It’s not that kind of malicious broadcast

-Boom

A fierce yet honorable duel was supposed to end with praise for the victor and respect for the vanquished, they said.

-Boom

But naturally—not all duels were honorable, especially for the losers.

At the end of the intense duel, the victor stood triumphantly over the dying body of the rogue, twirling a staff. Rather than applause, the viewers erupted into collective laughter.

If this had been a real coliseum rather than an internet broadcast, the laughter would have reverberated enough to shake the heavens and earth. But instead, -Boom

the quiet studio echoed only with the recurring vwoom sound effects and the clacking of keyboards, the background music having long ended.

This scene couldn’t have more clearly shown who the victor was. Although it didn’t really fit the grand background of KoK.

.

.

.

It was a common game broadcast setup. Most of the screen was occupied by the game, with a small webcam window in the right corner.

Nevertheless, the viewers’ attention was riveted to that tiny square.

Naturally so.

In the tiny webcam window in the right corner, an older man clutched his head in despair, letting out groans. This man was actually the CEO who had practically built the game’s framework from scratch—

And the woman next to him, whose lips twitched slightly, was none other than GetDevoured. She had a litany of achievements. She had claimed the number one ranking in KoK’s Season 1 and had created and disseminated various builds within just a few weeks.

The builds she spread dominated the meta until they were curbed by emergency patches—

One of her builds even earned a shoutout as the key contributor to the first World Series victory. As a broadcaster, she also held the current record for the most concurrent viewers on Tweet.

These were achievements most KoK broadcasters could only dream of, yet they dangled from her like ripe fruit.

She had also achieved the dubious honor of “calling the CEO and beating him up live”, which most KoK broadcasters wouldn’t even want to achieve in their nightmares.

Of course, with her rhythmic keyboard tapping and slight swaying, she wasn’t concerned about that. After all, the twirling staff motion didn’t even exist for priests.

So, her staff was spinning in sync with her rhythmic keyboard inputs, generating the sound each time it completed a rotation. Perhaps laughter had slipped her mind as she was deeply immersed in the rhythm.

Yena’s reddish lips slowly curved into a smile.

A few seconds passed.

Finally, seemingly satisfied and smiling broadly, she stood up from her seat abruptly and said, “Alright. Shall we print out the picture of the loser?”

“Wait, hold on a second. Was this about deciding who gets the funeral? We also had a mutually agreed photo, didn’t we-”

“The world of competition is ruthless.”

-Huhuh

Those frequently watching her broadcast were quite taken aback. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t because of her meticulous provocations.

Though it was her first time doing a webcam broadcast… wasn’t she known for not showing much joy of victory? Even after dramatic wins, her best expression had been, “The rogue was really good.”

Was it because it was a one-on-one duel? But then, it wasn’t her first time engaging viewers in one-on-one fights for various reasons. When she had decapitated a current challenger viewer, she simply muttered, “Shall we look for the next one?” in an even-toned voice.

So why was she smiling so brightly after just beating a diamond-ranked opponent, that too the game company’s CEO?

Was her grudge against Faraday that deep?

Or, had she always smiled brightly every time she won, just out of the camera’s sight?

『Why are you smiling like that? Why are you smiling like that? Why are you smiling like that? Why are you smiling like that? Why are you smiling like that?』

『BEATEN BY A LITTLE GIRL LOLZ🤣 BEATEN BY A LITTLE GIRL LOLZ🤣 BEATEN BY A LITTLE GIRL LOLZ🤣 BEATEN BY A LITTLE GIRL LOLZ🤣』

『My horn hurts… My horn hurts… My horn hurts… My horn hurts…』

『👎FATALITY👎 👎FATALITY👎 👎FATALITY👎 👎FATALITY👎 👎FATALITY👎』

『Her smiling eyes are insane, seriously』

『❤ATM❤ATM❤ATM❤ATM❤ATM❤ATM❤ATM❤』

『Feeling pain from a fat, middle-aged man, just cut it off, you guys』

『Nerf GetDevoured instead of the rogue』

『STREAMERBETS. AO 『- BET ON ATM TO MAKE FREE $$$』

This message was permanently blocked and removed.

『Damn, this woman! Like a fox with a thousand years of mischief… It reminds me of that shy Margie from 50 years ago! I’ll gladly offer my stored vitality to you!』

This message was permanently blocked and removed.

『LOVE FROM GERMANY 💖』

『She is cute』

『Please sue those people taking grotesque concepts』

“🙇 ALL HAIL ATM THE GODDESS OF BEAUTY 🙇 ALL HAIL ATM THE GODDESS OF BEAUTY 🙇 ALL HAIL ATM THE GODDESS OF BEAUTY 🙇”

“Wow”

“🚑 🚑 🚑 🚑 HELP! JD’S PRIDE GOT SLAUGHTERED! 🚑 🚑 🚑 🚑”

“Isn’t T-bagging with that face just a reward?”

