Chapter 07…
“Hey, Lee Ji-han! Are you okay!?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.”
“You’re nosebleeding, dude! Who the hell gets a nosebleed while playing a full-dive game!? Hey, hey, tilt your head back first.”
“They say tilting your head back makes it worse.”
Unlike Kim Su-ho, who was making a fuss, Lee Ji-han lowered his head as if he was already used to it.
“Damn, shouldn’t you go to the hospital?”
“Once I really focus, I get super exhausted. Guess this isn’t something I can do for long.”
The sudden stream shutdown.
With the chat window and online communities on fire, Kim Su-ho didn’t care about any of that—he just stared at Ji-han with a worried face.
“You’re not thinking something like, ‘What if he gets hurt playing the game I recommended?’ are you?”
“Wh-what, you think I’d actually say that!?”
“Don’t worry. I had fun, so it’s fine.”
Fun—it really was.
Hearing that, Su-ho slumped to the floor with a thud, staring at Ji-han like he was some kind of monster.
“Alright then. Whew… if you had fun, that’s a relief.”
“It was disorienting, sure, but still, it was an enjoyable experience. Phew.”
“…Ah.”
That brought Su-ho back to his senses. He quickly stood up and checked the chat.
The stream had ended. Of the 3,000 or so viewers, many had left, but about 1,000 were still there spamming messages.
[Please come back, Heavenly Demon!]
[Heavenly Demon my ass, who the hell fires a gun like a coward lolol!]
[The game’s literally about shooting, you idiots lolol]
[Ji-han outplayed them, Kim Ppong-tta must be fuming lolol]
[So are they collabing or not?]
[??? What collab?]
[This whole mess started because Kim Ppong-tta put a bounty on him. You think Ji-han would collab? Didn’t you see him grinding his teeth trying to dodge?]
[Lmao fans got nothing to say now, huh?]
[He was griefing in ranked and casual matches just to snipe, serves him right.]
[This game’s already a dying swamp of veterans, is traffic really a problem?]
[It wasn’t even a full day, just half a day lol stop being dramatic.]
[If anyone actually got hurt, Kim Ppong-tta said he’d apologize. Go bring them here lol stop the baseless hate.]
The chat burned in a whole new way.
Su-ho felt a headache pulsing at his temples.
[Lmao the clip’s already up on the community!]
[What community? Those vultures are spreading it to every streamer forum.]
[Are they making reaction compilations too?]
[Doesn’t our streamer avoid YouTube?]
[Lol who’s our streamer? Guardian? Or Ji-han? Lol]
[Obviously Ji-han lolol]
[Heavenly Demon! We await your return! Please, please stream again!]
[Lmao what is this. So when’s the next stream?]
[Don’t forget to like, favorite, and turn on notifications!]
The chat was nothing but chaos.
[Zero Ground Anonymous Community]
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Yo, did you see the stream today?
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Acid got completely destroyed lol
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Who was that guy? A pro?
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I think a rookie streamer. Looked like he had prepped a “tag” content thing.
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Lmao what rookie beats Acid?
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Here’s the link.
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????? Isn’t this a hacker? What the hell is this?
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Lolololol how’s that humanly possible???
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Apparently lots of small/mid-sized streamers were involved too. They said Kim Ppong-tta started it?
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Ugh, Ppong-tta again? Please just leave the scene, man. You’re a variety gamer, stop ruining this one.
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Don’t forget Ppong-tta basically saved the game. Without him, normal players wouldn’t even log in. He boosted awareness so pros could make money.
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Stop fighting, just make peace. Whatever the case, I’m glad the game’s lively again hahaha.
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This dead game needed some fresh blood lol.
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Old folks, this isn’t your retirement home. Go back there if you must.
The community wasn’t much different.
“Hm.”
Pressing on his eyelids, Su-ho glanced at Ji-han.
There he was, looking more clueless than innocent, struggling to stop his nosebleed.
After causing such an uproar, he sat there acting like he had no idea. It was annoyingly endearing.
“Ji-han.”
“Yeah?”
“…Is your nose better?”
Ji-han nodded.
“It happens sometimes. If I over-focus. But… maybe this full-dive stuff just doesn’t suit me that well.”
“So you’re stopping here?”
“Yeah. Still, I had fun while it lasted.”
Strictly speaking, today was the day the world first learned of “Lee Ji-han.”
It was the perfect time to debut as a streamer. The buzz and new viewers were the best possible launchpad.
But Ji-han didn’t seem to realize his own talent.
“Ji-han, let me tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got talent. For real.”
What’s a streamer’s talent?
The ability to communicate with chat? That’s important.
But the most crucial thing—drawing everyone’s attention, making the spotlight stay on you.
Ji-han wasn’t great at chatting. But he had this uncanny ability to capture everyone’s gaze.
That came from gymnastics.
Back in the national reserve team, even in his no-name school gymnastics club days, he broke unofficial records. But when it mattered, injuries kept him out.
Su-ho, who knew Ji-han from those times, could vividly recall his monstrous physical abilities.
