A week passed after that day.
The Ed Cup had concluded successfully, and Mollu, who had taken part in the finale, was treated far too grandly to be considered “just a streamer.”
Though it was somewhat expected when she joined the pros in a match upon Richao’s request, the treatment she received went beyond that expectation.
Perhaps the result was beyond anyone’s imagination. The game’s outcome was truly shocking.
Indeed, Mollu had won the preliminary event. The final score was 2-1. Although she lost the second game to Richao, she triumphed again in the subsequent match, wrapping up the event.
Losing or winning a match is a normal occurrence. Given that top-tier pros were mixed into various teams, it was plausible that Richao’s team could lose.
What people focused on, however, wasn’t the win or loss itself but the content of the match. Specifically, they were astonished by Mollu’s performance amidst the pros.
After Richao’s interview, people took interest in what he referred to as the “Korean Samurai.”
This interest intensified when it was revealed that the “Korean Samurai,” was not a “he,” but a “she.” Moreover, she was also a top player and commentator from the Korean server.
It was indeed rare for a female gamer to be acknowledged by top-tier players, and she turned out to be incredibly attractive as well.
It would have been strange if she didn’t gain attention.
Still, while most people took interest in Mollu, many weren’t entirely convinced about her skill that Richao endorsed.
After all, it did seem far-fetched. If this were a novel, it would likely be criticized for lacking plausibility.
Thus, people were skeptical. They thought, “Sure, she may be good, but can she really hold her own against pros? Wasn’t her victory against Richao in the ranked game just a matter of luck?”
These doubts were resolved, and the crowd erupted into excitement.
This young woman from the East didn’t falter against the pros. In fact, in some areas, she even seemed to dominate.
It would be hard to argue that the pros weren’t taking the event seriously when their expressions were so intense and the level of gameplay so high, even though it was an exhibition match.
Of course, it wasn’t a team game where pros coordinated and progressed together; it was mainly focused on combat. Considering the pros came from different teams and even different countries, it would’ve been unrealistic to expect any real synergy given the language barriers.
Still, despite all this, their individual skills were on full display. Mollu fit right into this group naturally.
The fans, who cherished this game, welcomed another top player and were thrilled to learn that she was also a Korean broadcaster.
– Do Koreans see gameplay like this every day?
– Damn, I’ve got to check out her streams!
Mollu’s broadcasts began attracting large numbers of foreigners.
—
*
Rest is always sweet. Even sweeter when it’s been a long time coming.
But all rest must eventually come to an end. After all, if rest became the norm, it would cease to be rest.
And so, what should I do at the end of this rest? As always, I had a broadcast scheduled for today.
– Mollru is broadcasting!
“An appropriate gaming broadcast.”
[Mollha]
[Welcome back!]
[Hello!]
[Hi, 😄😄]
[I missed Mollru and cried ㅠㅠ]
[Hello there]
[Mollha, please acknowledge 1st try]
[你好]
The audience quickly filled the room, greeting me. About two-thirds of the comments were in Korean, a quarter in English, and the rest in Chinese.
It was due to the Ed Cup. Through the event, I inadvertently gained a name in various countries and amassed quite a few international fans.
It felt like endless requests for handshakes. I’ve already lost count of how many times I’ve been asked if I use social media platforms like FaceBook or StarGram.
While I do have a fan café as a communication channel, it seems insufficient. It’s true; for those abroad, it’s not the easiest platform to access.
Still, I wasn’t interested in starting any social media channels. And uploading emotionally-charged pictures of my daily life? That was even less appealing.
To be exact, it was just bothersome. YouTube alone would suffice, wouldn’t it? There are experts who handle such things. Something I should discuss with Si-young later.
“Hmm…”
Without saying much, I turned on the game. It was Eo War. I hadn’t decided how long I’d play.
I might only play a few rounds or possibly several in a row. Nothing was set, but this game always made a great warm-up for a broadcast. Most viewers in the room wanted to see it anyway.
This was the first broadcast in three days since my last stream after the Ed Cup.
I participated in the event, wasn’t a professional gamer, but still received treatment on par with one. I also earned a significant amount of money.
