Chapter 41: Accident!!!

“Wow, this is no joke, huh?”

[Legendary.]

[A masterpiece, truly.]

“Can you even hit these notes? Just watching makes me dizzy.”

The cascade of notes was overwhelming. Despite Kazuha singing a ballad, the rhythm on screen felt more like an intense punk rock.

Cracking my knuckles, I dove into the chaos of notes with sharp precision, clearing the stage flawlessly.

[What is this, a machine? LOL.]

“Your physical skill makes this fun to watch.”

[This… is the true essence of rhythm games?]

The feedback wasn’t bad at all. Riding the wave, I moved on to the next stage.

After a well-received performance, Kazuha advanced to the final stage—a performance that would determine her debut.

To secure her place, she decided on an image transformation, performing a bold and edgy hip-hop number.

Kazuha’s boldness and stage presence shone as she tackled an irregular, unpredictable rhythm with ease.

“Wow, she cut her hair. I don’t really like short hair, though.”

[Why’d she go for a short cut? LOL.]

“Don’t worry, it’s just a character; it’ll grow back fast!”

“Not bad, though.”

After clearing about five more stages, the story concluded.

Kazuha, now an artist recognized by everyone, was performing in front of a packed crowd.

Tears welled in her eyes as she sang for her fans.

After the performance, she approached me backstage, her eyes glistening with tears of gratitude.

• “Thank you…”

Kazuha’s radiant smile was captured in a single photo that made its way into the gallery, marking the end of the story.

“That was quicker than I expected—just over an hour. Reviews said each character’s story would take about two hours.”

“You just played too well, LOL.”

“I’ll miss Kazuha… truly a legendary idol!”

The viewers were clearly enjoying it, so I figured I could keep going.

Looking at the three newly unlocked characters—a blonde, a silver-haired girl, and a redhead—I weighed my options.

“I’m leaning towards the red-haired girl. She’s got that rebellious vibe, like she’d say, ‘Hah? I don’t need your help.’”

Her name was Karen. Setting Karen as the next idol to nurture, I dove into her backstory.

Just as I was getting immersed, I heard a familiar voice.

<“KazuhaIsLife” donated 10,000 won!>

• “So, you’re abandoning Kazuha? I thought you said you’d stick with her forever!”

“Uh, excuse me? Kazuha’s journey is complete. We need to focus on someone new.”

[So heartless.]

[Kazuha is probably waiting for her new single.]

[How can you abandon your idol like this?]

“Didn’t you guys mock me before I started playing? Look at you now, all obsessed.”

It was hilarious to see my viewers so engrossed in the game, despite their initial resistance.

Suddenly, another donation popped up.

<“KarenFan” donated 30,000 won!>

• “Our Karen is adorable, isn’t she?”

“Wow, Karen does seem cuter all of a sudden. Let’s dive back into Karen’s story!”

Then another one.

<“NumberOneBrideKazuha” donated 50,000 won!>

• “Kazuha.”

“Kazuha! I missed you! You’re the only one for me!”

[This is dizzying.]

[So this is why people get into selling anime-style content, huh?]

[Big spenders with suspiciously deep pockets…]

[Look at the host slyly reacting differently to egg on donations. Not their first rodeo, huh? LOL.]

[“Victory for the ‘I-don’t-know’ side.”]

“I need to get Karen a stylist, but I’m short on funds. Guess she’ll have to re-wear last time’s outfit… Oh, wow! A generous donation so Karen can have pretty clothes! I’ll make sure she debuts as an idol, no problem!”

And so, like a sycophant, I flitted about, appeasing the whims of my viewers.

<“PapiLover” donated 10,000 won!>

• “Sir, could you check Discord for a moment?”

It was the same cheerful donation sound, but seeing that name immediately brought me back to reality, like a cold splash of water.

I’d been too hyped.

Unintentionally, my energy had spiked, but who wouldn’t get excited when receiving a sizable donation?

I checked Discord. While I’d been busy nurturing idols, PapiLover had left a message asking for some practice help.

That was 40 minutes ago. After several unanswered messages, they had resorted to finding me via my stream.