“I’ve streamed for years and only get like twenty viewers on a good day. But you? In half a day, thousands are already watching you.”
Su-ho’s expression grew serious.
“Ji-han, let’s go for it. Stream.”
“I…”
Ji-han had regrets.
Regrets Su-ho had heard about every single day.
“You think you’ll fail again? That even great results meant nothing since you never made nationals? But this is different. This is the opposite.”
That’s why Su-ho pressed on Ji-han’s sore spot.
Broken bones heal stronger.
“This is gymnastics. The thing you wanted so badly. In-game, you can do it. I’ve seen your clips outside the game too. Your so-called evasive maneuvers? They’re wildly inefficient.”
Su-ho’s voice was cold.
“But they’re flashy. Cool. Who the hell does floor routines while bullets are flying?”
“That’s…”
“Because your body remembers it. Because you want to. Because you’ve been longing for it. Others crouch—while you soar naturally.”
He gripped Ji-han’s shoulders.
It didn’t hurt, but Ji-han could feel the weight of Su-ho’s emotions.
“So let’s do this, Ji-han. You can make good money. Pay back your parents, your sibling. While doing exactly what you want.”
Even though Su-ho had lost his own chance.
Even though the spotlight he’d wanted his whole life was stolen.
He still put Ji-han first.
That’s why—
“Su-ho, yeah. …But in that case, won’t you be stuck helping me all the time? I don’t know anything about streaming. Can you teach me?”
Ji-han, too, reached out for Su-ho’s help.
“First thing’s first.”
“What’s that?”
“We need a capsule that suits you. I’ve never seen nosebleeds as a symptom. Maybe it’s because the settings are all optimized for me.”
That’s the kind of guy Su-ho was.
When someone less knowledgeable asked for help, he’d puff up with pride and give everything he had.
“…So what do we do?”
“You buy your own capsule. If you’re streaming.”
“But I don’t have money.”
“You got severance pay, right? Invest it.”
And once Su-ho latched onto something, he was relentless.
That’s why Ji-han had always avoided asking him for help until now.
“For long streams, you need a capsule with good cooling and a comfy seat. Spend the money, get a good one.”
“W-wait, my severance is going down the drain?”
“Of course. If it’s not enough, I’ll chip in from my account. I’m gonna raise you up properly.”
Su-ho had decided.
He’d fulfill his dream of being a top streamer—through Ji-han.
“Raise me? Then what about you?”
“Me? I’ll be your manager. And about YouTube—I should learn editing. Back then I gave up while studying, but now it’s necessary.”
He opened a notepad on the PC beside the capsule and started jotting things down.
“Editing. YouTube. Those are the two key points.”
“…I don’t get it at all. You’re talking too fast.”
“Your biggest weakness is lack of communication. That hyperfocus syndrome—you can’t read chat at all. You know that.”
Ji-han remembered his boss’s scolding voice.
“Lost in your own world again?”
He knew too well how quickly stress drove him into hyperfocus, and how much it crippled his communication.
“But editing can patch that a bit. Right now, your popularity’s soaring. We’ve got to strike while the iron’s hot.”
“So… like, short-form content?”
“You said you binge-watch shorts for 10 hours, right? Sure, we’ll do shorts. But long-form and short-form audiences are totally different. We’ll focus on long-form. Shorts will just be edited highlights, cookie bits.”
Ji-han could barely follow, nodding blankly.
Su-ho sighed deeply, pinching his brow.
“I’ll handle that part. Next is the games. Right now, there are popular full-dive games that can build a solid base. Like the titan of full-dive MOBAs: League of Duty. Aka LoD.”
“I know that one. My little brother loves it.”
“Exactly. It’s famous, easy for new viewers. But…”
Su-ho smirked.
“Your physical skills are insane. The community’s buzzing. You’ve already got some loyal viewers. So, why not play the games they want? I’ve got a few in mind that suit you.”
“Huh? Already?”
“One viewer even requested Zombress.”
Zombress—short for Project Zombress.
A survival game in a zombie-filled world. Simple concept, but as a full-dive title, its freedom and item interactions had already earned it a huge overseas fanbase.
Especially with famous YouTubers posting experiment videos, the algorithm often boosted Zombress content.
For starting YouTube now, it was the perfect game.
“What kind of game is it?”
“You’ll see. I’ll help. Let’s duo together.”
He didn’t explain.
He only told Ji-han to trust him, like some cult leader.
Ji-han was curious, but Zombress contained his deadliest weakness.
No matter what, Ji-han mustn’t know what Zombress is about. Not until stream day.
Ji-han’s greatest weakness wasn’t communication.
Not hyperfocus syndrome either.
It was his aversion to unnatural, unscientific beings.
In other words—
He absolutely couldn’t handle zombies, ghosts, spirits, or anything supernatural.
“Hehehe… heh heh heh…”
“Hey, Su-ho. Why are you laughing so creepily?”
“No reason. Nothing at all.”
That day’s stream—was bound to be very entertaining.
Su-ho was sure of it.
