Chapter 52: The Challenge of Overlapping Worlds

While grinding solo ranked games, I finally reached Diamond 1. Feeling hungry, I ordered budae jjigae and checked my follow list.

[Being Chased by a Monster]

That was Bunnyrun’s stream title.

Is she playing a horror game?

Curious, I clicked on her stream, only to find her playing Eternal World solo ranked games.

Maybe she was warming up with a match before switching to a horror game.

“Summer’s coming soon. Should I play some horror games like Bunnyrun?”

It’s only July; why not wait until August?

Can you even handle horror games, Yurim? Also… your follow list looks so empty.

Don’t you watch other streams?

I glanced at my follow list.

It consisted of Moss, PaePae, PangPang, Bunnyrun, Gajunsik, and Rojon—pretty sparse compared to the typical viewer’s list.

“I do watch other streams.”

But you don’t follow them? Isn’t it inconvenient to search for them every time?

“That’s why I usually just watch streams that show up at the top. I also browse by category.”

Like the Repeating Student Romance category, the Excel Busters category, or the Fantasy Life category.

It feels good to see my own games featured in the platform’s categories.

Maybe one day, I’ll make time to play them again.

Who have you watched recently? Not the ones you follow, but someone else.

Not from my follow list?

I hesitated for a moment before replying slowly.

“That’s a secret. I’ll just say I’ve been watching Vtuber streams lately.”

Wait, what? Vtubers? Do you even watch those?

“I’m a Vtuber myself, you know.”

Some viewers clearly had terrible memories. I might need to create a brain-training game soon.

Ding! A donation notification popped up.

[OutdoorStreamsWhenAgain donated ₩100,000]
–(10-second donation clip of an outdoor stream from Han Yurim’s MeTube)

Even now, AR technology felt impressive.

It might not be as advanced as VR, but its level of realism was unimaginable just a few years ago.

Would it be possible to make a game out of this?

I should look into the technology more next time.

I popped open a plum-flavored highball I’d prepared to go with the budae jjigae and spoke.

“Thank you for the ₩100,000, OutdoorStreamsWhenAgain.

I probably won’t be doing any outdoor streams for a while.”

Still, a donation of ₩10,000 per second? That’s practically telling people not to use the donation feature—but they do it anyway.

I opened the settings and increased the video donation rate to ₩100,000 per second.

That should stop it for good.

While at it, I opened my internet browser and displayed my newly updated MeTube channel on the screen.

“Please check out my MeTube channel, too!”

Finally made it, huh? SMH
Already over 50,000 subscribers! LOL
What about a fan cafe?

“I’ll think about it.”

I wasn’t particularly fond of closed communities like fan cafes, but if viewers genuinely wanted it, I wouldn’t rule it out.

Ding dong. My food delivery had arrived.

I brought the budae jjigae to my desk and opened Bunnyrun’s MeTube channel.

“Let’s watch this together while I eat.”

I opened Bunnyrun’s MeTube channel on my stream screen and shifted my focus to work on my secondary monitor.

The first task was to check my email. Among the numerous business inquiries, one particular subject caught my attention.

Subject: Hello, Han Yurim. Reaching out regarding game streaming permissions.

Game streaming? I’d never prohibited it outright, so it was the first time someone actually sought permission for it.

Who could it be?

Curious, I checked the sender and immediately understood.

Sender: Novellive

Novellive is a Vtuber agency under Novella, the company that developed Eternal World.

For companies, the rules are different from those for individuals.

Independent streamers are essentially self-employed, giving them a lot of freedom.

However, companies don’t have that same luxury.

Actions that might be acceptable for individuals can lead to complications when undertaken by corporations.

Game streaming falls into that category.

While it’s usually fine, there are cases where it can lead to legal disputes.

For this reason, corporate Vtubers are limited to streaming games explicitly approved by their company, which must secure permission from the developers first.

Interestingly, although Novella’s headquarters is in Japan, this email was in Korean.

Well, Novella is technically a global company with only its headquarters in Japan, so it makes sense.