Clearing my throat, I called PapiLover.

“Hello? Can you hear me, Papi?”

“Yes, hehe.”

PapiLover, typically reserved and soft-spoken, rarely says more than a word or two, even during team orders.

I’d spent considerable effort helping her improve this.

But now, her usually calm response was laced with unmistakable amusement.

“Please pretend you didn’t see that.”

“See what?”

“My watching your stream.”

“Won’t it get clipped anyway?”

“Still…”

“I thought your groveling like a lackey was kind of cute.”

“Sigh…”

This wasn’t good. If this continued, my authority as a team captain would crumble.

That authority was directly tied to my ability to give effective commands.

And if my authority collapsed, so would our team’s chances of victory. It’s not because I was embarrassed. Definitely not.

After firmly warning PapiLover, I helped her with her practice.

“Perfect. If everything goes as planned, victory is guaranteed. Just stick to what we practiced. Stick to it.”

The big day arrived.

During the final review, our coach, Jackie, opened calmly, and the team responded with energy and confidence.

Their voices brimmed with determination.

Good, our chances of winning were razor-sharp.

During the pick-ban phase, Jackie, who had stayed up all night analyzing the opponent’s strategy, took charge.

“Ban the wizard.”

“Got it.”

“The opponent will ban the swordsman. Yes, there it is.”

Right on cue, the swordsman was banned. Jackie, unfazed, moved to the next step.

“Ban the bard. Then pick the barbarian first.”

“Understood.”

As team captain, I took the first pick and followed Jackie’s call to select the barbarian.

“Let’s smash them all!”

The barbarian—a hulking figure with a giant axe and a menacing expression—loomed on the screen.

In the past, I used to like this over-the-top macho character, but now, it just made me cringe.

The excessively detailed muscles and grotesquely realistic skin texture were just plain unsettling.

Could you move your face out of the way?

The picks continued.

A balanced composition took shape: a straightforward damage dealer, a scout specialized in exploration, and a medic dedicated to supporting the barbarian.

One tank, one damage dealer, and one support. The opposing team mirrored a similar setup.

“Everything’s going as expected so far,” Jackie remarked.

It was just as outlined in his pre-match briefing, perfectly matching one of the scenarios he had predicted.

His analytical skills were truly impressive. Even as a coach for a second-tier team, his professional background was undeniable.

In team games, pick-ban phases are pivotal enough to determine victory or defeat.

Jackie clearly understood this and had meticulously prepared for it.

My throat felt dry.

It seemed I was unconsciously tense. Being so close to winning, it was understandable.

I grabbed the water bottle beside me to quench my thirst.

As I set it back down on the desk, disaster struck.

The bottle slipped from my hand, spilling water from its open lid.

Directly below the cascade of water? The computer tower.

Ah, I was screwed.

I watched the scene unfold in slow motion, thanks to my heightened perception.

The computer, drenched in water, hummed and stuttered before shutting off entirely.

No way.

This wasn’t just a stream; this was during a tournament.

I couldn’t let my team down.

Frantically, I began cleaning up, wiping away the water as fast as I could.

Restarting the computer took nearly two minutes—long enough for the match to have started.

But that wasn’t the only problem.

As the computer powered back on, the fan whirred violently, and the monitor flickered.

Would it even fully boot up?

If worse came to worst, I’d have to inform my teammates and rush to the nearest PC café.

There’d be risks involved, but it was better than nothing.

Whirr-

Thankfully, the computer booted up quickly, and I hurriedly rejoined the game.

Due to the sudden shutdown, the system began recovering all previously running programs.

Both the game and Discord reopened almost simultaneously, and the frantic voices of my teammates greeted me.

“Molru? Molru? Molru! Where did you go? We need to swap!”

“No! It’s too late!”

“Something must’ve bugged out!”

“Nothing we can do! Let’s adjust our comp with what we have!”

The chaos was palpable, but Jackie managed to steady himself and make the best possible call.

When I finally returned to the game screen, the sight was horrifying.

The match had begun.

According to the plan, I should have been an Outlaw or an Assassin.

Instead, I found myself controlling a hulking, muscle-bound Barbarian.