I Became a Malicious Streamer

A week has passed since then.

The Ed Cup wrapped up smoothly, and Mollru, who capped off the event, received treatment so lavish it was hard to label her simply as a streamer.

It was expected that she would be recognized while playing among professionals at Li Chao’s request, but this was something beyond that.

The results were shockingly beyond imagination. Indeed, Mollru emerged victorious in the pre-event matches. The final score was 2 to 1. She lost the second game to Li Chao but then came back to win in the subsequent match, finishing the contest triumphantly.

The ups and downs of the match are not unusual. Since top-tier professionals mixed into various teams, it was entirely possible for Li Chao’s team to lose.

What captured people’s attention wasn’t the match result but rather its content. More specifically, they were astonished by Mollru’s performance as she held her own amongst the professionals.

After Li Chao’s interview, people started to take an interest in the “Korean Samurai” he mentioned.

The intrigue intensified when it was revealed that the “Korean Samurai” was not “him” but “her,” a master on the Korean server and also a commentator.

A rare female gamer received recognition as a top-tier player. And she was stunningly beautiful to boot.

It would be odd for her to not attract attention.

However, while most people became interested in Mollru, they had their doubts about the skills that Li Chao praised.

And rightly so—wasn’t it just too unbelievable? If a novel were written like this, it would be criticized for lacking credibility.

Thus, they remained skeptical. She might be skilled, but could she really compete against professionals? Was her victory over Li Chao merely a stroke of luck in a ranked game? These were entirely reasonable questions.

Those questions were soon resolved, and people went wild.

This young lady from the East showed she was not at a disadvantage against the professionals. In fact, at times, she displayed an overwhelming prowess.

It would be difficult to claim the professionals didn’t play seriously during the event; their expressions were far too earnest, and the quality of gameplay was notably high.

Of course, it was a simple combat-focused game, unlike a professional team match where they had to coordinate. But that was unavoidable. With different teams mixed in, it was hard to coordinate, and on top of that, they were from different countries, complicating basic communication.

Yet even amidst that chaos, their skills shone through. Mollru naturally stood among them.

Fans from around the world who loved this game welcomed the emergence of another master and were delighted to learn she was a Korean broadcaster.

– Do Koreans get to see gameplay like this every day?

– Damn! I need to watch her stream!

Foreigners started flocking to Mollru’s broadcasts.

*

Rest is always sweet, especially when it’s a long-awaited break.

But any break must eventually end. If a break stretches indefinitely, it ceases to be a break.

So, what would I do at the end of this break? Naturally, it was time for a broadcast again.

– Mollru is live!

‘Just another gaming stream.’

[Molha]
[Watta wattah watta]
[ㅎㅎㅇㅎㅇㅎㅇㅎ]
[hi,

]
[I cried because I missed Mollru ㅠㅠ]
[Hello]
[Molha, please greet me on the first try]
[你好]

Viewers quickly filled the chat with their greetings. About two-thirds of the messages were in Korean, a quarter in English, and the rest in Chinese.

It was thanks to the Ed Cup. After unintentionally becoming known across countries through the event, I now had quite a number of overseas fans.

Would it be too much to say it was a flood of handshake requests? I’ve already lost count of the times I’ve been asked if I use social media like Facebook or Star Stream.

While I do have a fan cafe as a communications channel, perhaps that was not enough. After all, it might be hard for people living overseas to access it.

But I didn’t really want to set up an SNS channel. Furthermore, I had no desire to post my daily life with all its emotional nuances.

To be precise, it felt bothersome. Wouldn’t YouTube be sufficient? There are experts for those matters. I’d bring it up with Si-young later.

“Hum…”

I silently booted up the game. It was EOW (Agent of War). I wasn’t sure how long I would play.

I could play just a couple of games and then stop, or I could play several in a row. There weren’t any hard rules, but it was a decent game for warming up as the broadcast commenced. Most people in this room desired that game.

This was my first broadcast after three days since the Ed Cup ended, following the matches where I received treatment comparable to a pro gamer despite not being one, and I had even earned a fair amount of money.

