“Then, can I take it that you will participate in the tournament?”
“Yes…”
“Hehe.”
Su Ah made a snorting sound as if she was in a good mood.
Is this what they call the flow of consciousness?
For some reason, I ended up calming Su Ah down, even turning on Discord.
As I fumbled around during the call, it had somehow become a given that I would participate in the tournament.
Is it that I have a personality that can be easily swayed?
Or is it that Su Ah is just good at managing people?
No matter how I think about it, it’s the latter.
The annoyance I felt was quickly overshadowed by Su Ah’s constant mentioning of ten million won, which dulled my resolve over time.
Ten million.
I can’t resist ten million.
“Okay, just fill out the application form in the format I sent you~.”
Su Ah urged me on.
Even though I was just saying this, I actually requested that a public announcement be made for the submission of the tournament application during the broadcast.
It’s not a hard task.
It’s simply a matter of writing up the content according to the template Su Ah sent.
“The broadcast start date, broadcast experience. Do I have any broadcast experience?”
[Monster rookie ㄷㄷㄷ]
[Has it only been three weeks since they started streaming and already hitting 3,000 viewers?]
[Who wouldn’t want to watch this?]
The broadcast start date would be roughly three weeks ago.
Naturally, the experience would also be three weeks.
Can I really call this experience?
A small doubt crossed my mind.
“Why not, three weeks is experience. The Su Ah from three weeks ago and the Su Ah now are different, aren’t they? And having ‘three weeks’ in the experience section has more impact, which is great. It looks cool to have ‘three weeks’ written there.”
I agree with the first part.
The ‘me’ from three weeks ago and the ‘me’ now feel completely different from the get-go.
Back then, everything felt awkward, not just the broadcast.
Now, it feels somewhat organized.
But as for the latter, well.
If I were a boss hiring employees, I wouldn’t have hired someone crazy enough to write “three weeks” as experience.
Still, if my broadcast senior Su Ah says this, it must be true.
Since this isn’t a company but a personal broadcasting platform.
“Please fill in your tier and when you started playing Eo War…”
I wrote down my current account tier, Master, and the chat immediately buzzed.
[Teacher, you really need to write your actual tier since this is a tournament.]
[Yeah, if a secondary character has a lower tier, it won’t be fun.]
[Is it finally time to see Mollu’s main account?]
“Um… I don’t have a main account.”
I do have a main account, but I don’t anymore.
But the viewers who had seen my skills and Su Ah wouldn’t believe it.
[How long will you keep up this facade?]
[Experience? ‘Three weeks’ Tier? ‘Challenger’]
“Teacher, you said you had a main account when you got targeted.”
“That was something I said in a fit of anger.”
No, it’s frustrating.
I’m a Challenger, and being called not a Challenger hurts.
It’s a past I couldn’t accept.
Thanks to that, things have wound up like this.
But I surely couldn’t write “Challenger” for my tier.
There was a section below the tier to enter one’s account nickname for verification.
If I wrote a nonexistent account’s nickname, nothing would come of it.
What do I do?
“Since the Watch will check the accounts under your name and your family’s name, you should just tell the truth…”
Su Ah was munching on snacks, crunching away while mumbling.
From her words, I found the answer.
“Perfect. I only have one account anyway.”
“No, what are you hearing? If you lie, it’ll be found out.”
“It’s not a lie.”
From my firm response, Su Ah seemed to feel something and closed her mouth.
Even though the viewers were constantly urging that I might not be able to participate in the tournament, the account verification system from Watch should prove my innocence.
I finished filling out the application form and submitted my participation request to the organizers.
“Alright, then…”
What should I do next?
I glanced quietly at the chat while stretching my words.
[Haha, anyway, saying you’re participating isn’t a lie, right?]
[Trust the teacher! Trust the teacher! Trust the teacher! Trust the teacher!]
[Is there still someone whose head isn’t working, believing Mollu?]
[Is this the end of the broadcast?]
[Don’t say any anxious words.]
[Whether you join the tournament or not is up to you, worrywarts for real.]
[What do we do now?]
[Since you’re applying for the Eo War tournament, shouldn’t we Eo War?]
[What?]
[Let’s build some camaraderie with those coming to the tournament.]
[No coercion on camaraderie.]
[Driving a plate?]
[Mollu only drives after drinking.]
[Why is this girl being anxious and saying nothing?]
…There were a few sharp-eyed people around.
What should I do next?
It’s the end of the broadcast.
“Teacher, I ordered food, so please just broadcast until I’ve finished eating. It’s lonely to eat alone.”
Not a chance.
Ignoring Su Ah, who was saying nonsensical things, I ended the broadcast without a word.
That’s the consequence of coming to my broadcast and shaking me up as she pleased.
