Chapter 27: Meeting

“Then, I’ll take that as you agreeing to join the tournament?”

“Yes…”

“Hehe.”

Sua let out a pleased snicker.

Is this what they call the flow of consciousness?

For some reason, I ended up opening Discord to calm down the frustrated Sua.

As I was fumbling while talking to her, it became a given that I would participate in the tournament.

Am I just the type to get swayed easily?

Or is it that Sua is just really good at handling people?

No matter how I think about it, it’s the latter.

Even when I thought it would be too much trouble, Sua kept whispering “ten million” in my ear, and before I knew it, I had already softened.

Ten million.

Ten million? I can’t resist that.

“Okay, just fill out the application form I sent you as per the format.”

Sua was pushing me along.

I said I would do it, but deep down I figured I probably wouldn’t fill out the tournament application, so I publicly asked for it on the stream.

It wasn’t a difficult task.

All I had to do was follow the format Sua sent and fill it in.

“Broadcast start date, broadcasting experience. Do I even have any broadcasting experience?”

[Monster rookie]

[This person has been streaming for 3 weeks but already has 3,000 viewers?]

[Who wouldn’t watch this?]

The broadcast started about 3 weeks ago.

Naturally, my “experience” would be 3 weeks.

Can I even call that experience?

I had a small doubt.

“Why not? Three weeks is experience.

The ‘Molu’ from three weeks ago and the ‘Molu’ now are different, right? Plus, the fact that it’s only been three weeks makes it even more impressive.

If you write ‘3 weeks’ under experience, wow. Cool, right?”

I agreed with the first part.

The ‘me’ from three weeks ago and the ‘me’ now definitely feel different.

Back then, everything, including streaming, felt awkward.

Now it feels somewhat organized.

But the second part, I’m not so sure about.

If I were the boss hiring someone, I probably wouldn’t hire a crazy person who listed “3 weeks” as their experience.

But if Sua, an experienced broadcaster, says it’s okay, then it must be right.

After all, this is a personal streaming platform, not a company.

“Please fill in your tier and when you started playing AOW.”

I wrote “Master” as my current tier, and the chat went wild.

[Teacher, this is a tournament, so you really need to write your tier]

[If someone joins with a low-tier alt account, it’ll be boring]

[Is it finally time to see Molu’s main account?]

“Um… I don’t have a main account.”

I do have a main account, but not anymore.

But there’s no way the viewers or Sua would believe me.

[When are you going to drop this act?]

[Experience? ‘3 weeks’. Tier? ‘Challenger’]

“Teacher, you said you had a main account when you got targeted.”

“That was just something I said out of frustration.”

I mean, come on.

They said I wasn’t a Challenger when I actually am.

It was hard to accept back then.

Thanks to that, things got all messed up.

But I couldn’t just write “Challenger” as my tier either.

There was a section under the tier to enter and verify the nickname of the account.

If I wrote the nickname of an account I didn’t have, nothing would come up.

What should I do?

“Anyway, on Watch, they’ll check the accounts under your name and your family’s name, so it’s better to just tell the truth…”

Sua muttered while apparently eating snacks, the crunching sound filling the air.

I found the answer in her words.

“That’s perfect. I only have one account anyway.”

“No, what are you hearing? You can’t lie, it’ll get exposed.”

“It’s not a lie.”

Sua fell silent after hearing my firm response.

The viewers kept nagging, wondering if I would participate in the tournament.

But with the account-checking system from Watch, my innocence could be proven.

I finished filling out the application and submitted it to the organizers.

“Now, what should we do…”

What should I do next?

I subtly glanced at the chat and dragged out my words.

[Ah, haha, anyway, saying I’m lying about participating]

[Trust the teacher! Trust the teacher! Trust the teacher! Trust the teacher!]

[Still, some idiots believe in Molu?]

[Isn’t this the end of the stream?]

[Don’t say anxious things]

[Whether you participate or not, you’ll do whatever you want, stop worrying, lol]

[What’s next?]

[Since you applied for the AOW tournament, how about playing some AOW?]

[?]

[Let’s bond with the people who are joining the tournament]

[Are you forcing socializing?]

[A driving plate?]

[Molu only drives when drinking]

[Why is she being so quiet and making me anxious?]

…Some people were quick to catch on.

What’s next?

End the stream, of course.

“Teacher, I ordered food. Can you stream until I finish eating? It’s lonely eating by myself.”

Not a chance.

Ignoring Sua, who was talking nonsense, I ended the stream without saying a word.

This was the consequence of her coming into my stream and messing with me.

