You Know, Right?
Our secret operation was simple, and it was airtight.
While every company's combat personnel tore into each other on the grand plaza for Purge Day, we would hit their headquarters.
Ah—and by "hit," I don't mean smashing buildings or massacring whoever was left behind. Nothing physical like that.
What we were after was pure terrorism.
Not structural damage—an assault on each company's pride.
Everyone took to the sky and scattered toward their assigned targets, and I headed straight for Mu-yang Group myself.
They still hadn't started their Landmark construction, so Mu-yang Group was still running out of a traditional Korean hanok village. When I arrived, a single person stood there trembling, staring my way.
"Hello is so. I am Ami-chan is so. This is Mu-yang Group headquarters, so you mustn't just walk in is so."
Shrring—!
"Eek! You can come in is so. You're very welcome is so."
A Netherite sword always knows the right answer.
Leaving the shaking Ami-chan behind, I made my way toward Gyeonghoeru Pavilion—the masterpiece of the entire hanok village. Whether she was trying to keep an eye on me or just couldn't help herself, Ami-chan trailed after me.
"Whew. This is actually gorgeous."
The interior was so meticulously built it felt like standing inside a real Joseon-era structure. And the elevated seat at the very back genuinely looked like a throne—especially with the way it blended into the patterned folding screen behind it.
Without a word, I opened my inventory right in front of it.
Most of the viewers who checked my inventory had already figured out today's secret operation. This is exactly why sharp-eyed viewers are… well. No further explanation needed.
I flipped through the image pictures for a moment, then—deciding a strong opening impact was everything—picked my ace, the first one.
Installation was simple. Pull the image picture out of the inventory, carry it to the placement spot, and just set it down. Done.
"Eh? Uegh!"
Ami-chan, still trailing behind me, recoiled in horror at the image picture that had completely replaced the folding screen behind the throne. And of course she did—because right there, in full display, was Park Bong-sik pursing those thick lips that looked exactly like spicy pollack roe and planting a kiss on Wang-ko's cheek.
"Aaaah! M-my eyes are rotting is so. This is ocular terrorism is so. If I leave this up, the Chairman is going to absolutely destroy me is so."
Ami-chan scrambled over and tried to tear the image picture down, but justice—in the form of a Netherite sword—stood at my side. Sure, Ami-chan had Netherite gear too, but she was non-combat staff, short on confidence, and above all completely bare of combat consumables like potions. In the end, all she could do was stand there blankly and watch me continue the terrorism.
"Hmm. This one'll work nicely here."
On a big, highly visible pillar, I hung a photo of Park Bong-sik in a ballet leotard. On Gyeonghoeru's name plaque, I mounted a shot of Rim-ani bawling so hard her makeup had run and turned her eyes into a panda's.
Ami-chan kept trailing after me, channeling a full K-female-cop possession as she chanted "What do I do, what do I do" nonstop—until she finally started reporting the reality of the terrorism over company chat.
Rim-ani, who'd been half-listening at first, jolted in pure panic and started barking orders at Ami-chan. But what power did Ami-chan even have? She was helplessly watching from the sidelines in front of V-Live Company's army of one million—also known as Seo-a.
In the meantime I pushed past Gyeonghoeru and kept the terrorism going on the freestanding houses that sat front and center on either side of the lake. Wave after wave of Mu-yang Group streamers' black-history photos kept pouring out, and the viewers could not stop howling.
And that wasn't all. In an instant, community buzz stopped caring about the grand plaza battle results and got completely hijacked by our company's live terrorism spree.
It wasn't just me—the other members had been hard at work too. On the outer wall of Do-zney Castle's highest spire hung a Do-poleon image picture, Kim Hak-do's face photoshopped onto Napoleon on horseback. At the entrance to O-Wang Company's White House, Wang-ko glared out in full pigtail crossdress. Seoni Moon wasn't spared either. Front and center on the golden palace courtyard of the still-under-construction Seoni Mahal, a main-feature image of Aengdu awkwardly bending forward and sweeping a hand down her leg in a "sexy" pose took pride of place. And on Akatsuki's Hannam Statue, Oh Yeong-jun had been mounted staring straight ahead with his glasses off, wearing a fatally (?) intense expression.
No matter how important winning Purge Day was, once your company's pride was getting stomped in real time, you couldn't just keep fighting. Even if you put on a god-tier control showcase, the viewers' attention was already glued to the headquarters under attack—so the hype dried up, and the streamers' morale naturally tanked with it.
Should I praise them for reacting fast? The response is better than I expected.
I'd originally figured we could enjoy about thirty minutes of chaos. Still—might as well finish the job.
I laid down blocks in the hanok village courtyard and completed the message I'd been writing. Then I affectionately (?) persuaded the nearby Ami-chan.
"You're not going to touch this, right? Just looking at it, this is peak comedy stream material. If you mess with it…"
Shrring—!
"Ah, Ami-chan saw nothing is so. Huh? Looks like there's an intruder inside Gyeonghoeru is so. Ami-chan has no idea what happened in the courtyard is so."
Watching Ami-chan scurry off into Gyeonghoeru, I smiled in satisfaction and opened company chat.
Personnel from every company came charging in with terrifying momentum, furious at having the starring role of today's Purge Day stolen out from under them. But we'd already mapped out the optimal escape routes while planning today's operation. There was no way people impulsively chasing us on the word of some random cuckoo viewer were going to catch us.
We all casually shook them off and assembled on Sky Island.
Right on cue—apparently they'd found the block message I'd built in the hanok village courtyard—Park Bong-sik's global chat rang out with vicious force.
YAAAAAH! Where are you. Get out here right now! 1v1 me. I'm not letting this go! What? You're calling me a Silver local?!
As a former pro gamer with real pride in his mechanical skill, Park Bong-sik had no choice but to react that violently to the message. And on top of that, he'd seen all those black-history memes hanging huge against the backdrop of Gyeonghoeru and the lake—of course he couldn't take it.
For me, it was pure gold. The more vivid a streamer's reaction, the more the viewers ate it up. Just look at the proof: my viewer count, which had been sitting around 1,800 when Purge Day started, had already climbed to 4,200.
The content we'd planned for today was landing clean.
Confidence clung to me in thick layers. Riding that high, I fired back a short global chat of my own.
Somewhere out there, I could almost hear Park Bong-sik's unholy scream.