Novellive operates under the same structure.

I replied, granting permission for them to stream my games, and closed my inbox.

With that done, only the most “important” task remained—the equivalent of saving the strawberry on a cake for last: browsing community forums.

I opened the VR Broadcasting Gallery and turned on the page navigation function.

Let’s see… Page 103 should do it.

When the page loaded, I immediately spotted the last post I had read:

[Han Yurim is the perfect superior version of Arina.]

This level of precise control—I even scare myself sometimes.

I leisurely scrolled through posts, savoring the discussion.

[Cringy mental breakdown roleplay is vomit-worthy]

[Pusik is lost in the labyrinth again]

[All of Han Yurim’s games are just rip-offs LOL]

[Han Yurim finally made a MeTube channel]

[Bunnyrun has gone soft lately and is boring now]

[Isn’t it about time for the platform-wide tournament?]

After reading all the posts up to the first page, I nodded in satisfaction.

Nothing out of the ordinary today.

Now, should I browse the Vtuber Broadcasting Gallery?

[Han Yurim is the perfect superior version of Arina.]

Han Yurim is two years younger, better at gaming, and has a better voice.

Their broadcast styles are similar, but Yurim’s tools are superior.

Is there even a reason to watch Arina?

– Arina is on cam, and Yurim is a Vtuber. Arina is the superior version. You Vtuber simps need to sit down.
– Arina barely streams on cam—most of the time, it’s just an illustration.
– Still, someone who doesn’t even show her face can’t compare to Arina.
– Arina feels natural, but Yurim seems like she’s acting.
└ Hmm.

Arina, who had been ego-searching through the community, bit her lip in frustration.

Recently, a certain type of post had been appearing more frequently on the forums.

Arina sighed and gave the post a downvote before continuing her exploration of the VR Broadcasting Gallery.

Han Yurim, Han Yurim, Han Yurim.

Wherever she looked, it was all about Han Yurim.

For a gallery that generally shunned Vtubers, this was quite unusual.

Not that it mattered much to Arina. She was never the star of the VR Broadcasting Gallery to begin with.

Becoming the gallery’s main topic as a female streamer required Bunnyrun-level superstar status, so it wasn’t surprising.

Thus, Arina had no reason to be upset about others being mentioned more often.

But the issue was that whenever Han Yurim was mentioned, Arina’s name would inevitably be dragged into the conversation too.

Browsing the VR Broadcasting Gallery had always been one of Arina’s hobbies.

Although she was a well-established streamer, her content didn’t align with the gallery’s tastes, so she was rarely brought up.

This disconnect made reading the gallery’s posts a unique form of entertainment for her.

At least, that used to be the case.

Now, her name popped up everywhere.

Sometimes, her past statements were even ridiculed, making the gallery an unbearable place to browse.

After scrolling through several posts about Han Yurim, Arina finally glanced at the clock and closed the community page.

It was time to stream.

[If you’re below Challenger, stop breathing.]

The stream title sparked an influx of viewers, and the chat exploded with repetitive messages:

“Finally, I can breathe again!”

“Take fewer breaks if you’re a streamer!”

“My world is finally ‘moving’ again!”

For most streamers, such spammy comments might have been unwelcome, but Arina pretended not to notice and began chatting casually.

<CamerOn has donated 1,000 KRW.>
– Cam on.

A familiar donation from a regular appeared. It was almost like a recurring character in her streams.

“Cam? Sure.”

Arina fiddled with her settings, turned on the camera for exactly one second, and then switched it off again.

The angle showed only her keyboard, with no glimpse of her face.

“There, it’s on.”

The chat lit up with laughter.

“LOL, what a piece of work!”

“That was generous by her standards!”

Watching their amused reactions, Arina frowned slightly.

Streaming without the camera had one advantage: no need to control her facial expressions.

She exhaled quietly and continued her broadcast.

People wear masks every day. The difference is simply in how thick those masks are.

No one lives without a mask.

Streamers, in particular, magnify this trait.

A streamer has their “broadcast voice.”

