Enemies Meet on a Narrow Bridge
January 10th, Tuesday.
Seona Land finally opened for real.
The reaction, though, was far quieter than anyone had hoped. A full month already separated it from Rena World, and a huge chunk of the floating audience had sunk deep into that other server and simply never come back up for air.
Having Jamst join from day one would have helped, but his schedule was packed solid—no free slots anywhere. Yu Seona was in no position to lean on him. She could push a little harder with Ssa-yo, yet he, too, had something genuinely critical on his plate.
The Freeca additional-member audition.
January 11th, Wednesday.
They say sequels never catch the original. That rule applied almost perfectly to Freeca’s follow-up audition.
The original Wooga-dol audition had peaked at twenty thousand concurrent viewers. This one was gutted to roughly half that. Virtual streamers’ attention had scattered across Rena World and a dozen other places, and Freeca’s notoriously closed-door management style gave casual viewers almost nothing to latch onto.
Ssa-yo’s core strategy—another shot at overseas YouTube success—felt like it was heading for the same quiet failure it had suffered in my previous life. A virtual-idol concept cracking YouTube? Easier said than done.
Still, the audition itself marched forward without drama. Passes and cuts were handed out, and the second preliminary round was announced for the 14th.
January 12th, Thursday.
Two new residents arrived in Rena World. After months of criticism that the server had been too virtual-streamer-heavy, the admins finally brought in a pair of human streamers: Park Na-nim and GammanTok.
Park Na-nim was a female PUBG streamer whose skill stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Su-ppi, so she slid naturally into O-Wang Company. Together with the former pro they had already drafted via recommendation ticket—SexyPig—O-Wang finally fielded a genuinely terrifying roster.
GammanTok was a completely different breed. He had made his name as a Minecraft architecture YouTuber; once Rena World exploded on Pangea TV he started running live streams alongside the videos, looking for a fresh challenge. If the people currently considered “pretty good builders” inside Rena World were still amateur-tier, GammanTok was pure professional. Multiple companies were already eyeing him. He himself, however, preferred free-range building so he could farm YouTube content, and for now he was staying unaffiliated.
January 13th, Friday.
Seona Land dropped a second-wave resident recruitment notice that was almost deliberately flashy. While Rena World was still taking two people a week, Seona Land planned to add nearly thirty more at once. At that pace the two servers would be roughly even by the time the third wave arrived—and after that, the lead would flip.
Capital really was king. With server costs bankrolled without blinking, they could swallow that many players overnight and still never see a single lag spike.
That same day I got two Discord pings from Rena-ttang. Yu Seona’s pressure was clearly grinding her down. I would have appreciated a little sympathy for the stress I was under, but apparently that was too much to ask.
While the calendar sprinted past us, our company kept grinding steadily. For the time being we treated mining like a daily quest—three or four hours each, no more. The rest of the day was free. Landmark construction would start in earnest next week; there was no point turning ourselves into kimchi with overwork beforehand.
I myself hadn’t taken a single day off. Fatigue was stacking up—aches everywhere, and a persistent itch in my throat. Once the sky-island build was finished I planned to force a rotating rest day for everyone, myself included. Riding a hot streak mattered, but nothing outranked health.
Landmark construction funding day is the day after tomorrow already. Time really does fly.
That day would be a major watershed for the company’s future. First, though, I had to show up tomorrow for the Do-zney Castle completion celebration concert. Nearly the entire Lethal Company roster was performing, and they were taking spontaneous audience volunteers, so the whole thing would easily fill two hours. For once I could sit back, watch, and actually rest. After being cooped up in V-City for so long, I was looking forward to seeing some familiar faces again.
“…….”
“…….”
Familiar faces, sure. Welcome ones? Not even close.
In a situation like this you say it the old way: enemies meet on a narrow bridge.
Anyone with half a brain already knows who was standing in front of me. Blueby—irritation incarnate.
I had arrived early hoping to trade a few greetings with the Lethal Company streamers. I had not expected a trap.
“I heard you joined Partner Company. Doing well?”
“Ah, yes. I get updates about you from Lucy now and then, Seo-a.”
Viewers were watching. Showing open dislike was not an option. Communities could spin an entire fanfic novel out of a single awkward glance; there was no need to hand them free ammunition. Personal feelings were personal feelings. As long as I was making money at this, I was a professional broadcaster. Masks were part of the job.
Blueby was just as practiced. A flicker of surprise, then the smooth, everyday smile snapped back into place.
“Well, I’m a bit busy, so I’ll—”
“Ah! I really was grateful back then.”
I had zero intention of stretching the conversation. I had already spotted Seol Pyo-woo in the distance and was about to use her as an exit. Blueby cut in with perfect timing. I froze, forced to parse the real meaning under the words.
“Back then…?”
“The Poco Server. Lucy told me a lot of nice things about you.”
“……!”
Had she figured it out? That the whole thing had been a trap I dug?
I bit down hard on my lower lip to keep any tremor out of my voice. Was she fishing for a reaction, or was she already certain?
“I did go through a little ‘hardship,’ but we still took first place, so I’m trying to treat it as a good life experience. There was prize money, too. More than that—if you had joined the Poco Server as well, Seo-a, I think it would have been a really good match. Kind of a shame, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. But I was completely swamped with Rena World at the time. Still am, honestly.”
“This is late to say it, but I’d really like to have a proper, honest talk with you someday. We even share Lucy as a common denominator. I’d love to set something up.”
“……I’ll reach out sometime.”
“Oh, would you? Then I’ll be waiting. Really.”
We both kept the bright, smiling masks on as we drifted apart.
Blueby. Not an easy opponent at all.
People have instincts. No matter how I looked at it, dealing with her made the idea that she was the same age as Lucy feel impossible. Even in my previous life I had felt that same wrongness—too polished, too experienced in every direction for someone supposedly Lucy’s peer.
And the new information from this life only sharpened the doubt. No matter how many times I turned it over, her short broadcasting career simply did not add up. How could someone who debuted later than Lucy already operate at that level? Even calling her a streaming genius did not cover the gap.
Combine those two suspicions and only one conclusion remains.
I had chewed on this before. Every time, the answer came out the same: Blueby was hiding a great deal—her age, her real broadcasting history, probably more.
Looking back, she kept a lot of secrets even in the previous timeline.
Streamers slip up. A real name or a hometown leaks during a shopping stream when membership info flashes on screen; a phone number or address gets exposed by accident. Blueby never had those moments. She was airtight.
Crew life usually produces little scraps of personal talk from other members. With Blueby, almost nothing ever slipped out.
In the last life I had thought I knew her reasonably well. Pure delusion. What did the real Blueby even look like?
I need to dig more carefully. A beast that keeps its claws hidden is the most dangerous kind.
Until now I had sidelined the question because the bet with Ju-ttak—succeeding as virtual streamers together with Lucy—took priority. But once the other side starts moving first, standing still is no longer an option.
I only came here for a little healing for once…
Seol Pyo-woo caught my eye from afar and waved. I waved back, a bitter smile already on my face.