“The CEO’s face though LOL”

“Why are there so many foreigners, damn it?”

Either way, the chat had long reached an uncontrollable level.

The number of viewers had surpassed 100,000 and was still climbing. Yena had suddenly become the most-watched broadcaster on FanTube worldwide—

Whether she knew this or not, she came back into the camera frame, hurriedly running with something fluttering in her hand.

And what she revealed, obscuring the camera—

“Hmm… Is it not showing well? I replaced the previous photo with a slightly older one. The reason… um, it’s nothing.”

It was a large printed photo of J. Dox, about 10 years ago, when he was still a college student with a full head of hair.

Naturally, the controversy section on her wiki was once again being updated in real-time—but Yena’s fans, who tuned into the broadcast, felt assured that she was hardly concerned about such controversies or criticisms.

Though it was unclear what caused her erratic behavior, today she had returned with her usual nonchalant demeanor.

As fans, they could only pray for her to avoid controversy by sheer luck, having been drawn to a broadcaster who had no intention of avoiding it herself.

Whether she knew the fans’ concerns or not.

“… Just use a current photo instead.”

“Sorry, but I don’t listen to people weaker than me.”

Yena quietly smiled again, adding in a barely audible voice.

“Especially not to someone who ran away after losing.”

Her whispers were so soft that even the high-quality studio microphone couldn’t pick them up. In that little set, there was no one who understood Korean, and so her words dispersed, misunderstood by all.

.

.

.

No matter the case, perhaps holding a memorial for someone still alive was too much. Though she seemed to relish the thrill of victory, Yena eventually placed a portrait of a rogue in the frame.

With a short comment: “It’s sad.”

Whether she had studied up on it, the procedure was quite genuine. Pouring drink, setting the meal, bowing, presenting flowers found from somewhere, and incense offering…

Even if it was a simplified version, it was a rather solemn and proper memorial. It might have caused quite the controversy if she had actually used J. Dox’s photo.

If it weren’t for Yena’s revealed back when she bowed twice, there might have been a somewhat solemn atmosphere.

The aura she carried was too powerful to maintain the reverent mood.

The chat window, which was instantly filled with people admiring her physique, remained difficult to manage despite the strenuous efforts of the moderators and Dodat’s 20 managers. However, surprisingly, the chaos didn’t last long.

“No matter what, yes. Isn’t it fun, KoK?”

Yena’s voice, as she sat back down and spoke with a sense of relief, managed to captivate the viewers’ attention with a peculiar charm.

“I hope it continues to be fun. Altogether. Honestly, deep down, I kind of gave up, thinking it was a doomed game anyway.”

-Laughing sound

A few chats came up, playfully criticizing her for badmouthing in front of the CEO, but the general response was, “now?” which was expected.

It was a good point. Come to think of it, most of the things they’d done till now were scarcely appropriate to do in front of the CEO anyway.

“Still, yes. I believe now. There’s a CEO who is genuinely this serious about the game. Faraday will surely, surely show us an even more enjoyable Season 2.”

“……How about stopping the magic trick and starting with the praises?”

“I’ll consider it if you tell me your main account.”

“What does that matter—no, besides, there’s no way I’d tell you. If my main account gets revealed, I couldn’t play comfortably on KoK.”

“Then……it can’t be helped. I don’t listen to people weaker than me.”

-Laughing sound

Repeating what she said a moment ago, Yena gracefully stood up facing the camera.

Was it a bit tight to bow? Her neatly tucked white dress shirt had come loose, hanging out from her suit pants.

The front part swayed ever so gently in sync with her steps. The chat window, which had momentarily calmed down, intensified again. Now, even the managers were about to give up. Only one manager, whomever it was, fought bravely as if they had ten hands.

How much time had passed before she reached the camera. A white hand, hesitant about adjusting the camera angle, soon withdrew as if giving up—

Yena, slightly bending to fit her face into the frame, smiled softly.

“I had a great time on the broadcast today. Thank you to everyone who joined.”

With a slight delay, the greeting was outputted in English—understanding that she was preparing to end the broadcast, the chat window predictably erupted. The uproar of over 100,000 people ensued.

Don’t go, you’re too pretty, what makeup do you use, where did you get your clothes, please one more game, sing just one song, play even the ocarina……the chat window, overloaded with excessive input, became nearly unreadable.

Existing fans and newcomers were mixed together, all chanting for ‘a little more, just a little more.’

“When the person who has gone away returns…… I’ll come back. So, till then, everyone goodbye—”

“Wait, let me say goodbye too—”

Overlapping audio and a final wave of a trembling white hand at the camera—

With that, CravingWarmAmericano’s broadcast ended without lingering.

Leaving behind a reality-refusing crowd of over 100,000 people.