If you’ve ever filmed yourself, you’ll know that the way you perceive yourself differs from how you appear on camera.

Specifically, everything gets diminished when seen through a lens—your actions, your voice, everything.

That’s why streamers exaggerate their movements and raise their vocal pitch, creating a more natural-seeming presence for their audience.

For a streamer, living with at least two masks was the norm.

Adding another one didn’t seem like a stretch.

In Arina’s case, beyond the standard streamer mask, she also wore the “troublemaker” mask.

In Vtuber terms, it was akin to playing the “bratty tease” character archetype.

Of course, she had adapted it to better suit Korean sensibilities, but the core concept was unmistakably similar.

It wasn’t surprising, then, that Arina’s name always came up alongside Han Yurim’s.

On the surface, they seemed to share many similarities.

<OO has donated 1,000 KRW.>
– A guy who does what he wants without trying to dress it up.

“Streaming should feel as natural as possible. If you try to force a concept, people will notice.”

“LOL, bold statement!”

“So true!”

Donations continued to flow.

<CatLeaf has donated 100,000 KRW.>

– Is that so?

Seeing the nickname, Arina’s eyebrow twitched.

CatLeaf was a well-known viewer in her community, someone who used a cat-eared avatar and often donated large sums.

Essentially, they were the unofficial “chairman” of her fanbase.

Most of her regular viewers knew them because of their significant contributions to the stream.

‘That person… lately, I’ve been seeing them in Han Yurim’s chat a lot.’

Every time she checked Han Yurim’s stream out of curiosity, CatLeaf was there, dropping their usual 100,000 KRW donation.

Recently, they had been noticeably absent from her own streams.

It annoyed her, but she didn’t let it show.

Unlike platforms like Mirinae, V-TV required streamers to maintain a friendly, equal relationship with their audience.

Making a big deal about so-called “VIP viewers” could alienate others.

“Thanks for the 100,000 KRW. I’ll make good use of it.”

Her measured reaction was just the right amount.

Arina was beginning to feel she had navigated the stream well enough for the day when another notification popped up.

<OO has donated 13,000 KRW.>
– (Full compilation of Han Yurim’s Thierry highlight reel)

Her expression stiffened, but thankfully, she was off-camera. It wouldn’t show.

“Whoa!”

“This is insane.”

“Even her opponent’s a Challenger. The skill gap is just on another level.”

Han Yurim and Arina shared many traits.

Both were female Challenger-level players—a rarity in itself.

Both specialized in urban core positions, uncommon for women.

Both had unique playstyles that drew attention.

Both cultivated relaxed, casual streaming vibes.

And both leaned into mischievous personas that bordered on “troublemaker” territory.

These similarities naturally resulted in overlapping audiences.

Of course, Han Yurim’s growing popularity meant she was drawing viewers from nearly every streamer, but Arina felt the impact the most.

While some others, like “PaePae,” had experienced minor dips in viewership, they could still rely on their core fanbase to return when they streamed.

Arina’s situation, however, was different.

Even her most loyal viewers—like CatLeaf—had started drifting to Han Yurim’s streams.

It wasn’t just noticeable. It was glaring.

The chat buzzed with excitement over Han Yurim’s highlight reel.

Arina could confidently say that every one of her viewers likely followed Han Yurim, too.

Awkwardly reacting to the video donation, she decided to pivot.

She quickly launched Eternal World to shift the stream’s focus.

Sticking with “Just Chatting” felt risky.

In the game lobby, she selected her usual position—urban core—and queued up for a match.

Ku-kung.

The queue popped almost immediately.

‘That was fast.’

Something felt off, but once the match started, it was too late to turn back.

The game moved straight into the ban-pick phase.

Arina banned the current overpowered character and locked in her main pick.

Then her opponent locked in their character.

Thierry.

…E02?

No way.

Thierry?

“That’s Han Yurim! LOL.”

“I just came from her stream—it’s definitely her!”

The chat confirmed her suspicions. It was really Han Yurim.

Arina clenched her teeth.

There was no way.

No way she could lose.