Though I didn’t enter the tournament to earn money, it was certainly an added benefit. Commentating alone brought in a substantial amount, so participating directly in the event must have earned me quite a considerable sum. Upon seeing the unrealistic numbers reflected in my bank account, I felt slightly inflated.
One could say I became more relaxed—or less diligent. I streamed whenever I felt like it, such as when I was bored or needed someone to talk to.
Actually, the longer a streamer takes a break, the easier it is to be forgotten—not only casual viewers, but even loyal ones tend to lose interest over time.
But this didn’t apply to me. It might sound egotistical, but my broadcast is irreplaceable.
The reason monopolies are terrifying.
I provide what these viewers want: someone who loves games, plays them well, has a pleasant voice, and is an attractive female broadcaster. That’s me, and it’s not something anyone can easily replicate. Now, with the influx of international viewers, the situation has only grown.
As a crude saying goes, once you become famous, even your bowel movements will be cheered. Even if I streamed once a month, the audience would surely continue to come.
While thinking about this, I instinctively chose a character. A sniper. Recently, I had been playing the swordsman too much. The foreign viewers had been especially eager to see the swordsman, and I had spent ten consecutive games playing that character.
[wow korean sniper]
[Wildland sniper Mollu on ㄷㄷㄷㄷ]
[Why do they always attach “Korean” in front? Does it make it cooler or something?]
[The broadcaster is Korean, right?]
[These guys just like Koreans ㅇㅇ]
[Because Korea’s technically the 51st state of the USA?]
[lollololololol]
With the sniper locked in, the game began. This was the first match of the day, and I was still loosening up my fingers when a familiar username caught my eye.
-BEG Rizhao
“Here he goes again…”
[Chinese Yuksu infiltrating the gallery ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[Oh, so you’ve already made a move on her?]
[Mollu’s body emits pheromones… Very potent ones.]
[She doesn’t discriminate between men and women—she has that effect on everyone ㅇㅇ, be careful.]
[Already 50,000 people in this room have fallen for her, it’s already too late!]
[Mysterious wealthy Chinese sniper arrives]
[The woman who turns pro gamers into Yuksu snipers ㄷㄷ]
[Richao is so persistent]
[@Rizhao, we’ve caught you!]
[If he’s watching the stream, should we ban him?]
I gave him a forceful kick to prevent disruptions. We could release him after the game.
After the Ed Cup ended, Richao would often show up when I streamed Eo War.
At first, it seemed like a coincidence, but recently, I was sure he was purposefully sniping me. My viewer list, clearly visible evidence, supported this suspicion.
I didn’t know the reason. Was he still regretful about losing 2-1? He hadn’t returned to his home country and was still logging into the Korean server whenever he had a chance.
As for the sniping itself, I had no real complaints. After all, I was once a sniper too. Therefore, I didn’t have the right to criticize the act.
Still, I could say this much.
“Persistent men aren’t attractive, you know. Did you know that?”
[Huh]
[Richao’s gay…]
[Richao, stop being such a creep!]
[Even if I were a woman, I’d be annoyed by a pig like him ㅇㅇ;]
[But he’s rich!]
[The broadcaster is rich too?]
[Oh]
[Persistent men aren’t attractive… I’ll write that down…]
[Even if Mollu’s fans act cool and don’t get clingy, wouldn’t they still be called ‘cool chuns’ anyway?]
The waiting time ended, and I took control of advantageous high ground, surveying the battlefield.
In the distance, I could see enemy agents rushing out. Among them was Richao.
An assassin. He didn’t even carry a common dagger. His light-weight setup was obvious—he planned to move swiftly through the battlefield, targeting someone. And that someone was clearly me.
Through my scope, I aimed at Richao. I had already zoomed in. With a little more distance, I’d have a perfect headshot.
Like a spider waiting patiently in its web for prey, I calmly waited. This was one of my go-to strategies since becoming this body. I had failed with it so few times it could be counted on one hand.
Bang!
As if to prove that point, the satisfying gunshot echoed, and the kill log flashed.
It was a headshot. The anti-material rifle instantly blew Richao’s head off. Did he really think I’d let him get away that easily?
Richao withdrew, and the true battle began with consecutive gunfire.
