It’s not that kind of malicious broadcast

“… Are you sure it’s okay to end it like this? I don’t know much about broadcasting, but won’t there be an uproar?”

“It’s alright. Everyone secretly wanted it to end at the climax anyway. Besides, it was getting a bit too crowded.”

It was difficult for him to understand the reasoning fully. But, surely, there was a reason behind it. J. Dox hadn’t watched a lot of internet broadcasts, but he knew that each broadcaster formed their own unique culture.

Perhaps such an ending was part of her unique culture. Given that, he had no right to criticize this kind of conclusion.

“Still, um.”

Despite that, he couldn’t help but voice his regret.

“Do you feel unsatisfied?”

The voice was low. She didn’t seem tired before, but maybe she was now. Reclining deeply in her chair, Yena slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. He couldn’t read any emotions from her calm, placid gaze.

Unsatisfied? Could she mean… the game rather than the broadcast? If they were a bit closer, he might have thought she was teasing him.

Still, if he were truly honest—he would have liked to play at least one more round. Even if he lost again, to face her rogue against rogue.

Of course, this wasn’t the time for such indulgence. From the moment he appeared on this broadcast, his phone had been ringing off the hook, forcing him to mute it.

It certainly was company-related. Probably from the legal team… or the IR and investment management teams.

Even so—

“Of course, I’m unsatisfied! Honestly, ah—if I’d linked it when I got devoured earlier, it might’ve been a different story. That crystallization—what was that? Why didn’t the sword pierce through? The armor was already breached, so there was no reason for a second defense… Is that a technique you can use intentionally?”

“Yes. I cast the armor regeneration buff with a delay. As the breach was filled, crystallization triggered immediately.”

“… Armor regeneration? If you’ve invested in three survival traits and that too… you don’t have any healing. What kind of cra— I mean, person would craft a priest with such traits?”

“Right? What kind of crazy people would make such traits? I think, probably more than one.”

For some reason, he felt like none of it mattered.

A moment of silence followed.

The still studio had about three hours left on the rental time. Amid the humming cooler sounds, Yena’s words about hoping KoK would continue to be fun seemed to linger in the air.

And with it, the enthusiastic responses from the hundred thousand viewers chatting along.

It had been a while since he felt this way. Excitement stirred by the playthrough of a game he had created, and the raw… emotion conveyed by those who were enthralled by it.

The fact that the subject was his humiliating defeat was a bit… well, that was something.

In a way, it made it even more poignant.

When had he started thinking of users as mere numbers? Was it when he no longer had time to keep up with the game, losing the ability to connect with them?

Perhaps it was when he became shackled by the constraints of the ‘C’-shaped handcuffs. Or maybe it had been right from the start, succumbing to the demands of investors—

“What have I been doing?” he thought.

What was clear was that he was exhausted. To the point where he had neglected KoK, his greatest creation and love, watching it deteriorate.

He had handed over his façade of an executive position, delegating more downwards and focusing on tasks that only served the company’s image. In his past self, he might have scoffed at such nonsense and told them to stick to planning properly.

Suddenly, something seemed to stir and kindle deep within his chest.

“GetDevoured?”

“Yes.”

“We’re planning on making special skins. It’s one of our business models. We’re thinking of selling cosmetic items through a gacha system… it’s one of the proposals. It’s better than creating new characters by chopping up existing ones, isn’t it?”

This business model had been shelved due to one of the founding lead designers’ resistance against tainting their hard-crafted cosmetic items with dirty capital.

He had understood that sentiment and had taken their side, but—

“… You’re right.”

Not anymore.

Perhaps the design tablets would fly across the office again. But who cared? If he could tap into his boxing reflexes from the old days, maybe he could dodge them.

And—

“If you don’t mind, I think it would be quite popular if we made a skin based on GetDevoured’s concept. Oh, not the face—just the concept and the name motif. Should I discuss it with your attorney?”

A bit of personal desire mingled there—enough, he thought, to be permissible.

No more, no less, just enough to be a true fan.

“…… It’s okay. Do whatever is comfortable for you. I’ve added you on KoK, so you can contact me there.”

“Thank you! Then, I’ll get in touch through our legal team. I have to go now; I need to get scolded here and there… and go fight here and there too. It was a pleasure.”

With that farewell, he was about to leave, gathering up the briefcase he had left in a corner.

“Oh, wait. There are… two conditions, though.”

Yena held up two fingers with her fair hand, her slightly sorrowful smile seemingly trying to hold him back.

“Quit smoking, and get a health check-up every week… no, every month.”

