The Clarification Stream

When a menacing brute standing easily over six feet three bowed with impeccable deference to So Rihwa, the chat erupted into a sea of question marks.

"Hey. Didn't I tell you not to bow like that? People watching are going to get the wrong idea."

"Ah! My apologies. But come on, it's not like anyone's around to see."

"What do you mean, no one? I'm live right now."

"Huh? Noonim, you stream?"

As So Rihwa gave her smartphone a little wave, the thug's eyes widened. He craned his neck, staring straight into the lens. From the perspective of the viewers, they had just locked dead eyes with an underworld enforcer.

"Is it an Excel stream? A lot of our boys love watching those. We were actually planning to organize one ourselves with the girls from the Red Lantern parlor we manage."

Spoken like a true street thug—his thought process was legendary. From his coarse tone and intimidating presence to his scarred mug and the blade glinting in his grip, there was zero chance this was staged. He was genuine underworld material through and through.

"Wait, or maybe not? Come to think of it, if Noonim ran an Excel stream, would there even be any demand? Outside of a few perverts with niche tastes, I mean—"

"...Do you want to die?"

Rihwa flicked a pebble from the pavement with the tip of her shoe, sending it straight into his shin. Infused with internal qi, the impact packed a vicious sting.

"Gaaah!"

The camera shook slightly as the giant grabbed his leg and collapsed onto the asphalt.

Since the stream's camera angle cut off below his waist, the chat was convinced she had kicked him square in the shin. Even though it was merely a flicked pebble, its destructive power easily eclipsed an ordinary kick, so their assumption was hardly off the mark.

"Look, you scared my viewers. Walking around looking like that with a knife out makes you look like a wanted criminal no matter how you slice it. Apologize."

"Aiyoo, my bad, elder brothers in the chat! One of our crew members embezzled our funds and skipped town, so I'm just holding a blade while ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we hunt him down. Please don't get the wrong idea!" The thug looked up toward the camera lens, speaking with utmost humility. "And if any of you dare leave malicious comments targeting Noonim, I'll pay you a personal visit. Tracking down runaway scum happens to be our side hustle. If you don't wanna see my ugly mug, you'd better ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smash that donation button generously."

"Cut the crap. With a face like yours, they're going to think you're dead serious."

"Heheh, just a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠joke, just a joke."

Though he laughed it off as a jest, the chat had already sanitized itself completely, scrubbed clean of every stray insult or taunt.

Lingering here with this idiot any longer risked derailing the entire broadcast. As So Rihwa took a step forward, the enforcer scrambled to his feet and snapped a rigid military salute. Rihwa gave her phone a light wave.

"Say your goodbyes, everyone. Despite how terrifying he looks, he's actually pretty soft-hearted. And thank you for the donation."

The mobster kept his head bowed low until Rihwa completely passed him by. The chat plunged into bewildered chaos, feeling as though they had just watched a surreal comedy sketch unfold in real time.

"To be clear, I'm not actually older than him," Rihwa remarked casually. "I just disciplined him a few times back in the day, and he's insisted on calling me Noonim ever since."

Her nonchalant tone only stoked the flames of confusion.

Viewers on Ogogok were considered among the mildest and most sheltered across all streaming platforms. Confronted with visuals straight out of a syndicate documentary, they were shivering in their boots. The vocal critics who had spent the last hour shrieking about aimbots seemed to have sealed their lips shut following the unexpected cameo from the mobster.

Her original intention was to log into a capsule room to clear up the cheating allegations, yet strangely enough, the accusations were evaporating on their own. The trolls had swallowed their words out of pure intimidation. Still, having walked all the way here, she figured proving it indisputably inside a game remained the best course of action. She stepped into the entrance of the parlor.

"Oh. So this is what a capsule room looks like."

Curiosity gleaming in her eyes, Rihwa turned her phone to capture the interior. Being located in a destitute slum, the facilities were visibly rundown. The peeling walls were stained yellow from decades of ingrained tobacco smoke, but to Rihwa's archaic sensibilities, the setup seemed remarkably futuristic.

Though the viewers were taken aback by the dilapidated state of the establishment, the mobster's earlier warning clearly retained its potency, prompting the chat to police itself with remarkable speed.

Noticing the chime of a customer entering, the proprietor ambled out from the back counter. He was a brawny man clad in a black sleeveless undershirt, his forearms smothered in elaborate dragon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tattoos.

"Just one person, please."

"Ah, aren't you Heroine So?!"

The shop owner recognized her immediately, his rugged face breaking into a radiant grin. Naturally so; throughout this entire rundown sector, only one person possessed silver hair, a petite frame, and an ever-present black ball cap pulled low over her eyes.

"What's with the 'Heroine' title again?"

"Aiyoo, don't you know we wouldn't even be able to conduct business without Heroine So around? Are you here to jump into a capsule?"

"Ah, yes. Come to think of it, I'm currently livestreaming. Is it alright if the shop is on camera?"

"Good grief, it's free publicity for us, why wouldn't it be! You're streaming on that phone?"

"Yes, that's right."

The owner enthusiastically waved toward the smartphone lens. Since he didn't possess the menacing aura of an active gang enforcer, the chat eased up, considerably less frightened than before.

"Heroine So has started streaming! Truly, viewers, I'm not just saying this because she's standing right here—this young lady is an extraordinary person. She's the one who crushed the local syndicate and stopped them from extorting protection fees from our shops. And when we tried to thank her, she refused to take a single dime, saying it was merely what any decent person ought to do. She might be younger than me, but she has my deepest, utmost respect."

