Chapter 74: Countless Requests for a Handshake

When Moses lifted his staff, the Red Sea parted.

I wasn’t particularly religious, but I knew that much about the Bible.

Moses, the great religious leader and national hero of ancient Israel.

The miracle he performed was now unfolding right here at this party.

“A celebrity…?”

“Who is that?”

“Never seen them before…”

Whispers filled the air as curious gazes gathered.

At the same time, the crowd in front of us split apart, as if making way for us to pass.

As if wherever we walked, a path was naturally created.

Everyone was looking our way, their expressions filled with shock.

Ah, of course. That made sense.

The first time I saw Mollru in person, her impact had been overwhelming.

I couldn’t even form words, only managing a dumbfounded uhhh…

And that was when I knew the stunning woman before me was Mollru.

If these people realized the person beside me was Mollru—how much more shocked would they be?

Yet, compared to the miracle she had just performed, the person beside me—someone who could rival Moses—was completely unbothered.

She strode forward, perfectly composed, as if this reception was only natural.

She neither avoided the attention nor basked in it—she simply accepted it.

Ryu-ah couldn’t help but smile.

She hadn’t known Ji-eun for long, but despite her dazzling appearance and kind heart, Ji-eun had strangely low self-esteem.

At first, Ryu-ah thought she was joking.

With her looks, she must have received overwhelming attention and admiration growing up, so why would she think so little of herself?

But as they spent more time together, Ryu-ah realized something.

Mollru—Ji-eun—genuinely believed she was far, far, far inferior to others.

She didn’t press for details, fearing she might reopen wounds.

Still, she hoped that one day, Ji-eun would come to see herself as she truly was.

Just like now.

The entire party had turned its attention to Ji-eun.

She hadn’t done anything—just her presence alone had drawn every gaze.

If anyone here fit the role of the party’s main character, it was Ji-eun.

With that thought, Ryu-ah followed her lead.

“This is way too complicated.”

I had no choice but to admit it.

My sense of direction was terrible.

Even after entering the venue, I was still struggling to find our Age of War team members.

Meanwhile, people’s eyes remained fixed on me and Ryu-ah.

Apparently, Ryu-ah was even more popular than I had realized.

It was only now that I was truly feeling the extent of her fame.

And judging by the way she was grinning, she was enjoying it.

She could at least help me find our team instead of just smirking.

But I couldn’t bring myself to ruin her fun.

Instead, I focused on finding the table number that Cheol-woo had sent in our chat.

I headed deeper inside—and finally found them.

Or rather, I found Cheol-woo… with his face painted green and an expression of pure suffering.

“Oh, you’re here! Over here!”

Tex waved us over enthusiastically.

The rest of the team turned their heads toward us in unison.

Familiar, yet somehow unfamiliar faces.

I hesitated for a moment.

What happened to them?

“Ah, bro! You scared them with your face again!”

“There… is an explanation.”

“Anyway, have a seat. Both of you.”

Tex chuckled while Cheol-woo lowered his head in shame.

Once we sat down, I could finally get a proper look at my teammates.

“…What is this? A group cosplay?”

Ryu-ah, who had just taken her seat, also flinched at the sight of Cheol-woo’s face.

Yes, it was cosplay.

Everyone except Ryu-ah and me was in costume—ones that looked oddly familiar.

Cheol-woo, with his intimidating features and green-painted face, was probably…

“Uh… are you the Hulk?”

“I’m Frankenstein.”

“…Oh.”

Frankenstein, huh.

Meanwhile, Tex had dressed as a vampire, and PapiJoah was a ghost bride.

Both had impressive pale makeup.

And then there was Jackie…

“…Director, why are you wearing a Pikachu onesie?”

Unlike the others, Jackie hadn’t done any makeup.

But the fluffy Pikachu onesie was enough to make his ears turn red with embarrassment.

“He failed to beat the Elite Four with just a Pikachu.”

Apparently, he lost a bet with his viewers.

The others had similar reasons.

Cheol-woo and Tex had failed their stream until you win challenges and were paying the price.

