How to Handle the Haters
Cho-young's apology broadcast swept forward like a flash flood.
The moment she answered the hater news with that apology broadcast, her fired-up fans came swarming out to strike back on her behalf. Perhaps that was exactly why? If anything, even more cultivators began pouring into Cho-young's stream—for even those who had never watched an internet broadcast were learning, one by one, that a being called Cheon Cho-young existed.
"What? There's a cultivator who makes the Elixir?"
"Why are you only telling me this now!! Who is it! Find them, at once!"
"Wh-what? The five great sects have already made contact? Damn it."
Not everyone watched internet broadcasts, of course, so there were bound to be cultivators slower than most to catch the news. But this apology-broadcast affair carried word of Cheon Cho-young all the way to the hidden recluses of the cultivation world.
"So now I'm expected to watch this thing called an internet broadcast?"
"You're telling me the Elixir can only be bought by watching that stream?"
"How does one even watch a stream?"
"I don't care about any controversy—just tell me where to buy the Elixir!"
Even cultivators who had never shown the slightest interest began downloading the MegaChrome streaming site onto their bio-chip holograms, one after another.
Needless to say, Cho-young's follower count had leapt to well over double. She was tasting the full, sweet rewards of noise marketing.
Meanwhile, seizing on the window before the world learned that the Elixir was no longer a mere concept but a real, physical thing, one man had craftily cooked up his fake news: Lee Han-yeol, reporter for the NBT news agency.
Right now he sat biting his nails, reading the outrageous comments piling up beneath the AI news piece he had produced.
The view count is an absolute jackpot, sure.
Fact-checking? That sort of thing didn't help the numbers one bit.
If a story looked like it would stir up controversy, you made it first and asked questions later—that was reporter Lee Han-yeol's way, and the motto of the NBT news agency besides. Befitting the age of internet broadcasting, even privately run news agencies could produce video news with NewTube as their platform.
Which meant that for people like them, the only thing that mattered was never whether a story was true—views, views, and nothing but views.
And the views from this incident were rolling in nicely, which was pleasant enough. And yet somewhere underneath, anxiety gnawed at Lee Han-yeol as he chewed his nails raw.
"Aish. I never meant to do this in the first place."
Views might be everything, but they weren't worth more than his life. Besides, the streamer called Cheon Cho-young was a being cherished by the cultivators—that tribe rumored to manipulate this very world from behind the scenes.
From the information Lee Han-yeol had gathered as a reporter, Cheon Cho-young—barely a week into her streaming career—was already a blue-chip prospect among blue-chip prospects, on face-to-face terms with the CEOs of the Big Five corporations.
However important views might be, Lee Han-yeol had zero desire to go to war with the Big Five. And yet there was exactly one reason he had run that article.
Fuck. Pick up the damn phone!!!
The unknown informant.
A week ago, Lee Han-yeol had answered a call coming through on his biometric data chip.
Caller ID: restricted.
"Who is this?"
"...I have a tip for you."
"...And who the hell are you to talk down to me, you little punk?"
"I'll see to it that you're paid handsomely."
"Why, you disrespectful little—"
"One hundred mid-grade Chrome stones."
"Sir. And what would this tip be, sir? Just say the word, and I'm your man."
"...There's this independent streamer who goes by Cheon Cho-young."
"Ah. That famous female streamer?"
"She's selling the Elixir."
"...A health supplement?"
"The Elixir."
"The Elixir... ah, right, there was something like that, come to think of it. But isn't that a medicine that only exists in legends? And who even is Cheon Cho-young, that you want to mess with her? No matter how good the money is, that's just not right."
"I hear your company enjoys quite a reputation for credibility on NewTube?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"I'm trusting you with this. The objective is to drag Cheon Cho-young down so that she can never broadcast again."
"...Wait, doesn't that mean you're telling me to fight the Big Five?"
"Are you afraid of the Big Five?"
"Of course I'm afraid! What kind of idiot wouldn't be?"
"Even if things go wrong, we will protect you."
"Who exactly is 'we'? If you're going to keep joking around—"
"You make your money from views, you take the money we give you, and you get protection on top of it. Even the Big Five won't be able to touch you."
In that moment, Lee Han-yeol realized one thing.
Even the Big Five can't touch them... Could it be?
One piece of information with genuine credibility behind it: that an underground organization existed with power to rival the Big Five. In a dystopian society of hyper-advanced technology, the existence of covert organizations working the underworld was common knowledge.
Among them were three groups stronger than all the rest. He didn't know their names—but that they held the underworld in an iron grip was fact.
An underground organization even the Big Five could not touch lightly. What if the ones who had called him were one of those organizations?
"...I'm putting my life on the line here too, you know. I need something I can actually count on."
"...Look at your door right now. A piece of mail should have arrived. Come to the address written there."
And then—click. The line went dead.
When he later tracked down the address, Lee Han-yeol learned who had called him: Puppet Valley, one of the underground organizations. It hadn't been the Valley's main stronghold but one of the back-alley pubs it ran, where a man who looked for all the world like a marionette had come out, pressed a single token into Lee Han-yeol's hand, and walked away.