That’s something only I can do.

The chat of the now-turned-off stream filled with question marks and anger.

I smiled contentedly, looking at all the messages.

– The next station is Sillim, Sillim station. The doors will open on the left side.

It had been about 30 minutes since I boarded the rattling subway.

I woke up to the mechanical announcement signaling my arrival at the destination.

When I stepped out of the subway station, the sunlight made me squint.

It wasn’t like I was a vampire or anything,

but I had set up the appointment for the afternoon because I thought the morning would be too hard.

The sun was just too bright.

It was a business outing, that’s what I called it today.

I was a career woman out for business.

I briefly indulged in my own thoughts for a moment.

It wasn’t anything grand, though.

I just came to meet an editor.

To be exact, it’s an editor (prospective).

Anyway.

When I asked Sua about the YouTube editor, she said she didn’t meet them in person and just did an electronic contract online.

She said she picked the most skilled person, but I asked her, “What if the editor is unreliable or doesn’t meet expectations?”

– “Then you just fire them and hire someone else.”

Hmm, I see.

Scary girl…

That was my impression from her answer, which came out without any hesitation, as if it was obvious.

Anyway, the point is that you can find an editor without meeting them in person.

I thought, “The world has really changed,” but maybe because I’m old-fashioned, I couldn’t imagine handing over work without knowing the person I’d be

working with.

After all, this is someone who would take care of my YouTube, which is another platform for my broadcast.

Don’t I need to know what kind of person they are?

I prided myself on having a good eye for people.

If I shared a meal or a drink with them and exchanged a few words, I could get a general sense of who they were.

If we built a relationship, they’d probably work harder on editing videos for me.

There’s a saying, “Give one more rice cake to the one you dislike.”

It’s a proverb, so it’s not necessarily wrong, but my belief is that if you give two rice cakes to someone you like, it’s even better.

I plan to be that good person.

Once you put effort into picking the right person, you won’t have to change them frequently.

Fortunately, the editor didn’t live far away.

If they lived overseas or in a distant region like Seoul, I would have done an electronic contract like Sua.

I wanted to meet them in person as soon as possible.

The sooner I set up the YouTube channel, the better.

Since the editor always said “yes” to whatever I asked, the appointment was quickly set up.

Because of that, I took another day off from streaming.

Habitually checking the community, I noticed my name popping up in a few places.

There were small complaints about my irregular streaming schedule and requests for announcements about whether I would stream or not.

Announcements,

I should come up with a solution for that.

It would be too cruel to leave people waiting for me without any word.

Of course, I do find it more fun to see surprised reactions when I suddenly turn on the stream.

Ah, I’ve arrived.

While checking the community and thinking, I had reached the meeting spot.

It was a quaint little cafe not far from the station.

It was the place the editor had chosen as the meeting point, right in the middle between us.

The white-painted walls and tables gave a clean and tidy feeling.

There were only a few people, including the staff, so the atmosphere was quiet.

I ordered a cup of coffee and sat down.

The entire place was made of glass, except for the entrance, so the outside scenery was visible.

There were about 30 minutes left until the meeting time.

I checked the time and sent a message.

It wasn’t to rush, just curiosity.

– Where are you?

Zing-

The reply came almost immediately.

– I’m in front of the cafe.

It was the first time coming here, so I got here early to avoid getting lost and being late.

That’s why I still had 30 minutes left until the appointment.

Yet, she was already here.

Is she the type to arrive earlier than the appointment time?

It’s a good habit to arrive ahead of time.

As I thought about that while looking at the message, I saw a woman walking toward the cafe from a distance.

She was a very tall woman for a woman.

She must have been around 175 cm.

Her long hair swayed as she walked into the cafe.

She then looked around, as if searching for someone.

Could it be—

I had already given the editor my appearance details via text.

A gray coat and ivory-colored pants.

The clothes I was wearing today.

The tall woman muttered something under her breath.

I think she said “gray…”

As I was keeping an eye on her, she turned her head toward me and our eyes met.

Her eyes widened as if she had found what she was looking for, and she walked directly toward me.

Thud thud-

Finally, she stood in front of me.

She looked even taller up close.

Maybe it’s because I’m shorter.

The woman just stared at me without saying anything.

Could she be the editor?

I wish she would say something.

It’s a bit intimidating when someone that big just stares at you without speaking.

Maybe she heard my thoughts, as the woman who had been silently staring at me finally spoke.

“Molru?”

Her low, resonating voice was rather intimidating, and I flinched slightly.

Don’t be scared.