I Became a Malicious Streamer

“So, I would like you to take charge of the order. Is that possible?”

After team practice, the coach called me with a proposal.

To say I didn’t see it coming would be a lie.

The role of the commander leading the team in a game is essential, and it became evident during the last practice that there wasn’t anyone suitable to fill that role.

It was only natural for the coach to point to me as the right fit while reviewing the in-game footage.

“In my opinion, there’s no one other than Mollru who can take on the order for the team. Initially, I thought it would be tough to handle the main order and main dealer at the same time, but after seeing your sniper play, that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“What if the sniper gets banned?”

“I have a feeling you might be banned too… but it would be tough for you to give orders while playing as a swordsman or any other dealer, right?”

“…I guess I’ll have to try it out to know.”

Order, order.

It wasn’t impossible.

There was a time when I confidently thought I had reached a somewhat amateur level while dreaming of being a pro.

Veteran pros, promising rookies making names for themselves, and trainees who abandoned the pro scene for personal streaming.

Now everyone’s scattered, but I remember a time when different humans came together to form a team for a common goal.

I wasn’t in charge of the main order, but I had learned a thing or two from watching and observing.

Even if it wasn’t strictly about the order, basic briefings were necessary if I aimed for the pro level.

Still, there were two significant reasons why I didn’t step forward in the last practice.

First, I wanted to observe my teammates’ skills and conditions for at least one round.

The second was… I felt a little burdened when it came to speaking a lot.

Not because my throat was dry or my voice hurt.

But it was a mental issue of wanting to keep my words to a minimum.

Honestly, I wasn’t completely comfortable with my voice yet.

I knew objectively that it was considered a pretty voice, something pleasant to listen to.

But I had a slight aversion to whether it truly was my voice.

Sometimes I startled myself when I heard it.

…This was also a problem I needed to overcome.

If I officially took over the order, I would have to keep talking nonstop during the game.

I would need to lead my teammates so they could play perfectly by themselves.

“Ha.”

I let out a small sigh.

Maybe it was for the best.

I would tackle this chronic issue with this opportunity.

Going out is no longer a problem, so I shouldn’t be unable to do this.

“I’ll take on the order.”

The coach visibly brightened.

The weight of infinite trust settled on my shoulders.

I had to prove to be worth the 650 points, after all.

They spent most of their points on recruiting me.

Once I resolved to do it properly, something else started worrying me.

Would my teammates actually follow my instructions?

Not just the order, but I also planned to take on the role of team leader to enhance my teammates’ lacking skills.

It was almost like being a coach.

The coach couldn’t manage all five players by himself.

Suddenly, the nightmare of group projects surfaced in my mind.

Memories of growing hate for humans from the past.

Surely, our team members wouldn’t be those types of humans.

I could only hope they would cooperate.

*

“So, Mollru will be taking on the role of team leader and order. Let’s give a round of applause!”

Cheers erupted from everyone.

The next day, the team gathered under the coach’s direction for a practice session and briefing.

It would have been shocking to hear that right after everyone had just gathered, but everyone accepted it without much reaction.

Was it because I was the highest tier?

“Okay, let’s get into today’s practice. We couldn’t set up a scrim, so we’ll just go for team rank instead.”

“Yes!”

“Let’s go, let’s go~”

Team rank games.

Unlike the rank games limited to two persons, this one is played in a team of five.

Not as systematic as scrims and with a lower skill level from our opponents, but given our current state, it fits well.

Following the coach’s instructions, the team members gathered in the team rank lobby.

Despite the disastrous loss we had recently, the mood wasn’t bad.

Team morale is crucial.

However, this cheerful atmosphere probably wouldn’t last long.

I loosened my throat and spoke with a serious heart.

“I have something to say.”

“Ah yes, Mollru.”

Skipping the usual pleasantries, I dove right into the necessary matters.

Amidst the murmuring, as I paused, the people quickly went silent.

I didn’t intend to create such a solemn atmosphere.

I recalled the internet saying that just opening your mouth makes everything awkward, but shook my head to dismiss it.

That wasn’t what mattered right now.

“Could you all take a quick look at the Discord screen?”

I clicked the mouse to bring up my computer screen.

One of Discord’s features, screen sharing.

After my conversation with the coach yesterday, I hastily created some materials with help from an editor.