Ever since, Lee Han-yeol had been redialing endlessly, staring down at the token he'd received that day. No matter how many times he called, no one picked up.
"Damn it! You said sharing the token means you're Puppet Valley people! Then why won't you answer the phone! You said you'd protect me!"
Lee Han-yeol slammed his fist down on the desk with a bang.
Was he going to die like this? Had he really let views and money blind him into accepting a job this dangerous? Frantic now, he bit his nails even more savagely than before.
Then it happened.
Clatter!
Something had fallen just outside the door.
Lee Han-yeol's head snapped up in alarm.
"...Wh-who is it?"
Silence.
Don't tell me... had one of the Big Five actually sent someone to make him pay for Cheon Cho-young?
Lee Han-yeol fished an old-fashioned micro camera out of his pocket and tucked it away carefully behind the bookshelf at the back of the room. Then he dove under the desk.
I d-don't want to die!!
Before long came the sound of the door opening.
His whole body began to shake, rattled by fear and dread. Clutching himself, he desperately chanted to himself that everything would be all right.
Then—
Clatter.
Something shaped like a human foot appeared before Lee Han-yeol's eyes.
CRACK-CRUNCH!!
A human-shaped body collapsed like a toy with a broken mechanism. And then the head rolled, tumbling, until it came to rest right beneath the desk—and its shut eyes snapped wide open.
A moment later, a voice seeped out, chilling to the bone.
"......!!!"
KA-BOOOOM!!!
Over the weekend after her apology broadcast, Cho-young was enjoying a stretch of solemn self-reflection (?) that doubled as rest.
Ding-dong—
The doorbell rang without warning.
Cho-young, who at that very moment was nearly done packing Elixirs together with Hye-yeon, sprang to her feet and hurried for the door.
"Who is it?"
First she checked the peephole lens on the front door. A middle-aged man was standing outside. From every angle, his face at least seemed kindly enough—and she sensed no cultivation aura from him besides—so Cho-young opened the door.
Then again, if he had been a cultivator, he would have been shredded to pieces long before ever reaching Cho-young's house.
"Hello? I called you before, and—"
"Ah! The CEO of Zewibe?"
Lim Jeong-gu, CEO of Zewibe.
In fact, the day before, right after Cho-young finished her apology broadcast, Jeong-gu had called her. He said he wanted to talk about the current situation, so Cho-young had invited him to her home.
Jeong-gu took a long, slow turn around Cho-young's house, which still held on to the charm of the old days, then sat down on the sofa where she showed him.
"It's nothing special, but please, have some juice."
Cho-young poured juice into a glass, set it in front of Jeong-gu, and sat down on the sofa herself.
"First of all."
Jeong-gu opened his mouth and rose from the sofa. Then, all of a sudden, he brought both hands together above his forehead—
"Please accept this bow, my benefactor!"
—and dropped into a deep, formal bow.
"Wh-wh-why are you doing this!!"
Cho-young shot up from her seat in a half-crouch, fidgeting, beside herself.
"Thanks to you, Cheon Cho-young, Zewibe was able to come back to life!! My grandfather left behind a will that our family has treasured for generations, and I was finally able to fulfill it in my own time—how could I possibly not bow before you!! One more... would be a bit much, but truly, thank you so much!!!"
Jeong-gu's eyes were rimmed red.
Cho-young could only scratch the back of her head, embarrassed.
I mean, I had no idea it would help this much.
She had chosen Zewibe simply because it was a place she'd used since the old days—familiar, and dear to her heart. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it would bring an entire site like Zewibe back from the dead.
"J-just, please, have a seat."
The look in Jeong-gu's eyes was almost too much for Cho-young to bear. It looked like lasers were about to shoot out of them. Star-sparkling lasers. It stung.
"To think I would get the chance to help the one who saved my life like this. I'm moved—moved all over again!"
"Help... me?"
"I saw the apology broadcast you did. How unfair it must have been for you! Daring to spread fake news smearing our Cheon Cho-young's Elixir as a mere health supplement? Reporters like that deserve to vanish off the face of the earth!!"
"W-well, saying they should vanish is a bit much..."
"Ah. The thought of my benefactor coming under attack—I got a little carried away."
Lim Jeong-gu composed himself and spoke again, his voice steadied.
"It's an embarrassing thing to boast about, but in the week you kept your broadcast off, Zewibe really hit its stride. We're running a good number of advertisements now, too. So... I've been looking for a model."
"A model?"
Lim Jeong-gu bowed his head low.
"I want to make you the face of Zewibe!! It may be a humble little website, but it's growing—and I believe, without a shred of doubt, that this will be a fine opportunity for you as well, Cheon Cho-young. If we put your face front and center and promote the Elixir, we can let far more people know that the Elixir—a medicine long dismissed as mere legend—has been revived! And the people who were whipped up by that fake news won't be able to curse you anymore, either!"