Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Persistent Customer Management
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It had been a week and three days since I lost Apple.
"...Why?"
Despite desperately searching for you, pleading that my daily routine had fallen apart since you vanished, all I got back was a notification that the ID was already blocked.
Struck by the bolt-from-the-blue news, I racked my brains in utter despair, but no answers came. Why on earth?
The cursor wandered aimlessly across the screen like a lost mouse. Truth be told, this substitute streamer was "decent" enough.
Why did he keep attempting so many reinforcements? Equipment would shatter left and right, he'd scream every time, and it always broke the hunting rhythm.
So why was I still watching his broadcast?
As it turned out, he was one of my major customers... Yeah. This was just part of customer service.
When the broadcast screen went black as he claimed to borrow gold from a friend, a notification pinged on the trading site at the same time.
What were the odds that a streamer I stumbled upon was one of my regular trading partners?
"Alright~ Borrowed some gold. Back to challenging +12!"
"Pain-free? What's that? I just borrowed from a friend."
As expected of a streamer, Daesik's purchase volume was on another level from casual players. Watching the numbers steadily climb in his bank account during the reinforcement stream brought a smile to my face.
In Eden, combining two gems for a +1 reinforcement meant the surviving gem was destroyed on failure—a truly vicious system.
With 10 equipment slots from helmet to shoes, that meant reinforcing 10 gems total.
Prices varied slightly by slot, but the biggest gap was the "diamond" for weapons.
Daesik hit the reinforce button with a tense expression. The screen flashed briefly, followed by a cheerful sound.
Kwachik.
"Shiiit!!"
"Haa... Should I just use +11? I don't have gold for more diamonds."
Daesik's expression shifted with every shift in chat opinion.
As the viewers said, the average Eden player's gem reinforcement was around +8-9 per slot. +11 held serious value—it wasn't a level to handle lightly.
But it couldn't end like that.
"He still has gold left..."
That's why I started "customer management," shelling out the equivalent of 20,000 gold in precious earnings.
"I've spent too much today. Let's do Iron Mountain raid."
"Ah! +11 is good too! What level are you?!"
The chat opinion flipped instantly, irritation creeping into Daesik's voice.
"Argh, no reinforcements today. Heading to Iron Mountain."
But his voice was firm. Guess business was done for today.
'Well, I made a good haul today...'
With lingering regret, I headed to the hunting grounds for some economic activity.
Daesik, the blatantly obvious hand on the 'Priya' server, earned a spot in my favorites.
The deal closed at above-market rates, elevating his image in my mind to the epitome of generosity.
Of course, the reinforcement failed again.
"Argh! Anyone know this pattern?"
"Daesik, focus on surviving first, not the pattern..."
"Gah! Viewer talking back?!"
While gathering herbs on my alt, I glanced at the sub-monitor to see a gray screen.
'Wiped again.'
Daesik's viewer raid content was stuck on the 3rd named boss pattern—11 tries now, over 2 hours.
It wasn't a tough pattern once you figured it out, making my fingers itch, but I pulled back from the keyboard.
I'd invested too much time learning it myself to give it away easily.
It was a trade secret, and if I spilled the full pattern... he wouldn't need my items anymore.
'...Oh, nice profit.'
Lost in thought while gathering, I heard a familiar knock from behind.
Knock knock knock.
It had to be the landlady.
Ever since she learned about my "manifestation," she'd shown unexpected interest, occasionally dropping off side dishes like this.
It saved on food costs and tasted great—a welcome gesture.
Grumbling, I opened the door to see the familiar dish container.
But the hand holding it wasn't the usual one.
Stunned, I looked up—and our eyes met.
"...Who are you?"
The words Who the hell are you? rose to my throat, but I couldn't spit them out.
Tall and handsome enough to be called a "parasite pretty boy." Yeah, the jerks from school who called me a loser all looked like that.
In other words, an alpha male.
I had no immunity to faces like that, so I started to gently close the door—no, tried to.
Thud.
His foot blocked it. I stared blankly at the obstructed doorway.
"Mom said a bachelor lived here."
"......"
Ah, that explained it. With "mom" and the familiar dish, he had to be the landlady's son. Alpha male gold digger? My spirits sank.
A vague sense of inferiority made me want to retreat inside.
I opened my mouth, but my voice came out meek.
"...Am."
"Hm?"
"...Male. Yes."
His skeptical gaze scanned me from toes to head, lingering suspiciously on my chest.
Not wrong... right now.
The stare was so uncomfortable I hurriedly corrected myself.
"...Was."
"Pardon?"
"I was male."
"Ah...!"
Dawning realization hit him, and he gave me a pitying look.
Not a pleasant feeling, so I rushed on.
"That's how it is. Thank your mom for me..."
This seemed conversation enough, so I tugged at the dish—but it didn't budge.
I'd always been weak, so whether I'd gotten weaker as a woman or he was just strong, no way to tell.
God, I just wanted to go inside.
Then a familiar voice burst from behind me.
"This kills it? Bug or what?"
"Daesik's fingers smashed... You, get out!"
Daesik's voice, embarrassing anywhere.
Naturally, the man's gaze shifted past me, exposing my room and the monitor screen in full view.
Interest sparked in his eyes.
"Daesik fan, huh?"
"...Not a fan, more like a business partner..."
"You're a streamer?"
Daesik was dragging the small talk longer. I tugged the dish again in discomfort, but it stayed put—infuriating.
Maybe remove Daesik from favorites.
"No, not a streamer. More like a customer..."
"A customer...?"
"I take money from Daesik."
"...Money?"
His eyebrow twitched for a split second. No idea why. No time to think.
I was just exhausted from actual conversation after so long.
I wanted inside.
"Daesik... pays you money?"
"Yes."
"...Money?"
"He pays for it."
"What kind? Can I know...?"
"Th-that's kinda hard to say..."
I wasn't ashamed of rice-gaming per se, but admitting it outright to a stranger felt embarrassing, so I trailed off.
Saying it straight would surely make him think "game addict" or "hikikomori" by Korean standards.
...Not entirely wrong, though.
"The kind that's hard to talk about?"
"Yeeah... Cultural thing in Korea."
"......"
"Kinda embarrassing..."
"Ah......"
"Can I have the dish now...?"
No more deep talk possible, so I pleaded unwittingly—and finally got the dish.
"Got it for now. See you next time."
"...Next time? Why?"
What, flirting?
Self-deprecating thought aside, his gleaming eyes sent chills down my spine.
Meanwhile, the spicy pork stir-fry aroma wafting from the dish was temptingly good—confusing.
"Gotta deliver more side dishes."
...No need.