Streaming (3)

"…So this is what we made in a single day?"

Even as the words left my mouth, I could hardly believe them.

"Three million won…."

Granted, considering the broadcast had been boosted by the massive promotion of a Link-wide alert, it wasn't an outrageous sum. But pulling in donations of this size in barely an hour of streaming was more than encouraging.

And above all.

The real record-breaker was this.

The peak viewer count had broken seventy-three thousand. Even better, almost none of the viewers who'd flooded in from the initial alert had dropped off.

"We've got the buzz factor locked down, that's for sure."

Which meant this test broadcast had baited the hook exactly as intended. Right after signing the contract with Gong Gi-hyun, the very first development order I'd given him was for this technology.

Dungeon Streaming.

Exactly what it sounded like — broadcasting the world inside a gate in real time. Hearing it described, it sounded an order of magnitude harder than simple recording and playback.

But the core of the technology was already perfected.

Cheonseong had attempted and researched it ages ago. Though when the Re Project ended in complete failure, the whole thing died in theory without ever reaching the testing stage.

"But this time is different."

The Camcorder had become Cheonseong's technology, and building the streaming apparatus on top of that foundation had been quick work.

A hologram that looked like a hunter's status window. That was Dungeon Streaming for you. Since only hunters could use it, they'd apparently designed it in the most hunter-familiar form possible.

"…Couldn't care less about that part."

From now on, this system would let far more people casually witness what went on inside gates. Even when Mutation Gates started appearing and the world descended into chaos down the line, if the general public had more information banked in advance, education and preparation would come that much easier.

"Well, that's just the excuse."

The real purpose was something else entirely.

"They won't want to just keep watching me, will they."

Those bastards — the ones who had cursed my death, the ones presumed to be connected to the Monarch. They probably weren't thrilled about my recent activities. If they had been, they wouldn't have tried to kill me in the first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠place.

Once I've made enough noise with this and that, they'll have to make a move.

In my past life, I'd shut myself in my room after that incident. But this time, I was moving constantly.

I don't know who they are or what they want. But one thing was certain — they wouldn't enjoy watching me run my mouth and stomp around like this. To catch a rat, you have to set out the cheese.

If I kept up this streak of activity, they'd come creeping back soon enough.

"And when they do, I'll wring every last secret out of them."

Whatever approach they took, as long as I was prepared, I'd be fine. And that preparation, naturally, meant—

"Growth."

Break time was over. I rose from my seat and picked the spear back up.

About three days remained until the B-Rank Gate attempt, and I was spending them clearing E and D-Rank gates. From B-Rank on up, you needed to meet certain conditions before the raid permit would be issued.

Ten or more E-Rank gates, five or more D-Rank gates, one or more C-Rank gates.

The C-Rank condition was already filled; only the E and D-Rank counts remained. Since the Hunter Bureau co-administered these requirements, they could technically be bent a little — but I'd rather not get caught in a bind later. A man should live honestly. Give them a thread to pull, and who knows what they'd unravel. I'd been dragged through the mud over dug-up pasts more times than I could count, so I was meticulous about this sort of thing.

"Let's see… so you're the boss around here?"

In the heart of a blue-green forest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stood a throne carved from wood. Upon it sat a red-skinned monster with regal gravity.

Orcs were the regulars of any low-rank gate, and this was their boss variant, the Orc Great Warrior.

"You ugly bastards. I've seen your faces so often we're practically family now."

"GRAAAAGH!"

"Yeah, yeah. I killed every one of your underlings. I know."

Maybe he'd caught the scent of orc blood on me, because his muscles swelled in an instant as he dropped into a battle stance.

Thoom! CRASH!

The Orc Great Warrior kicked off the ground and charged. In a single breath, the distance between us shrank to two steps.

WHUMP!

A massive club came swinging in from the right.

"Oh ho."

I didn't bother dodging. I simply raised my hand into a guard position. Tanking a hit head-on — sheer madness unless you had a defense skill or were a strength-specialized hunter.

"Stings a little."

"G-GWUH?!"

But I was a bit special. The moment the club touched my arm, it split clean in half.

Stacked with all the stats I'd earned lately, plus the Steel Bones trait, an attack like this didn't even leave a scratch.

"Graaah…!"

"You shouldn't let your guard down."

Cha!

The spearpoint shot toward the Orc Great Warrior's chest.

BOOM!

Like a popped balloon, his entire upper torso exploded. An instant death that left no room for argument.

"Whew."

That made five D-Rank gates cleared. I'd hit the minimum requirements for a B-Rank raid permit exactly.

"Now I can relax for a bit."

My mood lightened, I lifted my head — and froze.

"…Hm?"

A single book sat near the throne. That thickness. That size. A feeling suspiciously familiar—

"A skill book!"

I sprinted over and snatched the thing up.

D-Rank or not, given how rare it was to find a skill book at all, I'd take it gratefully. And Orc's Roar was a pretty decent D-Rank skill, at that.

"If I remember right, it temporarily boosts attack power by 10% and draws monster aggro, doesn't it?"

A classic frontline warrior ability. It wasn't bad, exactly — it just made for lousy efficiency in my hands. Skills like this shone in party play, which clashed catastrophically with my solo-only style.

"…In that case."

I'd just feed it to her. I opened my subspace and pulled out an elegantly crafted box.

Mimic of Truth (EX)

"Here you go~ Eat up. Eat."

When I waved the skill book gently in front of the box, its opening began to wriggle and stir.

"Sniff sniff sniff…."

"That's right. This one's tasty."

Smack, smack.

A pink tongue popped out of the gap and smacked its lips a few times — and then, in one gulp, the box snatched the skill book and dragged it inside.

