckily enough, but for virtual fans, 2023 felt like watching someone walk a tightrope the whole year. There were just that many incidents and scandals tied to virtual streamers. And every time, you had to sit through the snide posts that flooded the community.
The higher you climb, the more careful you have to be. That's just how many eyes are watching.
That was why I'd shut Tu-nyang-i down on the spot.
So that when the X-ray scandal eventually blew up, I wouldn't catch even a shred of suspicion.
Of course, being human, I did entertain the fantasy for a second.
She was bragging about how much money she had — what if I sweet-talked her into buying the V-Live Company headquarters? Wouldn't that work out fine?
But I shook my head and wiped the idea away.
Don't be penny-wise and pound-foolish. The best way to handle risk is to keep it far away in the first place.
Besides, even without a rushed sale, the building had plenty of other uses.
And I just got a pretty good idea, actually.
It might even become a chance to flaunt my scale in front of a big-name streamer's fans.
For now I needed to polish the idea a little cleaner — I'd wrap it up once the stream was over.
"Ahem! Every time I step away for one second, you people start saying the weirdest things. Don't slander me. Idols don't go to places like the bathroom, okay? Hmph! Unbelievable, really."
After delivering judgment on the weirdos spouting nonsense, I used a Rena Coin to return to Taecho Village.
Since yesterday, a daily-mission NPC had appeared to the right of the fountain, and the rewards for clearing those missions were deliciously sweet. For any resident of Rena World, it was one of those daily tasks you simply couldn't skip.
Starting this week, each company must not forget to pay the taxes assigned to them. Tax payment can be processed at the Rena Government building. Companies that fall behind on tax payments will be subject to fines, so please take note.
Rena-ttang's world message rang out at that exact moment.
As the server grew, she was showing even more drive. The head tax was one piece of that strategy. Keep people spending currency, and they'd keep logging in to earn money and burn time.
Unaffiliated solo players had to pay 50,000 Rena in weekly taxes; company members paid 100,000 Rena each. And if a company exceeded ten members, a special tax kicked in — like the luxury tax in Major League Baseball.
According to Rena-ttang, the policy was to stop any company from growing so massive that a handful of factions could unilaterally shake the server's order. From where I stood, though, it was just another pretext to burn through currency faster.
Rena-ttang's obsession with this server was genuinely terrifying. Terrifying.
"Ah! Muyo, it's the villain! The villain! Don't go near her!"
"……?"
A familiar voice drifted over from somewhere. I tilted my head, circled the fountain a little, and found the source.
"Wow! Uncle Yeong-jun, long time no see. You've been well lately, right?"
"Hmph! I'm not the pushover I used to be, you devil! I've geared up a bit myself, and more importantly — I've got Muyo. Muyo ranks in the top five on this whole server. Muyo, do it!"
"Uh…… Seo-a-nim is actually ranked number one on the server, though."
Muyo's carefully delivered line, after a sidelong glance for cues, deflated the swaggering Oh Yeong-jun on the spot.
I crooked my index finger and spoke softly.
"Come here, our little Yeong-jun~"
"……."
The hierarchy had been established in an instant.