Before Ryu-ah and I had arrived, they had already gone live to show off their punishments.

PapiJoah, on the other hand, had joined in voluntarily.

Since two of them were cosplaying, she thought it would be fun to join them.

She had always been interested in cosplay, it seemed.

Before I knew it, I was laughing at the ridiculous scene.

“If I knew this was happening, we should’ve dressed up too, huh?”

Ryu-ah smacked her lips in disappointment.

She glanced at me with a look of regret, as if she had already simulated dressing me up in countless cosplay outfits inside her head.

I ignored her gaze and quietly sipped the drink in front of me.

–Hey, hey, look over there.

–They’re in costume.

Among all the neatly dressed guests, our table stood out like a sore thumb.

People passing by couldn’t help but steal glances, their curiosity obvious.

Whenever their eyes met Cheol-woo’s, they flinched and quickly looked away.

This was… surprisingly entertaining.

“I’m a fan, sir!”

Some of them even approached our table, asking for autographs.

Cheol-woo, looking a bit lost, signed their papers.

It must have taken some nerve to approach like that—yet another reminder that not just anyone could be a streamer.

As more people lined up for autographs, our table started to attract a small crowd.

It seemed the Age of War tournament victory had made quite an impact.

Each of my teammates had their own dedicated fans.

And if someone was familiar with our team’s roster, then they could naturally deduce who I was.

–So, that means… she’s Mollru?

–It has to be, given the team lineup. But…

–Why wouldn’t she reveal her face when she looks like that?

I had expected this.

It’s not like I walked around in a hijab—coming here meant my face would be seen.

In the middle of the murmuring crowd, someone suddenly stepped forward.

A familiar face.

“Can I get your autograph, Moll…ru?”

It was Sua—the person who had, in some ways, inspired me to start streaming.

She looked hesitant, as if still unsure.

“What should I write?”

As I quietly accepted the paper and pen, Sua leaned in.

“Are you really Mollru? For real?”

I put a finger to my lips, signaling her to keep quiet.

Finally, she calmed down.

“Write, To my beloved first disciple, Sua.”

Now that I thought about it, she was my first Age of War disciple.

Feeling nostalgic, I quickly scribbled my autograph and added the message she requested.

“Wow… Why don’t you do facecam streams? You’re so pretty.”

After thinking for a moment, she answered her own question.

“Well… I guess there’s no reason to, huh.”

Since my streams were doing fine without it, there wasn’t much incentive to start using a facecam.

That was how I saw it, too.

“See you again. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

With a smile, Sua disappeared back into the crowd.

And then, the next person appeared.

Another familiar face.

“No way… No way this is real.”

The man, who had “no way” glued to his lips, was none other than Oh Dae-sik.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at me like he had just seen a ghost.

“Hello, Dae-sik.”

–Gasp!

His reaction was so dramatic that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Why was he acting like this?

“Wait… You’re telling me you looked this innocent while ruthlessly tormenting me?”

He must have been talking about our first training session together.

Back when I coached him on his stream—and then decided to really train him.

Torment was a bit of an exaggeration, though.

“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“W-what?”

“Was I the only one taking it seriously?”

I sighed dramatically, pretending to be disappointed.

The reaction was immediate.

–Wow, scumbag.

–Worst man alive: Oh Dae-sik.

–Dae-sik is in the wrong here.

Since everyone here was familiar with the streaming world, they naturally knew all the major memes.

Just like his chat did during streams, they playfully roasted him.

“It was just a joke.”

I smiled at Dae-sik, who looked genuinely troubled.

He coughed awkwardly.

“Y-yeah. I-I knew that. Anyway, enjoy the party, and I… uh, hope to see you again.”

After a brief handshake, he scurried away.

Huh. He was surprisingly shy.

“I’m… I’m a fan.”

One by one, more people stepped forward, claiming to be my fans.

This wasn’t supposed to be a fan meet—it was just a party.

And yet, here I was, shaking hands and signing autographs like some celebrity.

Was this what they meant by countless requests for a handshake?

Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I made eye contact with each person who approached me, giving them my full attention.

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