Was her sense of smell so sharp that she could detect the scent of a cigarette smoked the day before, given her top-notch ranking in VR games? It seemed unlikely.

“… Smoking, how… can you smell it? I didn’t smoke before coming here. And, how am I supposed to get a health check-up every month-”

A flustered J. Dox stammered, questioning her, but-

“Skin, it’s a condition. It’s fine if the royalties are low instead.”

The playful, smiling Yena from moments before had vanished. Now she spoke with a serious expression, her brows furrowed.

“…… Alright. The industry’s top broadcaster’s trademark fee for the CEO’s health management. If investors find out, they might throw a party. I’ll get the most expensive check-ups every month. With the company’s money.”

As his rigid expression eased slightly, his joke seemed to have worked. Her furrowed brows relaxed a bit, but-

“… Just in case, quit drinking too. Should you lose weight? Hmm… Anyway, live healthily. Healthily. I don’t know what exactly is bad, but just don’t do any of those things.”

In the end, she just heaped on more nagging and then clamped her mouth shut. Was giving health-related nagging a part of Korean culture when parting ways? Or was Yena just particularly prone to unsolicited advice?

Whatever the reason, it was not something to say to someone you had met only twice.

However-

It wasn’t the right moment for misunderstandings or jokes.

In the heavy atmosphere, Yena waved her hand as if she didn’t want to talk anymore. It was similar to the way she pressed the end button after tens of thousands of fans’ clamor had subsided.

Wanting to be alone… he thought that if she could banish him with just one button, she might have already done so. That’s the impression her gaze gave.

And yet, there was a lingering regret. Was there no apt farewell phrase? A yearning to face her again, as a rogue against rogue… or maybe knight against knight. He wanted to clash once more…

Even if his own wife wouldn’t believe it, he meant it sincerely.

For him, Yena was more than just a woman; she was a fellow KoK user and had begun to appear as an obstacle he longed to surmount.

It was due to the understanding revealed in that priest’s build. An anti-carry type build meticulously designed as a counter to an all-offensive rogue.

Some might have thought she was simply toying with his opponent through sheer physical skill, but to him, the effort and time invested into that build were evident. She was of the same ilk. Based on a deep understanding of the game, she carved out strategies and tactics to create counters—

If only given the chance.

If he could meet again online, and face one-on-one, how delightful would that be?

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy. The physical difference was evident. But after some research time, if he could carve out a customized killer build and compete, who knows what might happen?

That one-on-one in KoK, which he created and loved, was precisely that. Even if ranked number one, if struck by a razor-sharp blade, they would fall…

But no, not now.

For him now, such research and fights were nothing but greedy luxuries. Even fighting day and night to overturn patches and normalize the operational direction left no time to spare.

Building alliances meant he couldn’t neglect social networking. Meanwhile, the management and executives of this damn company had long started frequenting pubs, clubs, golf courses, and bars instead of the battlefield during breaks—thus, he had to do the same.

‘…I can’t possibly comply with the request to quit drinking.’

Such a thought flitted through J. Dox’s mind. But so what? CravingWarmAmericano and Yena standing before him surely wouldn’t mind, right? If only KoK could return to its original glory…

After all, they’d only met twice so far.

‘Still, let’s get a check-up at least…no, once every three weeks.’

“Then, I’ll be in touch. Thank you for your hard work.”

As he said goodbye and waved, Yena, who stood up from her seat, hesitated for a moment before deeply bowing and softly waving back.

She looked somewhat sad—and bitter.

Burning with even more desire to normalize the rogue and KoK as soon as possible, J. Dox waved back even more vigorously. Perhaps he should have offered a handshake as well, he thought.

Thoughts of quitting the company after finishing the Asia branch tour and returning to his hometown of Frankfurt, Germany to make indie games again vanished cleanly.

As he abandoned his half-decided retirement plan and pondered where to bulldoze through first upon returning to headquarters, his phone continually received an endless stream of messages and emails.

Contrary to his fears, they weren’t criticisms or demands for an explanation for appearing on a private broadcast without consulting anyone. Of course, there were about a dozen emails that arrived shortly after the appearance was revealed at the bottom of his inbox.

The content of the more recent emails, however, was closer to admiration and praise. They included reports of astonishingly sharp increases in the number of logins and subscribers.

In an era where game companies interested in games themselves were rare, the image of him, with eyes gleaming as he explained his company’s game in an interview, drenched in sweat as he focused on the game, and even successfully attacking the ranking number one, CravingWarmAmericano (ATM), with a fervent sincerity towards games, his appearance began to stir tremendous reactions across all sorts of S*S platforms.