It wasn’t that I had joined to make money, but hey, it meant I had some revenue beyond just commentary. I was promised a substantial sum simply for doing commentary at such a big event, so one could only imagine how much I earned for participating directly. As I checked the unreal sum reflected in my bank account, I felt a slight expansion within me.

On the bright side, I felt a newfound ease; on the downside, I had perhaps become a tad unmotivated. I wanted to get on air occasionally, say, when I felt bored or needed someone to chat with.

In truth, the longer a streamer takes a break, the easier it is for them to be forgotten. Whether it was the fluctuating viewers or the dedicated ones waiting for a specific broadcaster, they often grew weary of waiting.

Yet that did not apply to me. It feels a bit odd to say this, but I had no substitute for my broadcasts.

That’s the fear of monopoly.

I can achieve their elusive ideal type. I love games, I’m good at them, I have a nice voice, and I’m a pretty female broadcaster. That’s me, and I know well that it’s not something anyone can do.

Especially now that foreign viewers are streaming in. Once you become famous, even if you mess up, people will still applaud; I could probably take a month off and still have people showing up when I eventually streamed.

Thinking that, I inadvertently selected the sniper. I was bored from playing swordsman too often lately. The incoming foreign viewers seemed to crave the swordsman so much that I recall doing back-to-back ten games with it.

[wow korean sniper]

[Desert Sniper Mollru on ㄷㄷㄷㄷ]

[These Yangbongs only add ‘Korean’ to everything to make it sound stronger?]

[The Bangjang is Korean, though.]

[These guys just like Koreans, for real ㅇㅇ]

[Korea is the 51st state of America.]

[lollololololol]

The sniper game begins with an automatic lock-on. This was the first match since waking up. As I loosened my stiff hands, a familiar nickname caught my eye.

-BEG Rizhao

“Here we go again…”

[Chinese chef입갤 ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]

[Ah, did you charm him again?]

[Pheromones are oozing from Mollru… a very rich pheromone.]

[She casts a charm on everyone, regardless of gender, so be careful.]

[Five thousand people in this room have already fallen for it, right? It’s already too late.]

[A mysterious Chinese tycoon sniper appears.]

[A girl turns top professional gamers into soup ㄷㄷ]

[Li Chao is persistent too.]

[@Rizhao gotcha!]

[Watching the stream, time to ban him!]

To prevent stream sniping, I immediately kicked him out. I could always unban him once the game ended.

Since the event, Rizhao often appeared when I was streaming EOW, and I initially thought it was a coincidence, but I’d started to confirm it as a case of targeted sniping.

I didn’t know the reason. Perhaps he still felt sour about losing to me 2 to 1. He still hadn’t returned to his home country and was periodically logging into the Korean server.

Truthfully, I couldn’t say anything against him sniping. After all, wasn’t I also a former sniper? I had no right to criticize that behavior.

But I could make at least one comment.

“Guys, just so you know, men who obsess are not attractive. Just saying.”

[Whoa]

[Li Chao is a gay…]

[Li Chao, just quit!]

[Even if I were a girl, I’d feel off-put by a piglet like Pingping hitting on me ㅇㅇ;]

[But he has money, right?]

[The Bangjang has money too, though?]

[Oh.]

[Obsessive men are unattractive… noting that down…]

[Will Mollru’s fans be cool and not clingy? Cause they’d just get called cool but weird vibes.]

As the waiting time came to an end, I seized the advantageous high ground suited for sniping and surveyed the battlefield.

Out in the distance, enemy agents dashed forward. Li Chao was among them.

An assassin. He didn’t even carry the usual common dagger. It was a lightweight setup. His intention to roam the battlefield with agility while targeting someone was apparent. And that “someone” was surely me.

I captured Li Chao through my scope. I’d already zoomed in. He was in a position where his head could be blown off with just a bit of an advance.

Like a spider waiting to catch its prey in the web, I patiently waited. The immediate sniping attempt as soon as the game began was one of my common strategies. Since I became this character, it has become a strategy that rarely failed.

Bang-!

That fact was proven as the clear sound of the shot rang out, and the kill log popped up.

It was a headshot. The sniper rifle blew Li Chao’s head clean off. How dare he think I would go down that easily.

Li Chao retired right then and there. With the continuing gunfire, true combat began.

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