Broadcast Day One

…….

Today, I woke up quite early. [1:00 pm] A surprisingly early morning. It was unexpected, considering I had been gaming until dawn the night before.

"Cutter knife……."

The moment I got up, I looked for the cutter knife. For some reason, my mood always sank in the mornings. With no thoughts in my head, I grabbed the cutter knife and walked over to the monitor.

Click. Click…….

Click. Click…….

"…Maybe I shouldn't today."

I took the cutter knife out and put it back in, seriously debating it. My mood was low, but I figured that was normal for the morning.

"…Then I'll do it on my leg today."

With that, I lifted my barely-moving left leg and placed it on the desk. I leaned back in my chair, settling into a comfortable position.

Click!!

"…Huuu."

A trembling breath echoed through the tiny room. The stench of rotting garbage filled the air as a red line was drawn on the inside of my thigh.

"Kkhh…!!! Huuup!"

I clamped my mouth shut, pulled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out tissues to stop the bleeding, and savored the dopamine rushing through me. My head spun. Blood dripped steadily from my thigh. Such a pretty red. An unbearably pretty red. The tissues turned rose-colored, and a smile spread across my face.

"Ow… hiss."

After the dopamine burst came an even sharper, bitter pain. My thigh kept rubbing against the bandage, sending a dull ache through me. I had wrapped it, but the pain was unavoidable. I had gone to the bathroom to wash the cutter knife and ended up showering too, so the pain had doubled.

"Can't stop now."

Muttering that, I booted up EoW like always. I had to get good enough that Minwoo wouldn't be disappointed. But playing alone kept leading to the same thing.

I just kept getting flamed and nothing went right. Usually people didn't flame once you reached Ranker, but…

'…I must be playing really badly.'

Far from the top of the Ranker ladder, even Diamond players were matching against me now. With how prideful high-rank players were, the flaming was inevitable. I swallowed the bitterness. At least there was one silver lining.

"…Heh."

I could answer those kinds of questions with zero emotion. Especially when they insulted my mom—it actually felt satisfying. Like the person who deserved the insults was the one receiving them, not me.

In the end, that game where I got flamed the entire match by some lunatic, I still won. After he left still spamming insults, I just reported him.

"…They'll take care of it."

Game companies were strangely good at catching toxic chat. If someone was flaming that hard in high ranks, it meant they weren't exactly sane either.

"Well, he probably got a ton of reports too."

With that many reports, a suspension would be easy.

"It's been a while since I heard real insults… feels kind of empty."

Emptiness washed over me. I didn't want to play anymore. I really loved this game. But I couldn't love the toxic players who came with it.

"…Ah."

Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I had tried to act fine, but my chest felt like it was being torn apart. It hurt. What did I even do wrong? I won the game, so why did I have to get flamed?

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry……."

Crying, I apologized. I started apologizing without even knowing what my mistake was. I loved the game. But this side of it—I didn't love.

Click.

Once again, I borrowed the counselor's power. Instead of transparent tears, red liquid dripped from my wrist.

"…I don't want to reset again."

I had to play. I had to climb back to a stable Ranker position. Then the flaming would decrease, I could stream confidently, and most importantly—

"Because Minwoo is counting on me."

I wanted to show my precious little brother, the one I wouldn't mind putting in my eyes, a good side of me. In reality, I was a useless older sister who was too exhausted from work every day to play with him. A pathetic, garbage sister who was obsessed with work and money and couldn't even properly buy him tteok or chapssal-tteok on his exam day. But—

"At least in the game, I want to show him something different."

In the game, I wanted to be a cool older sister. I moved my mouse over the match button. But I couldn't bring myself to click it and just stared at my trembling hand. Strange. The only part of me that was supposed to be disabled was my left leg.

…….

In the end, I hesitated for a long time and still couldn't press it.

"…I hate pain."

Having to borrow the cutter knife's power just to feel better was agonizing. It wasn't something I wanted to do—it was something I was forced into. I hated that. Getting flamed by others and then having to do it only made it more painful.

I wiped away the tears that kept leaking out.

"…I'll vent on the community."

Muttering that, I went into the community, made a new account, and created the same fixed nickname.

After posting that, I sniffled and browsed the community.

I saw posts saying my record was up and I was doing suicide shows or whatever. "…I didn't do anything." I came here hoping for some comfort, but now I was getting flamed for things I didn't even do. There were people calling me a craftsman and praising me, but the moment I started feeling depressed thinking there was nowhere left for me—

"…A question post?"

A post that purely asked a question caught my eye. I clicked it as if possessed.

I saw someone defending me. For the first time. Someone was defending me.

…….

I stared blankly at the post, then closed it.

"…More people like me than I thought."

With a faint smile, I went to YouTube. I decided. Today, I would do my first historic stream. I didn't have a virtual character or equipment or anything yet, but… people would probably like a stream from a former 125th Ranker.

So I installed the program, left only a notepad open, and started the stream.

Five minutes into the stream.

"…As expected, no one's coming in."

No one joined right away. Thanks to that, I was busy messing around in the notepad with random stuff. Even though no one was watching, just doing something other than gaming made me feel like my heart was healing.

Ten minutes into the stream.

People who were starting to chat slowly trickled in.

"…What should I even reply with?"

Since they were doubting my identity, I wrote a greeting in the notepad.

When I wrote a greeting and greeted them warmly, people responded well. But since many still wanted authentication, I cleanly showed my login screen.

Everyone seemed to like it.

"…Ah."

As expected, they asked about that, so my first stream suddenly turned into a suicide explanation stream. But—

"It's fun."

It was fun. The fact that I could talk and laugh with strangers like this was just enjoyable.

Thirty minutes into the first stream.

So many people had gathered that it was overwhelming.

"Wh-what……."

The chat window was scrolling so fast it was impossible to read. All I could see was a flood of simple emoticons.

"Hic…!"

Startled, I hiccuped in surprise. At the same time, the trash on the computer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠desk fell and cut the power to the PC.

"Hic! It was fun… hic! ……."

It was the perfect timing, since if I kept going I felt like the excited people would start flaming me. I opened the community on my phone to find out where all these sudden viewers had come from.

"So that's what happened……."

I felt relieved knowing it was written by someone who was genuinely curious about me.