Chapter 54 – An Unprecedented Offer and a New Path

“Yuseong, wake up.”

“Hmm?”

A gentle voice roused me from my sleep. I lifted my heavy eyelids and saw Moonhwa looking down at me.

Her gaze was endlessly warm, and her lips carried a soft smile. Like a lover waking me up in the morning, she gently shook my shoulder.

“What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“It’s already that late?”

I must have been completely out. I slept so deeply, like the dead. I got up, folded my blanket, and headed to the bathroom.

After washing up and stepping into the living room, I saw Moonhwa and Hyesung waiting for me at the dining table.

“Come and eat.”

“Yeah.”

Sitting down, I looked at the table—an entire feast was laid out.

Why are there so many side dishes? Even on a celebration day, people wouldn’t eat this much.

Wait a minute, didn’t Moonhwa say she can’t cook?

Then this must be Hyesung’s doing.

Impressive. He’s not just a streamer—he could be a chef.

“Why is there so much food? It looks amazing. Who made it?”

“A personal chef visits every week to stock up on side dishes. Eat up.”

“Oh… I see. Thanks for the meal.”

So there’s a chef. Good thing I didn’t blurt out anything stupid.

If I had started talking about Hyesung’s cooking skills or something unnecessary, it would have made the situation awkward.

Right. There must be a housekeeper too.

How else would a busy person like her manage a place this big?

For a moment, I forgot Moonhwa was a chaebol and thought from my own perspective.

“Yuseong, I have something to talk about. Can you follow me?”

I was drinking coffee by the window after the meal when Moonhwa called me.

Her expression was unusually serious.

What’s this about? I followed her upstairs.

She opened a door in the hallway, and the messy state of the room immediately caught my eye.

Clothes were scattered all over the floor.

Even worse, a bra and panties were neatly laid out on the bed, as if they were on display.

Bang!

“You saw that?”

Moonhwa hastily slammed the door shut and turned to look at me, her face full of embarrassment and shock.

I should pretend I didn’t see anything, right?

So… you wear bold underwear, huh? That red color is really passionate.

If I said that, my relationship with Moonhwa would end instantly.

“Huh? Saw what?”

“…No, nothing. Just wait a bit. I need to organize some documents. Some of them are company secrets.”

“Alright. I’ll just finish my coffee.”

Moonhwa cracked the door open and squeezed herself inside. I had to stifle a laugh.

The responsibility of a corporate successor is admirable.

She’s desperately trying to prevent corporate secrets from leaking. Truly touching.

I leaned an arm on the railing and sipped my coffee, enjoying the clear view outside.

The Han River stretched out beneath the towering buildings, a peaceful cityscape in the morning light.

“Come in.”

After a while of loud shuffling and thumping sounds, Moonhwa finally called me.

That was faster than I expected. She must have cleaned up in record time.

I stepped inside. So this is Moonhwa’s room.

It’s much bigger than I imagined.

The first thing that caught my eye was the massive bookshelf covering an entire wall.

Next was the enormous bed.

I hadn’t realized its size when I glimpsed it through the door earlier, but now I could tell—it was huge.

At least five people could lie side by side on it.

“Sit.”

“What’s this about?”

I sat down on the bed, and Moonhwa handed me a stack of documents.

What’s this? Looking through them, I realized they were an MCN company contract.

“This is a contract?”

“Read it.”

I carefully went through the details: a three-year contract, a signing bonus of 1 billion won, no revenue sharing, an annual 4 billion won worth of Shinwa Group-related advertisements, guaranteed ownership of my accounts, and legal protection of my image and copyrights.

The terms were on a completely different level compared to other companies.

Especially the 1 billion won signing bonus—my jaw almost dropped.

No company had ever made such an offer before.

On top of that, all revenue from Twika TV and YouCube would belong solely to me.

The only downside was that I wouldn’t be able to sign advertising contracts with Shinwa Group’s competitors.

But that’s just common sense in the advertising industry anyway.

It wasn’t even worth considering a disadvantage.

“Didn’t you say you’d find someone to advise me on this?”

“My original plan was to have an employee guide you through the contract process, but… I promised, didn’t I? No more helping you secretly—I’d discuss things with you first.”

So she was plotting something like this again.

At this point, I couldn’t help but wonder—am I succeeding because of my abilities, or is Moonhwa’s influence playing a bigger role?

“But if I sign under these conditions, does Shinwa Group even gain anything?”

Just looking at the contract, I could tell this was a massive investment.

Even excluding the one-time signing bonus, there were still ongoing expenses like annual advertising costs, facility fees, and salaries.

A corporation exists to make a profit, right? I didn’t understand why they’d propose such a seemingly disadvantageous contract.

“Brand promotion. We believe you’ll soon become a global brand. Just having exclusive advertising rights will generate huge profits. Plus, it’ll enhance Shinwa Group’s overall image. Think of it as a massive sponsorship deal.”

Now that I think about it, that makes sense.

They understand my value. There’s no one else in the world with my appearance.

And since Shinwa Group is a global company, they must see me as a figure who could create a massive impact worldwide as their model.

But still, it doesn’t fully add up. Businesses exist to chase money, yet this feels too straightforward—too honest.

“Even so…”

“Of course, the biggest reason is my influence. Normally, no company would offer terms like this. As you know, Shinwa Group has no prior ties to the entertainment or streaming industries.”

“So now you’re just openly admitting you helped me?”

“I said I wouldn’t lie to you anymore.”