"Why bring all that up? That happened three years ago."

"Because it's extraordinary! Wielding that caliber of martial power and choosing to help others without expecting reward isn't an easy feat. If true chivalric heroes still exist in the twenty-first century, she's the embodiment of one. Please shower her broadcast with plenty of love!"

The owner bowed his head in earnest entreaty. Rihwa scratched her cheek, feeling a prickle of embarrassment. He wasn't inventing tall tales, but she hardly felt it was something that needed broadcasting to thousands of strangers on the internet.

"Anyway, I'd like to use a capsule. How much for an hour?"

"Good heavens, how could I ever accept money from Heroine So? Please, use it on the house."

"No, I brought cash."

"I absolutely cannot take it. If word spreads that I charged Heroine So for a session, I won't be able to run a business in this district anymore. The Sinseong-gu Merchants Association would form a mob and lynch me on the spot!"

"...Haaah."

This was precisely why she avoided frequenting shops around Sinseong-gu. Receiving handouts always sat uncomfortably with her. Still, seeing how adamantly he insisted, she figured an hour's stay wouldn't hurt.

"Then I'll just play for an hour."

"Stay all day if you like!"

Faced with his heartfelt enthusiasm, Rihwa offered a wry smile and made her way down the hallway. The establishment was partitioned into compact private booths, each housing a single capsule. All she needed to do was locate an unoccupied pod and link in.

Much like the disorderly alleys of Sinseong District itself, the stream's chat had devolved into pure bewilderment. Nobody could have predicted the broadcast would take such an absurd turn. Even the host herself hadn't anticipated it.

"I'll reconnect through the capsule."

The chat had achieved pristine harmony. While the toxic accusers and opportunistic trolls had filtered out, causing the viewer count to dip slightly, it comfortably maintained a steady audience of over fifteen hundred. The sheer novelty of an authentic slum walk—a spectacle virtually unheard of on Ogogok—had everyone utterly captivated.

Shortly after, Rihwa re-established her broadcast link directly from inside the VR capsule. Though she had worried the aging pod might lack streaming integration, the baseline functions operated smoothly.

"Alright, shall we get into a game?" Rihwa announced, her voice bright and relaxed. With the bad actors purged from the chat, speaking felt substantially easier. "Since Trooper is still the only character I know how to play, I'll stick with him for now."

With the chat settling into a placid rhythm, Rihwa gradually regained her stride. Because her profile had yet to reach the minimum clearance for ranked matchmaking, she was restricted to casual queues. Consequently, her hidden MMR placed her alongside pure beginners who had registered their accounts mere hours ago.

With the matchmaking pool sitting at rock bottom, virtually none of her fifteen hundred viewers could attempt to stream-snipe her. The capsule gaming infrastructure enforced a strict one-account-per-citizen policy; the moment duplicate accounts were flagged, an immediate permanent ban struck down all associated profiles, making the risk far too steep.

"Oh, found a match."

What followed was an exhibition of sheer, unadulterated slaughter. She had already dismantled diamond-tier opponents during her duo queue with Jo Meohyeop, so raw novices stood no chance whatsoever. Most of the beginners moved stiffly under maximum movement correction assistance, only to take ten pinpoint rounds to the cranium before collapsing into the dirt.

Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!

The kill log ticked upward without pause. Her footwork and crosshair placement were visibly sharper than the day prior. During her debut, she had been fumbling blindly through foreign mechanics, but with a handful of matches under her belt, she had already internalized the foundational rhythm of the game.

Forgetting the shock of the real-world underworld encounters, the viewers found themselves thoroughly entranced by Rihwa's gameplay. Pitched against raw beginners, her mechanical execution shone with blinding brilliance.

"Uh, umm. The opposing team seems a bit weaker than yesterday?"

Aware that she was entertaining an audience, Rihwa tossed out sporadic commentary, though none of it held much strategic depth. It hardly mattered. What sustained the viewer engagement was not her banter, but the sheer spectacle of her overwhelming gunplay.

Bang-bang-bang!

As the one-sided massacre concluded, the post-match summary screen materialized. In their previous session, Jo Meohyeop had exited the lobby instantly, preventing her from inspecting this evaluation.

Royal Commando's post-game system evaluated individual combat metrics to crown the match MVP. Naturally, the distinction belonged undisputed to So Rihwa.

Even factoring in the novice status of her opponents, the scoreline was surreal. A single player had repeatedly wiped an entire five-man squad off the map on spawn, rendering such numbers inevitable.

In the second match, and the third match that followed, So Rihwa clinched the MVP title every single time. As her consecutive victories on absurd metrics elevated her hidden MMR, the caliber of her adversaries rose, yet none could bridge the gap against her unassisted evasion and inhuman tracking.

Whenever an opponent fell victim to her opening strike, their in-game chat reactions mirrored one another. Her aiming precision felt downright unreasonable to anyone on the receiving end. Some disgruntled casualties even hurled profanities through the text channel.

By the conclusion of her third match, exactly sixty minutes had elapsed. Confirming the time on her interface, So Rihwa addressed the stream.

"Well then, does that settle the cheating accusations?"

The viewers acted as though the entire controversy had never existed in the first place. And just like that, the suspicion that had briefly plagued So Rihwa dissolved completely into thin air.