Chapter 27

Originally, when game companies select streamers for advertising, they usually base their decisions on iTube metrics.

The reason for this is the significant difference in audience scale between Travel and iTube viewers.

A streamer with 5,000 live viewers but 1 million iTube views versus a streamer with 10,000 live viewers but only 100,000 iTube views.

Which one would be better for promotion was as clear as day.

Of course, there were some exceptions.

If the viewer base had high loyalty, a large follower count with many Travel replays watched, and strong purchasing power, high rates could be set even with low iTube subscriber counts.

Of course.

‘Neither of those apply to me.’

iTube subscribers?

He didn’t even have a channel yet.

No, forget channel—he didn’t even have an account.

As for his viewer base, well, it had only been three days.

‘I think I heard they spread advertising extensively when launching new titles.’

This didn’t apply either.

“How about it, Seo-jun? Will you accept our proposal?”

“Thank you for the generous offer. Honestly, I’d like to sign a contract right away, but…”

“…But?”

“I’m a bit confused and have some questions. Why are you presenting conditions so favorable to me?”

Ten million won.

It wasn’t a huge amount.

Well, by major company standards.

For Seo-jun currently, even one million won would be good treatment.

He should be grateful just to have advertising offers coming in.

“Haha. Seo-jun, you’re quite a cautious person.”

“I was just curious.”

Could there be kindness without a price?

Seo-jun was smiling leisurely, but he was also considering backing out of the contract if necessary.

He’d cooperate, though.

And while Kim Yoon-chan might not have noticed, Eve Paymo seemed to have read such signs from Seo-jun.

“Hmm, I suppose we need to convince you.”

Eve Paymo chuckled heartily.

His slightly wrinkled blue eyes curved pleasantly.

“Simply put, it’s an investment. Team Leader Kim Yoon-chan here and I have watched all of your gameplay without missing any.”

Kim Yoon-chan nodded from beside him.

“We judged that you, Seo-jun, will achieve tremendous growth in the future. So we wanted to establish a relationship at the company level in advance. Actually, the teaser video being delayed isn’t a huge problem. Plus, by the time we do beta testing, we expect you will have grown much more. Simply put, it’s a win-win.”

Honest.

Now it made sense.

So this was buttering him up.

Getting on his good side in advance.

It was also a gift.

“Yes. Literally just us. Other company people don’t know.”

Kim Yoon-chan spoke up from the side.

“I’m the president, so what does it matter.”

Eve Paymo laughed good-naturedly.

And Seo-jun was shocked.

He was the president?

Kim Yoon-chan reached out to turn the contract around and began explaining various clauses to Seo-jun.

Everything was as they had said.

When the explanation was almost finished, Eve Paymo spoke to Seo-jun.

“Seo-jun. The advertisement can be for Assassin’s Dawn, but may I recommend one game?”

“What is it?”

“For the Murim.”

For the Murim.

It was a murim-style action game created by MovieSoft, containing stories that unfold on a fictional continent.

“With your skills, you’ll surely show incredible gameplay there. I’d like to see that.”

Eve Paymo was already prioritizing watching Seo-jun’s gameplay over promoting his company’s games.

“I’ll seriously consider it. But which country are you from, President?”

“Ah, I’m French.”

“Really? You speak Korean very well.”

“I had a brief study abroad experience in Korea.”

“I see. Is honesty a French virtue?”

“No. I just thought being honest would be better with you.”

Quite honest indeed.

As expected of a president, he was good at reading people.

Seo-jun smiled and picked up the contract as he stood.

“Thank you.”

“We’re the ones who should be grateful.”

“But what will you do if someone other than me collects all the Cosmos Fragments within a week?”

Seo-jun suddenly thought of Lee Dong-soo.

“Hmm. I don’t think it would be easy, but there is one promising user. Fortunately, they don’t stream, so we’re planning to just ask them not to make it public.”

The two were talking about the same person without knowing it.

