Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: I Won!
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I did start streaming in hopes of donations.
But even so, I hadn't asked for this much money.
Well, of course not.
I'd only planned to skim a little off the top from other people's cash—nothing so ruthless that it'd wreck their lives.
Money like this, enough to upend someone's entire life, is too hard to accept.
It might sound ridiculous.
Me, of all people—the one who spearheaded the invasion, who sought to drown this world in agony—saying something like that.
But it was sincere.
I furrowed my brow and glared at the 200,000-won donation amount.
It was only day three of streaming, but I could already tell I needed some rules.
"From now on, I shall amend the laws. Heed them well."
-Suddenly?
-Making chat rules sound so damn formal
-Now that there's a manager, yeah, we need proper rules
"Slander against me? Unless it's extremely vicious, I'll let it slide."
Stuff like 'crazy' or 'damned.'
Too mild to count as real curses, but too iffy to dismiss entirely—I'll overlook those.
I can handle that much, surely.
Truth be told, even the insults they call 'crossing the line' barely faze me. But the chat explodes anyway, separate from any hurt I feel, so yeah, I need to block those.
I glanced at Madness.
She'd been faithfully handling her manager duties by policing the chat, but her grip was a tad too tight. This was me telling her to loosen up.
"However, demands for my body or severe sexual harassment? Permanent exile from this room."
That's unchanged.
I can take it. This body can't.
Dare serious words or deeds against this flesh? No mercy. Behave yourselves.
"And,"
Now it was time to explain why I was suddenly laying down rules.
100,000 won. 200,000 won.
Staring at these absurd sums honestly stirred my greed.
But there was a problem.
I wanted to snatch it up, but this body said no—couldn't accept it.
One body, one set of memories and one spirit, clashing and splitting apart at the sight of that fortune. My head throbbed like it was cleaving in two.
I could've crushed Ida Yeon's memories and bent them to my will, sure.
But those memories turned out tougher than expected.
I had no clue why scraps of memory from a dead mind—mere residue clinging to this flesh—could match the might of my spirit, the Demon Realm's sovereign.
But if this kept happening, the friction would repeat.
And no good could come from such clashes.
So I was adjusting things upfront to ensure it never happened again.
"From now on, maximum donation: 50,000 won."
This much, and Ida Yeon's memories wouldn't complain.
50,000 won was still enough to make my hands shake, but her memories seemed fine with it—friction ceased.
What the hell was the cutoff, anyway?
No to 100,000, but half that was okay?
Couldn't make sense of it, but at least it worked.
My declaration flooded the chat with question marks, but a game had queued up.
Player matches unlock at account level 10, so naturally, bots.
-Seen min donations before, but max cap? First time
-Why's she sweating bullets?
-You okay? You look sick
It hurt like hell—the backlash from Ida Yeon's memories battling mine manifesting as pain.
A vicious agony, like needles jabbing my brain over and over.
This was the first time the body's lingering memories had rebelled against me so openly.
Even when I seized this body to survive, replacing her vanished spirit, those memories had welcomed me naturally.
And now, over 100,000 won?
I grimaced and wiped the cold sweat beading on my forehead with the back of my hand.
Frustrating that I couldn't just ask why—memories aren't a spirit you can talk to.
I'd need to dig deep into what these memories held later.
"Over 50,000 won, and this body seems to reject it. That's why this rule—commit it to memory and keep watching my stream."
The pain had stopped the instant the friction ended, but it had been so horrific that my body shuddered once.
"This... pain, this irritation—all of it, I'll unleash on my foes. Behold my overwhelming might..."
The game launched into loading... then crashed.
"Ah, damn it."
-What?
-It crashed
-?????????
-Why'd LoL crash?
"Why the fuss? It happens all the time."
I shrugged. Yesterday, I'd played three games, but the actual number of times the game itself had launched? Over six.
50/50 odds.
"Wait just a moment. Yesterday it was 50/50, so the next one should run fine."
Wait, no.
Even as I said it, something felt off—like I'd forgotten. Finger to my lips, I tilted my head.
Staring at the camera, slipping into that cutesy pose I'd grown used to, I puzzled it out.
"With the stream running, there's extra load on the PC. Odds just got worse."
Streaming alone taxes the computer.
The game taxes it more.
Together? Way too much for my rig, sadly. It just wasn't tough enough.
Last time with the prison escape? That game was lightweight enough.
This was the real deal.
-What kinda piece-of-shit PC is that
-Can't even run a game from 16 years ago?
"My computer..."
This was one of those 'unimportant' memories I'd skimmed over without much thought—fuzzy now.
To adapt fast to this world, I'd glanced at trivial stuff once and looped the vital bits multiple times. Hence the gaps.
But luckily, I dredged one hazy recollection from the fog.
"About three years ago, I threw a fit wanting a PC, so Sister got one from a shuttered internet cafe."
That memory lingered faintly.
From before I took this body.
-Didn't know you're not supposed to buy PCs from closed cafes?
-So fucking dumb
-But why'd sis buy it, not parents?
"Hmm, must be a new viewer."
I'd mentioned no parents on day one and day two streams, but here we go again. Definitely a newbie.
Time to explain kindly, then.
"I have no parents."
-Asking that shit again
-KICK THE NEWBS!!!!!!!!
-That bitch has no filter with kids
"No, kicking newbies would hurt me."
The atmosphere overheated beyond expectation. I scratched my cheek, looking awkward.
"They might genuinely not know. This body doesn't sweat that stuff anyway. It's just a plain fact, no?"
They react to others' wounds with bizarre intensity.
I'm utterly unfazed, so why? Couldn't fathom it.
Just because I'm pretty?
"While the game restarts, let's chat about whatever you want."
-No wonder the game loads like a snail
-Stream with that?
-She ain't streaming games anyway—just leave cam on, shut up, and rake in donations
"I'll grant that some aren't here for the gameplay... but why shut my mouth?"
-If you don't know, good...
-It hurts if you do...
-Sigh...
"......Something irks me, but if that's how you feel, so be it."
Game crashed, nothing to do—I swung my dangling legs aimlessly, then checked viewer count.
91 now.
Not back to three digits, but solid progress.
Game relaunched. Hit start, queued again.
Super popular game—matched in under a minute.
About two minutes into loading...
Connected properly.
My pick: the bowman.
Long attack range by default.
Plus, shove away close foes, roll to approach or retreat, even turn invisible sometimes.
"But... something feels off, doesn't it?"
I'd clearly queued bots, so why did their names look like player nicks?
-You queued normal match lol
-Not bots
-Told you it's not bots, why ignore chat
"......Didn't they say players start after level 10?"
-Ranked yes, normals unlock after one bot game
-Patched ages ago
"......Fine. Bots or real humans—what's the difference? I possess overwhelming talent."
I clicked the mouse, heading top on the map.
-You fucking going top??
-You even human
-Way too much fr
"No, what's so wrong with that?"
I had no clue what I'd done wrong.
As curses flew for no reason I could grasp, blinking in confusion, the enemy's champ peeked on the map... then vanished.
And typed in game chat.
"......No idea what's up, but I won!"
Hands on hips, I thrust out my chest and lifted my chin just a touch.
A proud smile spread across my face.