I had nothing to say to that.

She did this for my benefit—what was there to complain about?

Even after reading through the contract again, there wasn’t a single clause that put me at a disadvantage.

Even if I held someone at gunpoint and negotiated, I wouldn’t get a deal this good.

Rejecting it would be plain stupid. I nodded without hesitation.

“Alright, I’ll sign. Pass me a pen. There’s just one clause I want to add.”

Still, there was something I needed to tweak.

If another competitor offered me an ad deal worth more than 4 billion won annually, I’d be losing out.

I needed a clause allowing me to renegotiate advertising terms at least every six months.

Subscriber counts and other tangible metrics would serve as evidence of my growth, justifying higher rates.

“Got it. I’ll incorporate your suggestions, so don’t rush—take your time to think it through.”

We continued discussing and modifying the contract. The process was smooth until we hit a disagreement.

“That’s a problem. We can’t increase ad fees purely based on subscriber count. The numbers could skyrocket to ridiculous levels. There has to be a cap.”

So she does draw the line between business and personal matters.

I thought she’d agree to all my terms easily, so I went ahead with an unreasonable demand, but she rejected it outright.

Fine. We set a maximum limit and settled on a system where, if a competitor made a high-value offer, my ad rates would increase proportionally.

As a result, the penalty for exposing the contract details externally in advance had also increased.

“Do you need some time to think? I completely understand your position, so don’t feel pressured to answer right away.”

“No, it’s not that…”

After a long discussion, we drafted the contract. However, I didn’t sign it.

Shinhwa Group had established a brand-new MCN company solely for me. It was an unprecedented offer, and the terms were just as exceptional.

But before signing, I wanted to inspect the facilities with my own eyes. I needed to determine whether they were truly capable of supporting me before making a decision.

“You want to see the facilities, right?”

“Yeah, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but…”

“Got it. Let’s get ready to head out.”

As expected, Moonhwa was straightforward.

He immediately agreed to show me.

Was there anything I needed to prepare for going out? I just sat blankly on the bed, waiting.

Moonhwa glanced at me, and an awkward silence passed as our eyes met.

After fidgeting and looking around, Moonhwa stepped closer and whispered.

“You need to change before going out. The full-length mirror is in your room, but…”

“Oh? My bad.”

Since I had already changed into something comfortable in the morning, I assumed I could just go as I was.

Well, unlike me, Moonhwa was someone of high social status.

He probably needed to dress more formally.

He’d also need to style his hair neatly, as usual. I had been thoughtless.

“Should I post a stream announcement in the meantime?”

Sitting on the living room sofa, I wrote a notice for my Twika TV channel.

Since I had promised to make up for yesterday’s break with solid content, I needed to keep my word.

Streamer Shin Yuseong – Announcement

Hello, this is Shin Yuseong.

Starting today at 5 PM, I’ll be doing a non-stop stream until I rank up to Master.

No sleep until I reach my goal. How long will it take?

Stay tuned to find out!

[Oh! Finally, a non-stop stream ]
[Not just Diamond, but going for Master? Is this a lifetime challenge?]
[lol, Is he going for a Guinness World Record?]
[Forget the game time, matchmaking takes forever ]
[Well, with Yuseong, who knows]
[Yuseong, I really enjoyed your lookbook content ]
[My hands are freezing,Warm me up, please ]
[ Even if it’s cringey, Yuseong makes it cute]
[Too cute,I keep replaying it]

Have I been too focused on YouCube content? I feel like I haven’t been playing LoL much lately.

It’s been about two weeks since I arrived in this world, yet I’m still stuck in Platinum. That’s unacceptable.

Of course, it won’t take long. Though I called it a “non-stop stream,” I can definitely reach my goal by the weekend.

I just need to win every match.

“Are you heading out?”

“Yeah, but not right away. I’ll go once Hyejeong is ready.”

I passed the time by watching the live comments on my announcement. Just then, Hyesung approached.

He looked disappointed.

It reminded me of the dogs I used to see when visiting my grandparents’ house during the holidays.

I’d play with them all day, but when it was time to leave, they’d give me those sad, longing eyes.

Had he been feeling lonely? It made sense. Even I, someone relatively active outside, had barely seen any guys my age.

I could understand why he felt that way.

“You said you wanted to become a streamer, right? What kind of content are you planning?”

“Me? League of Legends.”

“Then you’re my rival. What’s your rank?”

“Bronze 2.”

I had somewhat expected that.

Most men in this world weren’t good at gaming.

Silver was considered top-tier, and the majority were probably in Bronze.

Still, Hyesung had potential as a gaming streamer.

He had a decent face, and with enough effort, he could establish himself.

“Streaming isn’t just about LoL. You also need to practice talking a lot. You can’t have dead air during a broadcast.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I gave Hyesung various tips, answering his questions as thoroughly as I could.

Even though it was just basic advice, I was still a pretty well-known streamer on Twika TV.

I hoped he would be motivated to work harder.

“What are you two talking about?”

“Oh? Noona…”

Moonhwa had finished getting ready and came down to the living room.

Hyesung looked flustered and glanced at me nervously.

It seemed like he hadn’t told Moonhwa about his desire to become a streamer.

Well, in that case, I’d keep it a secret for him.

“You’re done, right? Let’s head out. I’ll drop by again later.”

“…Okay.”

I shook hands with Hyesung and got up from my seat.

Then, Moonhwa and I headed outside, walking toward the underground parking lot.