And the fact that with Seo-jun’s cooperation, there was no need to ask Lee Dong-soo either.

After all, Lee Dong-soo was only playing Assassin’s Dawn because of Seo-jun.

“I see. Then I look forward to working with you in the future.”

Eve Paymo gripped Seo-jun’s hand and grinned.

“We’re looking forward to the synergy MovieSoft and Seo-jun will create together.”

* * *

As requested, instead of defeating a Ruler, Seo-jun began enjoying the game by engaging in various activities within Assassin’s Dawn.

He still ignored missions and quests, doing whatever he wanted as always.

And when Seo-jun showed no signs of catching a Ruler, some streamers had this thought,

Wouldn’t it be a jackpot if I dug up information about Cosmos Fragments first?

As that thinking spread, a weak trend of challenging Rulers began forming.

And the employer of iTube editor Han Ji-min had the same thought.

The problem was.

“Wicked woman.”

Han Ji-min sighed so deeply she could cave in the floor and buried herself deep in her chair.

[Just edit it a bit more to feel like this streamer.][2]

[I edited it, so please check it.][1]

[Hey][1]

[Please take a look][1]

Two days had passed and still no response.

It had been like this for a month.

She pressed her right hand firmly against her eyes.

“Haah. They say there’s no blood, tears, family, or friends when it comes to money.”

Han Ji-min felt like chewing up the friend and employer who had once dreamed of the future together and shared worries with her.

“I should have known when she kept nitpicking strange details.”

A year and a half ago, Han Ji-min was just learning video editing.

She discovered a small streamer by chance and while enjoying watching the broadcast, heard that they were struggling with iTube because they were editing alone.

She sent work samples to the small streamer with the intention of growing together, and their partnership began from then.

The small streamer couldn’t give Han Ji-min a stable monthly salary, so instead suggested they share iTube revenue 50-50, saying they’d struggle together when times were tough and prosper together when times were good.

“I shouldn’t have made that verbal promise then.”

What good was regret now?

For the first six months, Han Ji-min had focused madly on editing even in truly difficult circumstances.

The subscriber count then was 217.

There was no way there could be revenue.

Even so, Han Ji-min and the streamer worked together in solidarity, enduring difficult times together.

Han Ji-min created one video per day without sleeping, growing the iTube channel.

As Han Ji-min’s editing skills improved, the channel gradually began catching the algorithm, and around six months later she hit 30,000 subscribers and revenue started coming in.

“It was good until then.”

Han Ji-min’s life became comfortable, and eight months passed smoothly.

The channel was soon approaching 100,000 subscribers.

Live streaming also gained viewers thanks to iTube.

And as income gradually increased, she hired another editor, but problems arose.

“People are really petty.”

Han Ji-min looked at the monitor on her desk.

There was video of a person she’d been sick of watching for almost a year and a half.

A month ago, she fought with the employer she’d believed was a friend.

The reason was that Han Ji-min was taking too much for an editor.

When she was the one who had actually built the channel.

“Huh. She thinks channel management is easy.”

She closed the editing program.

It seemed time to end this relationship.

She wasn’t even sending this month’s revenue.

It left a bitter taste.

“What? Edit it to feel more like this streamer? You know it’s beyond my skill level, damn it.”

She had trusted her as a friend.

She thought they’d grown closer than anyone while struggling through difficult times together.

So she never expected to be betrayed like this.

The betrayal made her shake with rage and want to cry.

“What do I have left now?”

Essentially, a nest egg that had accumulated because she’d been too busy with editing work to spend money well.

And editing skills?

Her vision blurred.

It felt like a year and six months were being completely denied.

Still, she shouldn’t stop working.

She entered an editor recruitment site for the first time in ages.

And she discovered a post.

“……”

Ironically, it was the streamer from the video her former employer had sent.

A person whose skills were incomparable to anyone.

That person was looking for freelancers to edit some videos right away.

