Chapter 164

Untangling misunderstandings and opening a new platform for discussion turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant task. Watching the lively chat window, I thought so.

“You’re talking about the character of a true macho man, but are you talking about someone who uses a brick for a pillow and jumps from anything under the third floor instead of using stairs? From the initial design, the character is flawed.”

… It seemed the Warrior users had some grievances.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s compromise a bit. The chat is not a space just for you alone. Especially those spamming ASCII art… that’s not how you use it indiscriminately. There’s a right time for it. I can’t even show you a demonstration.”

I wondered if my sincere appeal lacked power. The excessively noisy chat window didn’t change much.

Was it because I didn’t have a manager? Gathering 23,000 people in this small room, a bit of noise was natural, I supposed.

I changed the setting to allow only one chat entry every 120 seconds and looked at the last item on the ‘Topics to Address’ list.

Orthodox.

“Alright then, now that we’ve clarified the character defamation controversy. The last issue… is regarding Orthodox.”

But this… does it even need clarification?

“The complaints have been so numerous that I put it on the list, but what exactly should I explain here?”

Despite the slow mode, the chat speed was relentless, so I scrolled up a bit to halt it.

Finally, I started reading it bit by bit: What’s your relationship with him, who are you to teach a pro, how well did you help for him to advertise you like that, what controversy was even addressed, no matter how close you are, promoting yourself in an MVP interview is crossing the line…

A bit unfair, I thought.

“Um… first off, what I asked was to promote Rogues. That’s reasonable, isn’t it? Just asking you to try this character, that’s it. I didn’t ask him to change his name from Orthodox to Rogue or to play 10 matches as a Rogue daily.”

I tried to down the remaining mulled wine in my cup, only to realize it was already empty.

Was it sweet? It disappeared too quickly.

“Anyway, Revan contacted me… Orthodox asked about some tips for managing Rogues in the second underground. I gave him a few one-point lessons. So we began as an instructor and a student. We didn’t even become master and apprentice. Anyway, I’m glad he won. Woohoo.”

Thinking about it while I spoke, it seemed like a reason to hang a banner, like an academy announcing its top students… Perhaps.

I deleted the ‘Explanation Broadcast – 2 Issues Left Including Orthodox’ at the top of the screen and wrote ‘-Congratulations- Rogue Win! Rogue Revival Movement is Recruiting’ instead.

Yes, that looked nice.

The chat window, however, didn’t seem to share my sentiment.

“Hmm… there are still many people with complaints. How about we calm down while listening to some music?”

I reached for the ocarina that had always stood firmly in one corner of my desk. There were many spectators. It was a good stage.

“So, shall we take requests for the first song? I’ve improved a lot, so feel free to make a request without any worries.”

* * * *

National pride had always been an excellent means of garnering attention, regardless of the era or field. The degree varied according to the prominence of the field and the magnitude of its achievements, as well as the storyline.

Even if one won in the same Olympic event, more attention was naturally given to a player who, despite being pushed to the brink, won in a minor sport while reciting ‘I can do it’, compared to someone who won smoothly in Taekwondo.

In that sense, the national pride fostered by GP Hustler and Orthodox was nothing short of an overdose—a top-tier form of national pride.

Korea had gradually become a peripheral country in the realm of eSports, struggling to make it to the semifinals in any major VR game.

However, anyone of a certain age would remember.

Once, eSports in Korea held an overwhelming prominence befitting the originator’s status (excluding FPS games). When a foreign team won, the first question was always, ‘So how many Korean mercenaries did they have?’ Those were the days.

Therefore, it was natural for people to eagerly anticipate an event that would revive such memories.

Unfortunately, at least in the field of eSports, there hadn’t been even a minor chance to savor a bit of national pride.

In such a situation, a sudden winning announcement emerged.

A certain Korean team won the World Series of KoK, the most popular game worldwide (especially in Europe and the United States).

Additionally, it turned out that this team had barely made it to the finals as the last seed and, dramatically, entered the final match.

In the heart of the enemy’s territory, they silenced the spectators and, ultimately, commanded applause with an overwhelmingly stellar performance.

And all of this was achieved in the season when the team’s captain decided to retire.

In a short clip titled “Off the Record”, the captain was seen thanking his teammates by saying, ‘It seems like this will be my last career match. Thank you for letting me leave while receiving applause on a grand stage.’

To which a teammate responded, ‘Hyung, you can’t retire. We will make you win, and you can’t leave until the applause ends.’

Everyone’s attention was then drawn to GP Hustler.

