Episode 47: Clash

There was a BJ who went by MoonlightStarlightVibes.

She was both a BJ and a YouTuber, and her content was mostly the outdoors—car camping, camping trips, travel. I couldn't claim to know the finer details, but something in her sensibility and her taste must have lined up with theirs, because I'd heard she ranked as a very high pick on sites of that persuasion. They'd swarm her videos in a pack, pump the view count, hammer the like button, leave nice comments, and so on. Then one day, by pure chance, a question about her ideal type came up on stream.

The problem was that one of the two ideal types MoonlightStarlightVibes mentioned in passing happened to be me.

I heard about it in the middle of a broadcast. Viewers with loose lips deliver dozens of scraps of gossip and flying rumors in a single day, so I noted it and let it slide without much thought. Whether they simply disliked that attitude of mine, or whether the mere mention from a BJ they adored was enough to snap their composure, ugly talk about me started circulating on that site. And by the time I had a firm grip on the facts, the incident had already happened.

It was the Sunday that announced the second week of August.

I'd been off ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cam streams for a while, so I put up a notice that today would be a cam broadcast and got myself thoroughly ready. All that really amounted to was checking the lights and the outfit. Still, thanks to the mask, I didn't have to wear makeup yet, and that part was genuinely nice.

Ever since the Horse Girls ad stream, it felt like a lot more viewers had been arriving from Tweet TV. No—not just a feeling. You could safely call it fact. The average viewer count had climbed by about a hundred.

From what I'd heard, that broadcast had been edited and donated onto the streams of people who mained the Horse Girls raising game. And this many viewers had come looking after seeing it.

Anyway, the surest way to shut up a bickering chat was still to turn the cam on. I held still at the center of the frame, drew one deep breath, settled my voice, and officially opened today's broadcast.

"Hello! Fourth-year reservist, the god-given golden hand of the gacha world, the multilane player covering both jungle and mid, master of voice impressions—this is Hani!"

In that instant, the screen came on. A low angle, looking up from below. Everyone knew that meme—the huge, dewy-eyed cat from Shrek. Right now, I looked exactly like it.

"When did I ever say I was doing a cat cosplay? Honestly, you perverts!"

I pulled my face back from the screen and showed off today's outfit: short black dolphin shorts, and an easy white tee that left a sliver of midriff bare. The way it seemed as if it might show through, and then didn't, only stirred the imagination harder.

For the viewers losing their minds, I twisted just slightly and showed off the dizzying line of my side, the one shaped by Balanced Figure 3. Water Balloons started bursting as hard as the chat.

And it was right then. A wall of text appeared, packed to the character limit—a long post that seized every eye in the room.

"Uh... hold on. It's so long I'm having trouble following it right away."

"Hmm... I read it. By any chance, are you a feminist?"

"A broadcast like this? Am I doing anything that's a legal problem?"

I asked again because I genuinely didn't understand, and the thoroughly worked-up viewer fired back.

"......"

My head rang, dizzy. What in the world was this person saying? In summer, people dressed exactly like I was now were everywhere you looked. Of course you'd dress up a little more for work or an important occasion, but for a walk around the neighborhood, or a quick run to the convenience store, it was an outfit you could throw on as comfortably as you liked. Granted, the figure I'd upgraded through my abilities sat well above an ordinary person's standard, so I knew it looked fairly provocative. I acknowledged that much and explained it calmly. The other side was beyond reason.

"Hm? I didn't even put on makeup."

"No, look closely. I knew I'd be wearing a mask anyway, so I couldn't be bothered and didn't put any on at all."

I shoved my face right up against the cam and told the feminist viewer, who was forcing the point, to look carefully and check. Transparent Skin 2 left me with a clean, lively, pleasant complexion even without a scrap of makeup. Once they confirmed it, the feminist viewer went quiet for a moment.

"And I don't even know what women's rights have to do with me. I'm satisfied with how things are, and I couldn't really tell you how unfair it is between men and women. Maybe if we were talking about my mother's generation."

"Benefits? What benefits have I enjoyed?"

The feminist viewer launched into one airy, pie-in-the-sky speech after another. Expanded support housing for single women, women's quotas, women's bonus points, the Constitutional Court ruling of nonconformity that struck at the abortion ban—the more I heard, the more my head spun.

"Excuse me. I listened, and I thought it over carefully, and no matter how I turn it over, there isn't a single benefit I've actually received. I signed the lease on this place entirely with my own money, none of that. Same goes for women's quotas or bonus points, and of course I'm never going to have an abortion either."

"......"

I'd rather deal with a pack of malicious viewers. A blockhead like this was impossible. Fully brainwashed by their own logic, to the point that conversation itself didn't work. So I explained that much, and since they were interfering with the broadcast, I politely gave notice that I was going to force-remove them.

"Yeah, yeah. Do plenty of fine women's rights activism, and I hope it goes wonderfully for you. Here's hoping you don't get far."

With someone you can't reason with, a kick is the best solution in the end. I dealt with the one oddball that way, then, pouring cold sweat, barely managed to salvage a broadcast atmosphere that had gone completely to pieces. And with the best effort I could muster, I just barely brought today's stream to a close.

He must have been monitoring, because the moment I ended the broadcast, Yoonjae got in touch. His voice was deadly serious.

"Huh......"

It was a truly absurd story. The feminist who had dragged so much aggro today was from a cafe called Women's Era, and the instant they were force-removed, they logged into the cafe and spread every kind of malicious rumor about me. That, I was told, had set a complete fire under the image of me that MoonlightStarlightVibes's ideal-type comment had already soured. And in the fallout, my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠YouTube channel was being torn apart right now.

"......"

It was true that I'd let my guard down a little amid the steady growth. That was why, unlike the early days, I'd been showing a more play-it-safe side. If that feminist had shown up even a month earlier, I would have gone to war ready to grab them by the hair, demanding who they thought they were to stick their nose in.

Figures... if you just sit still, the world decides you're a joke.

I was furious. It had been a truly long time since I'd taken a hit to the back of the head hard enough to leave me ringing. So I made up my mind.

Fine. Let's see who wins.

Starting today, it was war.