And if things worked out after talking, they were also considering an exclusive editor.

“You’re also sharing revenue? Alright, let’s see if you’ll write a contract. If you’re thinking of exploiting me without writing one, I won’t let it slide.”

Han Ji-min sent an email to Seo-jun for now.

* * *

-You’re catching a Ruler tomorrow? Finally lol

-The real deal is coming.

-Watching other streamers fail until now made me realize you’re on another level

-Finally T_T

-Honestly, using those skills for pickpocketing and mini-games was crossing the line.

-Really, if you’re gonna do that, give me those skills

“Alright everyone, see you tomorrow.”

-Damn!

-Bye!

-Later!

Click.

Seo-jun turned off the stream and emerged from the capsule.

After washing up, he sat at his computer and checked his email.

[The teaser video is complete.]

[(Advertisement) ★929 times 1st place/996 times 2nd place wins★, ‘Winning Number Prediction’ free event!! This time might be your turn]

[Seo-jun-nim, if you only play Assassin’s Dawn on your broadcasts, your stream might fail, so as a fan, let me give you one piece of advice…]

[Reporting. mijhvn0216 used profanity.]

First, he saw MovieSoft’s email saying the teaser video was complete so he could do whatever he wanted now.

Various advertisements and emails from viewers giving unsolicited advice about his broadcasts made up the majority.

There were no editor application emails.

“Tsk.”

On the first and second days after he publicly recruited editors, several videos had been uploaded.

But among them, there were no videos that caught Seo-jun’s fancy.

No matter how much they were fans, he couldn’t hire an editor lacking in skill.

“I’ve secured at least two videos to upload to iTube though.”

One was a collaboration video that Alpaca’s editor Lee Su-han had helped with, and one was an edited version of his first broadcast commissioned from an editor recruitment site.

Seo-jun played the video he’d received from an editor named Han Ji-min.

His impression,

“Clean and concise with no excess. Are they experienced?”

A voice came from behind Seo-jun.

“Yeah.”

Seo-jun, who had already sensed Tae-woo’s approach from the sound, answered.

“Going to sign an exclusive contract with that person?”

“Hmm…”

Seo-jun wanted to entrust the entire channel to an editor.

He judged that would be more efficient.

And for that, he’d heard from Lee Su-han that it was much better if the editor was a fan who watched all the broadcasts.

“We’re talking about it. I commissioned a few videos first, and their skills are definitely good.”

“Really? If you can get them, definitely do it.”

If he couldn’t find an editor, he was thinking of joining an MCN.

“Yeah. But let me wait a bit longer. That person might not accept the offer either.”

The two stared intently at the monitor for a moment.

“That’s true. Or look for them directly. Scout someone yourself from among those who uploaded fan videos.”

After saying that, Tae-woo patted the chair Seo-jun was sitting in and went to his own room.

Tae-woo always checked if Seo-jun was doing well after each broadcast ended.

Seo-jun followed Tae-woo’s advice and went to iTube.

And searched.

“What should I search for?”

Nameless.

Peerless.

Rulers.

Streamer fan videos.

And so on.

No matter how much he searched, nothing came up.

Seo-jun gave up and just wanted to see how other people did it, so he searched for editor application videos.

But he saw a familiar iTube account nickname.

[Public Toilet Brick Theft King]

He’d been watching his streams continuously, but had remained silent about the manager request.

Seo-jun looked at that video.

157 views with a title that just said ‘.’.

The phrase ‘Editor application video for streamer Seo-jun’ written in the video description caught Seo-jun’s attention.

“Why is it public? And… I don’t think I saw it in the emails.”

Seo-jun checked his inbox and trash folder again.

He wondered if he’d accidentally deleted it.

Upon checking just to make sure, it turned out he hadn’t missed anything.

‘Let me watch it first.’

After a while.

Having checked the video, Seo-jun rested his chin in his hand and fell into thought.

“This is really good. Why didn’t they send an email?”