Chapter 86: I See You as a Man-5
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 86: I See You as a Man-5
It wasn't just empty flattery. President In-ho looked truly dashing now that his shaggy hair had been neatly trimmed.
Perhaps it was because we had been at opposite ends of the salon and I hadn't seen the process? When I finally met him at the counter, I couldn't help but be startled. For a split second, I wasn't even sure it was him.
A man’s transformation can be just as dramatic as a woman’s.
On the other hand, I wasn't so sure about my own look. President In-ho said it suited me well, but... it felt like one of those obligatory compliments. I felt a bit self-conscious, thinking the stylists at the salon looked much prettier than I did.
After taking the elevator down to the basement, we got into his car and began the drive back to the center.
His car looked expensive even from the outside, and when I asked for the name, it was one of those brands I’d heard people mention in passing. If someone like me, who knows nothing about cars, recognized the name, it was definitely a luxury vehicle.
But why is he being so nice to me?
Was that employee who visited the other day right? Is he really interested in me?
Lately, that thought keeps looping in my head. Whether I’m working out or lying in bed trying to sleep, I find myself thinking about President In-ho at least three times a day. Well, he helps me out in so many ways, so it’s only natural that he’d be on my mind.
"...Garam."
"Huh?"
"Garam."
I must have been so lost in thought that I didn't hear him calling me.
The Sunday afternoon streets were jam-packed with people out on excursions. Even the President’s expensive car wasn't exempt from the gridlock; we were crawling forward at a snail's pace.
"Oh! Yes?"
"What are you thinking about so deeply?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
I looked at his face as he stared straight ahead. He was still on the heavier side, but his face no longer had that unpleasantly bloated, bumpy look it had when we first met. It was the result of the swelling going down thanks to his diet and exercise.
"I was just thinking about what workout to do on Monday."
If he loses a bit more weight, he might look even better...
I answered him while these stray thoughts drifted through my mind. At my response, he flinched slightly and let out a hollow laugh.
"Would you mind taking a look at this?"
The light turned red, and as the car came to a halt, he handed me his phone.
"What is it?"
My Playlist?
It was a private YouTube playlist containing four videos.
"Just watch."
Following his lead, I played the first video.
[Kyahou! Welcome to Pepe TV, you bros!]
A man wearing bizarre, grotesque makeup screamed at the camera.
"What in the...?"
[Today's content! Drinking ten 1.5-liter bottles of Coke without stopping!]
He shoved a plastic bottle into his mouth like he was mounting a jug onto a water cooler and started chugging. Occasionally, the liquid would reflux and spray out of his mouth, but despite the obvious pain, he managed to finish it all. He ended the video with a barrage of wet, sticky burps as proof of his success.
"President? What on earth is this...?"
Is this the "internet broadcasting" he was talking about? Am I supposed to do a broadcast where I eat ten packs of chicken breast?
"Watch the next one."
The second video.
[Hey oppas, today your bubbly Momo-chan has prepared a bunny dance for you~]
A petite woman spoke in a high-pitched, forced baby voice. She was wearing bunny pajamas and doing a "cute" dance.
I turned it off immediately. Being cute does not suit me.
The third video.
[Alright, today we’re going to try an exercise to lose belly fat. First, let's look at this supplement we sell...]
What is this scammy video?
"Are you done?"
After watching a few more clips of various internet broadcasts, my head felt even more cluttered. What kind of broadcast did he want me to do? I was genuinely confused.
"Um... what kind of broadcast am I supposed to do? Out of these, the only options seem to be dancing or a workout stream."
Am I supposed to take my clothes off? But I just have a lot of muscle; I don't have a big chest, and I can't do sexy dances.
"We’re going to do something that isn't on that list," he said smoothly as he made a right turn.
"What does that mean?"
"To be precise, shall we call it something between a workout video and a female streamer's broadcast?"
The light changed again, and the car stopped. He looked at me with a serious expression.
"I don't think you have much of a knack for variety or comedy, Garam."
He wasn't wrong. Making people laugh is incredibly hard.
"Then what about workout tips?"
"The efficiency relative to the effort isn't that great. I’ve considered it for future content, but as material to draw immediate attention, it’s a bit weak. Workout broadcasts are a bit of a red ocean."
Specifically, YouTube is saturated, he added.
The light turned green again. As he drove, he began to recite the trends he’d identified on internet broadcasting platforms—OceaniaTV?—and YouTube. Had he been studying this? He spoke without a single stutter, and he looked quite impressive doing so.
"So, we need to pull video material from your daily routine. Without putting too much effort into editing. To the point where we can upload the broadcast content directly to YouTube."
"Is that even possible? I don't know much about this, but don't you have to add subtitles and things like that?"
"No. The content we’re going to do is 'Lonely Iron Lifting.'"
"Lonely Iron Lifting?"
Isn't lifting iron always lonely?
"You work out twice a day, right? Before the center opens and after it closes?"
"Yes."
"We’re going to turn on the broadcast then."
"Huh? And then what?"
"That’s it. Don't respond to the chat or donations; just go through your routine and work out. We’ll have to set up the camera angles in advance, though."
"Uh... will people actually watch that?"
When I asked out of pure bewilderment, he scratched his head and avoided my gaze.
"It’s a bit awkward to say this, but... you’ll need to wear at least some basic makeup when you broadcast."
"Why makeup?"
"Because a broadcast of a woman working out is more popular than a man working out, and a broadcast of a pretty woman working out will be more popular than just any woman working out."
Ah... I see.
But... am I pretty?
"Am I pretty?"
At my question, he looked even more flustered and averted his eyes further.
"Well... you’re charming."
That felt kind of insulting.
"So you're saying I'm not pretty."
"Ah... this is hard to explain... Sigh. Right. To be honest, compared to professional female streamers, you might not be 'pretty' in that specific way. There’s also the difference in lighting and professional makeup to consider."
I already knew that, but hearing it directly from him made me feel grumpy.
"Ah, don't look like that. I didn't mean you're ugly. Anyway, you're plenty charming. I just meant you're not 'celebrity-pretty.'"
Seeing my gloomy expression, he spoke faster.
"We’re going to push a concept of 'sexy, healthy beauty.'"
We’ll talk more about the details at the center, he said.
—Vroom.
The traffic cleared, and the car began to speed up. With the center finally in sight, I asked him one last thing I was curious about.
"President."
"Ugh, that jerk should've used his blinker before cutting in... Yes?"
"We have to decide on a broadcast ID, right?"
"Right. Do you have anything in mind? I haven't thought about that yet."
"How about 'Garam’s Workout Stream'?"
"Rejected."
Hmph. Mean.