There Was No Justice
Seollal is, without question, the most iconic holiday of the Korean people.
You bow respectfully to the elders among your relatives, receive their well-wishes, and eat a steaming bowl of tteokguk. The highway traffic on the way down to the countryside can be a real stress-inducer, sure — but for me, the happy memories still outweighed the bad.
After all, the sweet thrill of New Year's money left far too deep an impression on a child's heart.
Of course, among Korean kids there floated a tragic legend: that most of it would be promptly seized by one's mother.
That New Year's money she promised to give back once I was all grown up… where did it go?
It remained an unsolved mystery to this day.
"Anyway, the important thing right now is that I want to offer a deep bow of gratitude to all my fans. That's why I put on this pretty hanbok and even strapped on a full-body tracker, isn't it? Oppas, thank you so much for last year — and please take care of me this year too."
Confirming the friendly mood in chat, I offered a women's full bow with freshly elegant posture and grace.
The fruit of ten solid minutes of practice from a YouTube video I'd dug up the night before.
If I'd habitually defaulted to the men's full bow, these mischievous bastards would never have let it slide.
Just look at them.
Already, nestled between the chats praising how graceful I looked, a faction was busy forcing the take that Seo-a ought to be doing the men's bow instead.
"……."
The fact that the ringleader of these forced-hate pests was the vice-chairman of my own channel was deeply, deeply irritating.
You little vice-chairman bastard! When the hell are you going to grow up?
I nearly flipped him the middle finger on instinct, barely restrained myself, and slapped him with a ten-minute chat ban instead.
Anyway — I'd given the full bow. Time to collect what was due.
I knelt back down with perfect manners and stretched a hand toward the camera.
"Oppas, give Seo-a her New Year's money! *wink!*"
Come on. You received a bow — you give New Year's money. Isn't that just basic?
The chat flooded over with variations on the word "lunatic."
Yes, yes — there was a brief disturbance. Seo-a's stream is perfectly safe, so rest easy!
With the playful opening wrapped up, I pulled out the content I'd prepared for today.
And what could that be, if not the traditional game no Korean holiday is complete without!
……Honestly, outside of childhood, I'd barely ever played it. As the years went on, family gatherings at the main house just got rarer and rarer.
Still, any Korean worth their salt at least knows how to play yutnori — and that was today's star of the show.
"When it comes to yutnori, it's gotta be Netmarble. Is there any warrior bold enough to challenge me, the reigning champion? For the record, back in the day I made a name for myself among the younger cousins with my yutnori skills."
"Of course, the world of competition is cold and unforgiving — nothing comes free! There's an entry fee of 100 Candies. But if a challenger wins, I'll rain down five chicken gift coupons on them and random viewers!"
The entry fee was a precaution against potential trolls. And also because if it were free, the flood of applicants would be unmanageable.
Honestly, 100 Candies wasn't a crushing amount anyway.
The moment I opened applications, seven hands shot up in an instant.
Ugh! And among them, naturally, was that ever-cheeky vice-chairman of mine.
Fine. Today I was going to give him a proper education via yutnori.
Vice-chairman, step up!
With chicken gift coupons on the line, the fans were cheering for the vice-chairman too.
Hmph! I couldn't care less about that kind of support.
An underdog's victory always hits that much sweeter, after all.
I jumped straight into the channel, opened a password-locked room, and waited for the vice-chairman to connect.
"……."
Cowards trying to shake my mental from the jump — a bunch of chicken-coupon slaves.
But after tasting the full spice of that shitty little company, this much was nothing to me.
Before long the vice-chairman connected, and we each fretted over which character to pick.
"I think Ttokttagi would suit the vice-chairman perfectly. I'd love to thump that head of his right— ah, my true feelings slipped out. My apologies."
A fierce war of nerves right from the start.
After a moment's thought, I picked the seductive nine-tailed fox character — Miho.
Wait. There's a character here with the exact same name as Miho unnie?
Even the gumiho setting was identical.
Honestly, the drama queens.
Like a mega-corp like Netmarble would spare a single thought for small-time indie streamers like us?
Worst case, she could just change her nickname to Miu or Mio and call it a day.
While I was bickering with chat, the vice-chairman locked in Meokku.
According to the character description, it was a gluttonous food spirit who'd taken first place in an eating contest. When I asked why he'd picked it, he confidently declared it was a broken OP character.
"Alright, let's begin. Looks like I go first."
I clicked the yut sticks clustered on the right side of the screen and adjusted the gauge.
A real man always goes full power.
In a match like this, confidence is everything!
"Let's gooooo!"
Clatter-rattle—!
The sticks carved cleanly through the air.
I was hoping for a Yut, or at least a Mo.
"……."
I shoved the irritating chat reactions behind me as the vice-chairman's first turn arrived!
Hmm. A little awkward.
If it'd been a Do or a Gae, he could've captured an opponent's piece and earned another throw. Still, it was early — no reason to hesitate.
I threw the yut again with full confidence.
"Ah, damn……."
This was getting dicey.
Sure enough, the vice-chairman rolled a Gae of his own, brought out a second piece, snapped up mine in one gulp, and earned another throw.
"……."
Watching the vice-chairman carry on like that, I could practically feel a vein bulging on my forehead without even realizing it.
Hoo. Calm down.
There was still plenty of game left.
This was a game where all four pieces had to cross the finish line to win, after all.
"Are you kidding me! This is rigged!"
He brought out a third piece, stacked two together with the Gae, then used the Mo to rocket them five spaces forward.
In the blink of an eye, three of the vice-chairman's pieces were on the board — and I still hadn't even left the starting gate.
"I don't even know anymore!"
But I refused to fold.
No matter how dire the situation, if you never give up and keep fighting to the end, a path will always open.
"Finally! You empty-headed vice-chairman, enjoying yourself so far? If I get a Geol here, you're finished!"
Because I'd rolled a Yut, I got another throw.
A Geol here would capture those two stacked pieces he'd advanced with the Gae and Mo — and the whole tide of the match would flip in an instant.
"Hoo… hoo!"
Why was I this tense over something like this?
Stay calm…… and believe in yourself.
"The me who believes in me is the strongest!"
O Rumble, top-lane champion though you may be — lend me your strength just for today!
Clatter-rattle—!
A lively sound effect, and the sticks unfurled across the board.
My eyes shot to the result faster than anyone else's.
One, two, three…… three sticks lay belly-up toward the sky.
That was a Geol.
I— I actually did it.
So justice does triumph after all?
And in that exact instant, just as I was about to let out a victory cry—
A system message coldly blocked my vision.
"……."
The fourth stick, hidden behind my excitement, the one I hadn't checked in time.
It had fallen clean off the board.
"Whyyyyyyyyyy!"
There was no justice.