Chapter 84 : Gossip

Barcode hadn’t expected much activity since it wasn’t her usual streaming time.

But to her surprise, the viewers’ reaction was overwhelmingly intense, and the chat became a chaotic mess, making it impossible to keep up.

In hindsight, this was a predictable outcome the moment she mentioned the villa trip.

No matter how fun mindless point gambling was, it was bound to get boring after being repeated too many times.

Leo League, Point Gambling, and the occasional Curry x Barcode collabs with random rewards…

There wasn’t much variety beyond that, and they had been milked dry like an overcooked broth.

On top of that, Barcode’s solo streams were more about showcasing her skills rather than entertainment, unlike Curry’s.

“Guys? Can we calm down a little?”

The chat was flooded with everything from, “Are they finally going official?”

To, “Can I buy the wedding invitation for 5 million points?”

With all these bizarre questions flying around, she had no choice but to intervene.

I tried my best to calm down the chaotic chat with a quiet, composed voice.

But calming down the chat? Yeah, right.

For some reason, instead of settling down, the viewers started spamming even more.

I had no idea who they took after, but asking them to calm down just made them even more unruly.

Left with no choice, I asked Ji-hye for help.

Only after she restricted the chat with all possible limitations did things finally settle down.

Once the chat was under control, I swallowed a sigh.

Maybe I had been too vague.

The viewers thought Curry and I were heading off on a villa trip alone… tomorrow.

In my excitement, I had spoken too hastily and caused this misunderstanding.

I couldn’t take back what I’d already said, but I could at least clear things up.

“Uh, guys? We’re not going tomorrow. The trip is just planned, that’s all.”

[What the heck]

[I thought it was happening tomorrow…]

[Why am I the only one who’s always serious…]

[So when are you going? When are you going? When are you going?]

[I’ve been fooled again…]

As soon as I denied the rumors, the heated atmosphere cooled down.

This kind of abrupt mood shift could sometimes bring down a streamer’s energy too, which wasn’t ideal.

But it was still better than letting the chaos spiral out of control.

Besides, I wasn’t the type to lose energy over something this trivial.

“The schedule isn’t set yet, but probably next week? At the latest, we’ll go within two weeks.”

“And we’re not going alone… My manager and Rine-nim will be joining us. So, it’s a group of four.”

After this explanation, the lukewarm chat began to pick up emotional steam again.

The anticipation and excitement about what might happen on this four-person trip were clearly reflected in the viewers’ messages.

“So… what’s on the agenda for today? Hmm… I was thinking of playing some solo ranked games for a change.”

The viewers cheered at the prospect of a solo-ranked stream.

Ever since the “wedding gambling” had started, I had only been doing point-betting streams.

Personally, I had a lot of fun and found those streams fulfilling, but from the viewers’ perspective?

Watching point gambling over and over again probably got boring after a while.

In fact, ever since I started those mindless point-betting streams, my average viewership had dropped.

But I didn’t feel disappointed or anything.

If anything, I was proud—because the viewers who left my stream had migrated to Curry’s.

It was like a proud pet owner watching their beloved companion grow and thrive.

Checking Curry’s consistent growth had long become a part of my daily routine, bringing a satisfied smile to my face.

[“What’s Barcode’s current rank?”]

[“Saw the match history—Diamond 1?”]

[“Why is Barcode’s rank so low?”]

[“Caught a newbie who doesn’t know about placements.”]

[“Cute newbie, lmao.”]

[“Can y’all chill with the weird vibes…”]

[“Even pros are struggling in Diamond 1 this season, haha.”]

I read through the flood of messages while queuing up for a match.

With the start of a new season, placement resets had clustered all the top-tier pros and high-rankers into this tier.

The battlefield here was intense, and only those who could fight their way through it would climb to higher ranks.

I filled the air with commentary by reading notable messages and responding.

As someone who had been a viewer before becoming a streamer, I knew all too well how boring it was when the broadcast went silent.

While I was keeping up the conversation with the chat, one message stood out and caught my eye.

“When is Barcode hitting Challenger? Hmm… I’m not really in a hurry to climb.”

[“So you’re saying if you wanted to, you’d be rank 1 already?”]

[“Breaking news: Barcode declares, ‘If I feel like it, everyone’s below me.’”]

[“If Barcode’s on top… I mean, kinda hot though…”]

[“Certified crazy… certified crazy…”]

[“Tbh, Barcode has the confidence to back that up.”]

[“Barcode’s stats: billionaire, Challenger, insane looks, model body, and Curry’s CEO.”]

[“Curry’s CEO is the only truth we need.”]

[“Why do I feel something bubbling up inside me… Is this normal?”]

[“That’s repressed rage, wake up.”]

[“‘That’ feeling… lol.”]

Seeing how quickly my offhand comment had spiraled into chaos left me speechless.

In other streamers’ chats, the viewers seemed well-behaved, followed the rules, and respected boundaries…

But why did all the troublemakers flock to my stream? I couldn’t make sense of it.

As I continued chatting with the viewers, the match finally popped. I immediately hid the pick/ban screen.

I didn’t really care if someone sniped me, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for them either.

More importantly, if I didn’t hide the pick/ban phase, my teammates’ preferred picks could get target-banned.

As a streamer, hiding the champ select screen was basic etiquette and a rule that had to be followed.

After the ban phase ended, I switched the stream back to the champ select screen and glanced at the chat.

Since I was last pick, I had plenty of time before it was my turn, so I figured I’d read the chat to pass the time.

But… something felt off.

Words like “Opera” and “Drill” kept popping up repeatedly.

The terms were oddly familiar, and it didn’t take long for me to piece together what was happening.

Opera was the ADC for Team Lannis, a first-division pro team.

Drill was his support, also from Team Lannis.

Judging by the flood of chat messages, it was clear that Opera and Drill were on the enemy team.

It wasn’t rare to get matched against pros—especially in high Elo at the start of a season.

But for their names to stir up such a prolonged reaction in chat? Something was definitely up.

Team Lannis.

A team that had once been stuck in the second division but had skyrocketed to the finals thanks to an exceptional coach.

The problem?

Just before Worlds, the team’s owner fired that same coach for some ridiculous reason.

To make matters worse, some players allegedly tried to ruin the coach’s reputation behind the scenes.

And the players caught up in that controversy?

Opera and Drill.

Despite the scandals, they were still active because of one simple reason:

A Worlds semifinal finish.

In the pro scene, skill often outweighed personality and controversy.

As long as the scandal wasn’t completely beyond redemption, raw talent could cover for almost anything.

But honestly? I had no interest in getting involved.

Our fields didn’t even overlap, and sticking my nose where it didn’t belong was a surefire way to invite trouble.

Besides, I wasn’t even certain if it was really Opera and Drill yet.

So, I kept my mouth shut.

Not that I cared much to begin with.

I quickly messaged Leo, my new manager who was well-versed in these kinds of situations, to clean up any over-the-line chat messages.

While that was happening, my turn to pick finally arrived.

Without hesitation, I locked in Yune—my signature champ and practically my identity at this point.

My opponent? Zed.

A champion that embodied assassins.

The Yune-Zed matchup was a solid 50/50, so it wasn’t a bad pick.

Though, if I was being honest…

“How many Zed players could actually beat my Yune?”

That thought flashed through my mind.

But this was Diamond 1 at the start of the season—a battlefield overflowing with pros and monsters alike.

I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

Of course, I couldn’t compete, and with all the lanes except mid collapsing, the chat was already filled with “15gg.”