"Nom nom nom!"

"My, what an appetite."

Watching her enjoy her meal made my heart go warm for no good reason.

"Ooooh."

The mimic had successfully devoured the skill. Two more D-Rank skill books and she'd be guaranteed a C-Rank skill. Repeat the process a few more times after that—

"And I'll be mass-producing S-Rank skills."

Production of high-rank skills that no national budget, no oil money, had ever managed. And this little mimic was the key to that dream technology.

"Aren't you just the prettiest thing!"

"Urrrp."

I gave the burping mimic a few satisfied pats and tucked her back into subspace. An unexpected windfall. With a light step, I walked back out of the gate.

"Oh! Lee Tae-hyun's out!"

"Snap it, snap it!"

"Could we get a word?!"

In an instant, the area in front of me blazed white as if a flashbang had gone off.

"What the hell."

"Any words on your upcoming B-Rank Gate challenge?!"

"Just a comment on Hunter Kim Nam-hyun's remarks!"

"The entire world is watching Hunter Lee Tae-hyun's unprecedented rise! Are you considering joining any guild?!"

A horde of reporters had packed themselves solid in front of the gate.

Seriously?

This wasn't an S-Rank gate or an 'Unmeasurable Rank' gate. A crowd this size in front of a measly D-Rank gate — that was a first.

How do they even know where I am?

reporters' ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tricks were obvious enough. Still, showing up in droves like this felt like overkill.

"No comment."

I deliberately plowed forward, brushing past their questions. Nothing stokes a story like reporters, granted — but they were a pain in the ass. Holding press conferences and doing interviews every time I sneezed? Not my idea of a good time. And reporters couldn't be trusted anyway: they'd twist whatever you said into whatever suited them, print it, and shove ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the responsibility off onto someone else. That was the whole reason I'd made this matter public through Link in the first place.

"Just one word, please!"

"Get off, will you?"

"How does it feel to be writing a new chapter of history…!"

"What freeze-to-death history? History my ass."

Somehow the outside of the gate felt more chaotic than the inside had. Maybe I really did need to hire a security detail. I was gritting my teeth, shoving my way through the mob of reporters, when—

"…You really were here."

A strangely melodious voice reached my ears.

"Long time no see, Tae-hyun."

Looking ahead, I found a handsome man staring coolly back at me. Gleaming blond hair, blue eyes — a beauty brimming with exotic charm.

"Have you been well?"

"Uh, hm…."

"What's wrong? You didn't expect me to come find you, did you? Hohoho, if that's the case, I'm terribly sorry, but…."

"Who are you?"

"…I beg your pardon?"

But really, who was this guy? Something about him itched at my memory, but it wouldn't come into focus.

"Y-You're joking, right…?"

The handsome man's eyes twitched as he asked again.

"Really sorry, but I don't remember."

"…."

"Are you an idol? An actor? Someone from Cheonseong Ent, maybe…?"

Just as I was still racking my brain—

"HUH?!"

A shout erupted from among the reporters.

"Th-That's—!"

"Isn't that Yoo Sung-wook?"

"It's Yoo Sung-wook!"

Yoo Sung-wook?

"Oh."

The name jogged my memory. Reading the look on my face, Yoo Sung-wook put on a confident smile.

"That's right. I'm that very Yoo Sung—"

"You're the bastard whose skull I cracked open!"

Before my awakening, at the year-end party I'd been invited to, I'd smashed his head in with my own two hands. It was such an old and trivial memory that I'd lived my life blithely forgetting it.

"Yeah. That's the face, all right."

"…Glad it came back to you."

Yoo Sung-wook's jaw clenched tight.

"So what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, of course."

He came to see me. The reporters' attention snapped to us like iron filings to a magnet.

"Yoo Sung-wook and Lee Tae-hyun…?!"

"This is an exclusive!"

Click, click, click.

Shutters rattled obnoxiously. Where I furrowed my brow in annoyance, Yoo Sung-wook wore a face of pure satisfaction, basking in every gaze. Like a celebrity strolling down a red carpet, he held his angles to perfection and didn't forget to look straight into the cameras either.

Good grief.

Was I really expected to keep watching this sideshow?

"To see me? You?"

"Yes. Ever since 'that incident,' we've never even had a proper conversation, have we?"

"'That incident'? You mean when I cracked your head open?"

"…Yes. That."

Yoo Sung-wook brought a finger delicately to the corner of his eye in mock sorrow.

"Everything I said back then, I said for your sake, Tae-hyun. I never dreamed it would hurt you so…."

He sniffled theatrically and extended a gentle, conciliatory hand.

"Let's make up, shall we? We both had our faults. Let's bury the past and—"

"Uh-huh. Sure."

Ugh, gross. I couldn't stand another second of it. I walked straight past him.

"Do whatever you like. But—"

Honestly, I couldn't care less. I had more than enough on my plate without babysitting that parasitic leech of a man. If there was one thing I was mildly curious about, though—

"If you want to bury the hatchet, do it somewhere private, yeah?"

"…Gghk!"

Coming all the way out here, in front of a swarm of reporters, to extend the hand of reconciliation? The sheer brazenness of it. If you're going to use me, you'd better be a hell of a lot smarter about it.

"Your acting is so transparent my face is going red on your behalf."

"Good luck out there."

After tossing him that brief bit of advice, I bolted without so much as a glance backward.

"Hey! Hey! Follow him!"

"Don't let him get away, he's got more to say!"

"Every single word out of that man is headline gold!"

Because the damned reporters were already charging after me in a stampede.

Do I truly have no human rights whatsoever?

Somehow, I felt like crying.