The sponsoring parent company screamed with joy, the coach and manager hastily adjusted their stance by claiming, ‘We have always supported and encouraged the players’ creative strategies.’ It was soon revealed to be a lie, but that hardly mattered.

Meanwhile, what was Orthodox, the main focus of all this attention and the star of the party, doing?

“… Youngest.”

“Yes?”

“Has she always been like this?”

“Um… yes, I think so. Didn’t you watch her broadcasts? Or are you watching the live for the first time?”

“It’s not my first time… but I’ve mostly watched the edited versions. The ones where she plays as a rogue.”

“Oh… it’s a bit different. You’re talking about that ‘GetDevoured FanTube’, right? There, it’s almost like a cover scam.”

In his hotel room, making his final stay before returning home, he watched Lee Yena’s broadcast together with Bio.

Carrying on with the swirling attention, moving on to all-around flame throwing under the guise of explanations, she was now using it to play an ocarina.

“But still, this is… Ah, is she pretending like she invented the rogue and the 2-Underground herself, fearing no one would believe it? Should I just be straightforward and say it myself?”

A few words could earn her honor. Even Orthodox was prepared to nod in agreement at any time. Why wouldn’t she take that honor?

After all, she was a broadcaster.

If she just put the title ‘Mentor of the Champion’ in the broadcast title, the sheer attention would attract a massive number of viewers for at least a few days. During that time, she could showcase rogue gameplay, share stories about their adventures together—

Orthodox understood that this was how a typical broadcaster would grow their audience by drawing in even a few of the transient viewers.

But doing this—wasn’t it totally unrewarding to give a shoutout and post a link?

“Hmm. How is it? This is the piece I played on the first day… Do you think I’ve improved so much that you can’t recognize it? Eye-opening progress, remarkable improvement, a performance you want to keep hearing… Yes. Some of you are saying there are no chats like that… Just a moment. There. I played it.”

“… She’s just playing the ocarina because she wants to. Sometimes, she does that. Ah, it’s even more annoying because she actually got better.”

While answering, Bio busily tapped away on their smartphone. Orthodox tried hard to ignore the donation site that flashed on the screen momentarily.

“What’s wrong with the camera? She came out fine on it before.”

“This too, it’s always like this. Ah, why doesn’t she raise her head?”

The close-to-tradition first-person view of Lee Yena’s broadcast showed fingers fleetingly.

The camera was turned on in a huff right after seeing the donation message ‘Proxy performance controversy ㄷㄷ.’

Why she was so upset by that, no one could say.

‘Should I really send her a message.’

But Lee Yena wasn’t logged into either KoK or Discourse. Asking Revan might get him her phone number, but… asking for her number through someone else felt uncomfortable, for some reason.

Consequently, as he pondered and watched the broadcast, he found a certain kind of amusement in it.

From those urging, “Stop the nonsense and just play KoK”, to people filling the chat with reasons to bow her head, and even those who had given up everything and were spamming emoticons—the chat was full of such people.

There were donation messages trying their best to garner attention, demands, sharp remarks, advice, requests… and even those simply venting their desires. It was an atmosphere very much like a marketplace, chaotic enough to make one’s ears ring.

For Orthodox, who was not accustomed to watching internet broadcasts, it was a scene worthy of a frown.

“Hmm… It seems many people like KoK. Then shall we go with a KoK opening song for the next piece?”

Yet, in that atmosphere, the harmony created by Lee Yena continuing her performance and dialogue right at the center of the crowd without being swept away at all—brought forth a bizarre flavor unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

“Oh, won’t they remake that video? I think it’s time to remove that logger from the opening… Next time, I’ll post a suggestion on the official website forum, so please go and upvote it.”

It was then that even Orthodox, unknowingly, found himself quietly watching the broadcast as part of the audience.

“Now, with this, the explanation broadcast is all wrapped up.”

A slightly breathless, yet seemingly satisfied voice echoed out immediately after the third song’s performance. At a moment when it felt like she might pour another glass of wine, the view suddenly and sharply elevated—

then turned downward—

then elevated again.

『???』

『??』

『What’s going on』

『What’s this??』

『Love the ocarina』

『Ending the broadcast?』

『Explanation』

『Is KoK starting now?』

『So what’s your relationship with Orthodox, anyway?』

Realizing belatedly that this insane view was because the broadcaster had strapped the camera to her forehead, the viewers wondered what on earth this crazy girl was doing. But—

“Now that the explanation is over… I will take a moment to self-reflect.”

No one had anticipated that she would follow with such words.

Nor did they expect that the broadcast would suddenly turn off right afterward.

TL’s Corner:
There are people who go with the flow, and then, there are people like Yena who can surf against the flow and be unbothered.