“…What is this?”

“Uh, um,” responses came out as the coach, taking charge, asked.

Was it a bit random?

I focused on the material I had opened.

It was a photo of the 2002 World Cup hero, the legendary coach Guus Hiddink roaring.

I created this PPT with considerable effort yesterday.

Thinking I had gathered enough attention from everyone, I flipped to the next page.

“Teamwork?”

A high-pitched voice rang out in surprise.

There, in giant letters, was ‘Teamwork.’

Hiddink, with a serious expression, was clapping.

“We’re going to go with the Hiddink meta.”

“The Hiddink meta?”

There’s a strategy of coach Hiddink’s that led the 2002 World Cup to victory.

In a soccer game, regardless of age or experience, speak informally.

It was a method he devised for faster and more direct communication within a chaotic game.

I thought that approach would work well.

“We will use informal speech for all in-game briefings. To allow for more smooth and effective communication.”

“Uh… yes, I understand, but…”

Clears throat.

The coach trailed off and Tex cleared his throat.

Given that they are 34 and 29 years old, they are both older than Ji-eun, who is currently 23.

Such informality wouldn’t be easy in our Confucian society.

But still, given the somewhat open atmosphere of personal streaming, this was possible.

They didn’t seem too uncomfortable with it either.

However, they were being cautious with their words, waiting for someone to speak first.

Aside from the coach, who doesn’t communicate directly in-game, the oldest player was Cheolwoo.

He was 35, a streamer who began broadcasting at 25 and was now in his tenth year.

In a position of being the eldest member.

And given his large stature and masculine appearance, he had a big brother-like image in the organization.

There’s even a meme about how if you mess with him, you’d end up in a drum barrel.

Because of this, even streamers hesitated around him unless they were on friendly terms.

But I wasn’t worried.

In the past, I’d watched Cheolwoo’s streams occasionally, so I knew his personality.

He actually preferred to be at ease with those who treated him comfortably.

“Uh, are you all looking at my expressions? I’m fine. Just relax.”

In a light tone, Cheolwoo’s words made the rest of the team nod in agreement.

I clapped my hands to reinvigorate the atmosphere.

“That’s all for the announcements! Let’s play!”

“Mollru seems to have changed a bit…”

A soft voice from one of the women whispered.

I agreed internally.

There was a bit of an overly tense side to me now.

They say a position shapes a person, and I was already starting to feel a sense of responsibility as the team leader.

It felt like I had to lead these people.

Maybe the team members sensed that too, as they actively sought my advice.

“Team leader, what should I do?”

“Do what you’re confident in. Just not what you did yesterday.”

“Um… can you take a look at my screen for a second? I’m debating over the traits.”

After sincerely assisting, we began the game.

I quickly gave orders to the team members, who were awkwardly positioning themselves.

“Cheolwoo, raise your shield, and if it seems like it’s going to break, let me know and fall back a bit. Ryuah, don’t stray from Cheolwoo. Papi, take care of the whole team, and Tex, stay with me for frontal coverage and then back off once you see opportunities.”

“Ah, yes. No, um, okay.”

“Okay.”

The opposing team’s tier wasn’t particularly high.

It was just one tier below the Panoro team we scrimmed against.

The highest tier was Master and the lowest was Silver.

Our team had a skill level similar to theirs.

If I single-handedly carried, there’d be nothing left for others, so I intentionally held back a bit.

Just providing maybe one person’s worth of help.

Following my orders, the team members displayed decent plays.

They were exchanging attacks and defenses, getting a few kills, and ultimately… losing.

Not as embarrassingly as last time, it was a back-and-forth until suddenly the atmosphere flipped, and we lost the game.

So, what was the reason for our defeat?

There was no need to think too hard.

It was simply a difference in individual skill.

Lacking proficiency and bad play habits.

But there’s always room for improvement.

I quickly noted down the issues I observed from teammates while watching the last match.

Now, it was feedback time.

Let’s approach each person one by one, starting with the most concerning one.

“Tex.”

“Yes? Yes… Did you call for me?”

His voice was somewhere between gloomy and lacking in energy.

He seemed to have shrunk after thinking his contributions led to our recent defeat.

“Could you step over here for a moment?”

Can you really fight like that?

Follow me to the duel arena.

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