Collab Stream

Treat me like a friend of twenty years.

Show the raw, unfiltered side—like a solo stream.

Those were the only two things Gangseok had asked for, and I followed them to the letter.

"You landed your ultimate?"

"Uh, uh…"

"So what are you doing? Why aren't you diving in?"

An age gap? Of course there was. Roughly ten years, give or take.

But what was I supposed to do? He'd told me to treat him like a sworn brother of twenty years.

"Ah—ah!"

"Hey, what are you doing?! You said you were ganking!"

"Oh, so that's how this works."

Worse still—I'd called for a gank, and the enemy jungler showed up too. We both died.

"Enemy Pro? …Sharp."

"This bastard."

"Hang on, old man. I'll take care of everything."

"Old man…?"

"What else am I supposed to call you?"

The word seemed to hit Gangseok harder than expected.

Hmm? Once you've finished reserve duty, aren't you an old man by definition?

"I mean… I am an old man, technically…"

"I'm a teacher, thank you."

Even so, I was definitely not an old lady. Hmm. Twenty-year friendship… so let's say we'd been friends since I was four.

"…So what now? Top's completely wrecked."

"Technically, jungle's the one that's wrecked."

For the record, the enemy jungler had taken both kills. Me? My lane was still pretty clean, so I hadn't lost much.

"You little shit. I'm only playing bot from now on."

"Huh?"

That was a problem.

"Teacher, come back."

"Since when am I your teacher? Get lost."

After a few rounds of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠banter, Gangseok had actually gotten sulky—and he really did only go bot.

For fuck's sake… was this a midlife crisis?

I had enough sense not to say that out loud. Instead, I spammed pings.

"Ah—they're diving me, I'm dead, I'm dead!"

"Enemy's got jjajang—let's go~"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

In the end, the top lane situation completely collapsed. After that early accident, the overfed enemy jungler had come to intervene. I couldn't even farm minions under tower anymore.

So there was nothing else for it. I turned my champion around mid-path to top and walked into our own jungle instead.

"Hey—hey, what are you doing!"

"Since jungle won't come top, I'm going in myself."

What else was I supposed to do? Better for a carry-role top like me to take the camps than leave them for a low-elo jungler.

"Touch the wolves and see what happens."

"Tap."

"You little shit."

And more importantly—he kept refusing to even glance toward top, so our jungle camps were rotting. Who told him to abandon the lane?

Lucky for me, I was on a champ that cleared jungle just fine. I swept the camps on a regular schedule.

"I'm just going to cover the top half of the map, chat. That guy's a lost cause."

"I'll burn his TP for him."

By this point it was pure pride. Top refused to roam. Jungle refused to even look top. The game rolled on like that.

We won.

"Told ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you we'd win."

…How did we win?

Ah.

Because we were bad, the matchmaker was pairing us with good players. All hail matchmaking rigs, for fuck's sake.

Anyway, looking at the results as a whole—Gangseok and I actually clicked pretty well.

"Haaah~ why are kids these days so bad?"

"Tsk. Right? No passion at all."

"Nobody's got grit anymore. Just spam surrender votes."

"This is why Rel addicts are the problem. The problem."

"Aren't you a Rel addict?"

"I'm a Rel queen, actually."

Gangseok had clearly been thrown off at first, but now he was adapting like the professional broadcaster he was.

"But abandoning top feels correct, right? The ROI is there even without investment."

"You should invest in a top this good."

"If I invest, you just spit it back out, you bastard."

"We won either way, right? Everything's a calculated risk based on the return."

Anyway, we'd won a lot today. I wasn't sure why. He kept abandoning top—so why did we keep winning? Good team luck, maybe?

"Can everyone just be quiet?"

Anyway, all those wins left me satisfied. I hadn't expected much, but we'd climbed a ton of LP.

"Let's call it here and run it again next time."

"Yeah, you bastard. Next time let's die in duo ranked together."

"Wayo-nim, we're done."

"Oh, is that so? Thanks for your hard work, Gangseok-nim."

Besides, we'd won plenty today. Time to wrap the collab. Always better to part ways clean after a win.

Click.

Rel was over, and ending the collab that abruptly left the viewers stunned.

"There's nothing else to talk about."

We'd already chewed the fat plenty while waiting for matches. And collabs like this were cleaner when you just played the games and signed off.

"Old man Gangseok? Yeah, he was pretty good."

Saying that, I launched Laek. Enough Rel—time for Laek.

Hey, a streamer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠has to do what a streamer has to do. Didn't I still have Laek quests to clear?

"If he keeps jungling, he'll hit Emerald for sure."

More than that—Gangseok was actually pretty good. Honestly, I'd come in braced to get my LP drained, but his tier hadn't skyrocketed for nothing. Well. Today he had done a thorough job of holding this Wayo back, though.

"Are you people deaf…"

"Again? Eh, if the opportunity comes up."

Still—we'd gotten along surprisingly well, and it had been fun. Reminded me a bit of the old collabs with Haeganom and Yeongukno. Back then the three of us used to run a ton of normals together.

"This girl's ego is way too big, tsk."

"What'd you say, you hardstuck bastard?"

"Don't fight, you two bottom-feeders."

…Those were fond memories now. The potty-mouthed hellraisers from back then had all gone legit and found peace, so maybe it was for the best for everyone.

Anyway.

"Alright, let's go raid."

They'd found the light—so at least I had to stay right here.

"I'll put on a video."

Sprawled flat in the waiting spot, I watched the videos the abyss demons sent in.

Gangseok—streamer for a solid ten years straight since leaving the military.

"Damn, that was rough."

Now a major corporate-tier broadcaster on Zizizik, someone almost nobody on the platform didn't know, he let out a long breath once the collab ended.

"I mean, not exactly small… but still, I got a little flustered."

How old was Master Waryong, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anyway? He'd never said, but given that Haebin and Seong Hayeon were friends, late twenties at most. Man.

Of course, from a broadcasting standpoint, it had been good. The whole charm of a collab was the back-and-forth. Even his close younger streamer friends started with insults the second they hopped on a collab, didn't they?

"You bastard, if you play carnivore jungle one more time you're dead."

…Still. Getting that from a first collab had thrown him. So polite game one, then the second the table was set, the mask came off like a pro.

"Still, the person was fun."

"Tournament? Ah right, I forgot to ask."

Come to think of it—he'd meant to casually bring up the tournament during the collab and completely blanked on it.

"Mmm… you think so?"

The tournament type? He wasn't sure about that… A flash of that collab—farming the allied jungle clean—flickered past.

…They probably wouldn't do that in a real tournament, right?

Yeah. That had all been for the stream.

"Though… they're probably going to message me later, right?"

More than that—long broadcasting experience told him those types always followed up afterward. Sorry, senior, or I hope I didn't upset you T_T—that sort of thing.

They'd gone hard for the stream, after all. The other person was older, a broadcasting senior… of course it'd weigh on them.

"If they message, I'll mess with them a little."

If Master Waryong messaged too, he'd say it was fine. That was just how streams worked—offer a word of encouragement, then turn it into stream content later…

"Hmm."

A day passed.

"Hmm…"

Two days. Three days.

"Hmmm…?"

In the end, no message ever came.