Only I get to do that.
The chat of the turned-off broadcast.
Looking at the plethora of question marks and angry chats, I smiled contentedly.
*
– This stop is Sinlim, Sinlim Station. The doors to exit are on the left.
Has it been about 30 minutes since I boarded the rattling subway?
Upon hearing the robotic announcement, I opened my eyes.
As I exited the subway station, the sunlight made me squint.
What am I, a vampire?
Since I thought it would be hard in the morning, I scheduled the meeting for rather late in the afternoon, but here we are.
The sun is too bright.
Today’s outing is labeled a business trip.
Literally, I’m a career woman out for business purposes.
I momentarily daydreamed about it in my mind.
Saying it’s business doesn’t mean anything grand,
I simply came to meet an editor.
More accurately, a prospective editor.
When I asked Su Ah about YouTube editors, she said she went through an electronic contract online without ever meeting anyone.
When I asked her what she would do if the editor turned out to be unreliable or didn’t meet her expectations, she replied,
– “Then, you can just fire them and hire someone else.”
Hmm, that’s right.
What a scary woman…
That was my impression from her response, which came out naturally without the slightest hesitation.
In any case, the point was that you could easily find an editor without meeting them.
I thought it was amazing that this was possible in today’s world, but perhaps it’s because I’m an old-fashioned person that I personally couldn’t entrust work to someone without knowing their face.
After all, this person will be taking care of my other platform, YouTube.
Shouldn’t I at least know what kind of person they are?
I take pride in having an eye for people, to some extent.
If I share a meal or drink with someone and exchange a few words, I can usually get a feel for who they are.
Plus, by building camaraderie, they would be more inclined to put in more effort editing videos for me.
There’s a saying about giving an extra piece of nice rice cake to the one you dislike.
It’s not entirely wrong since it’s a proverb, but I believe that to good people, one should give an extra two pieces of nice rice cake instead.
I intend to be that good person.
Once I’ve put in the effort to select someone, I wouldn’t need to change people frequently.
Fortunately, the editor didn’t live far away.
If they lived in a foreign country or in a remote area far from Seoul, I would have opted for an electronic contract like Su Ah did.
I wanted to meet as soon as possible.
It would be better the sooner I could set up the YouTube channel.
In any case, since the editor was someone who would say yes to whatever I said, the appointment was settled quickly.
As a result, I had to take another day off from broadcasting.
Habitually checking the community, I found my name appearing in a few places.
There were small complaints about my irregular broadcasting schedule and requests to leave some notice about whether I would be broadcasting or not.
A notice, huh,
I guess I have to come up with some measures.
Leaving those who wait for me without any response seems too harsh.
Of course, it’s more interesting from my point of view to see the surprised reactions when I suddenly start broadcasting, though.
Ah, I’ve arrived.
As I was moving while looking at the community and pondering, I found myself at the rendezvous point.
A charming little café that isn’t too far from the station.
It was the place specified by the editor we agreed to meet halfway.
The white-painted walls and tables gave it a neat feeling.
There were only a few people, including the waitstaff, creating a quiet environment.
I ordered a coffee and sat down.
Except for the entrance, the café was made entirely of big glass, allowing me to see the outside scenery directly.
I had roughly 30 minutes until the scheduled time.
Checking the time, I sent a text.
It wasn’t to rush, but just out of curiosity.
– How far have you come?
Zing—
I received an immediate reply.
– I’m in front of the café.
Since it was my first time here and I was worried I would get lost, I had come early on purpose.
That’s why I had 30 minutes left until the appointment.
Yet, arriving right away?
Are they quite diligent?
They must be the type who comes ahead of time compared to the actual meeting time.
That’s a good thing.
While thinking this, I noticed a woman walking towards the café in the distance.
She was tall for a woman, a towering figure.
By my estimate, she would be about 175 cm.
Just as she entered the café, she swung her long hair and looked around as if searching for someone.
Could it be,
I had already informed the editor of my appearance via text.
Wearing a gray coat and ivory-colored pants,
these were the clothes I wore today.
The tall woman muttered something under her breath,
I think it was gray…
While observing her carefully,
our eyes met as she turned her head towards me.
Her eyes widened as if she spotted her target, and then she confidently walked over to me.
Thud thud—
Finally, the woman stood in front of me.
She appeared even taller up close.
Maybe it’s because I’m short.
The woman before me simply stared at me without saying a word.
Could she be the editor?
It would be nice if she at least said something.
It’s a bit intimidating when someone of such stature just stares at you.
As if she could hear my inner thoughts, the woman who was gazing at me opened her mouth.
“Mollu-nim?”
Her low voice resonated in a somewhat intimidating way, causing me to tremble slightly.
Don’t freak out.
