It’s not that kind of malicious broadcast

-『User』 has donated ₩1,000!-

【No wonder the CEO seems like a malicious rogue fan】

Was it the ripple effect of the single donation announcing a notice? The TTS about this patch flowed endlessly. Well… if you didn’t know at first, you wouldn’t care, but once you knew, it was obviously inevitable.

Nevertheless, I persistently refrained from checking the patch notes… It wasn’t really because of a contrarian spirit.

It was simply because I hadn’t prepared any additional broadcasting phone in advance. Since I originally came without even thinking about broadcasting. This phone was my only camera, transmitter, and internet access device.

Until I retrieved the phone that was held out to capture the vivid nature as is, I truly had no way to check the patch notes.

Honestly, if I considered the viewers… I also thought it was right to delay checking for a while now. The promised 30 minutes hadn’t passed yet. They would be immersed in the sound of the rain, and it would be a bit wrong to interrupt unexpectedly.

A promise is a promise, after all.

Even so… it was true that my curiosity was inflating.

Hearing updates and not sneaking a peek is a sad habit of gamers. At the moment when the rain seemed to be letting up, I carefully attempted to negotiate.

“Hmm… the rain is stopping. It seems difficult to keep listening to the rain sounds… It hasn’t been 30 minutes yet, but can I check the patch notes for a moment?”

The chat window of the extended phone was not easy to check. But, at a glance, there appeared to be a lot of positive signs.

As expected, the chat speed of those trained by KoK was no joke. Considering the possibility that loud minority opinions occupied the chat window, I slowly retrieved the phone.

Even though many viewers preferred the peaceful nature camping vibe, there were also quite a few who, scared off by the overhyped atmosphere, chose to stay silent… but there would be an opportunity to cater to them soon.

Thus, finally came the time to glance over the patch notes.

For a moment, I doubted my eyes.

The scope of the rogue nerf had been drastically reduced- and some of the misdirected nerfs were corrected entirely. The ones that meddled with stamina or reduced the maximum duration of stealth steps… such unreasonable changes got removed.

It was an extremely commendable patch.

Though they mentioned that most patches would be applied sequentially due to excessive workload, that was understandable.

I could be content just with seeing the direction set right. After all, wasn’t this the company that tried to make online play a paid service in a previous life? This level deserved gratitude.

They did well after all.

Even though I didn’t write a single line of code, maybe I could think I contributed just a little bit. No one would acknowledge it, but I wanted to think so.

However, if asked how I felt about it… well.

… Of course, I should have felt good. How long had I been striving for this? Even if it wasn’t a thrilling sense of accomplishment, I had believed without a doubt that I would feel a sense of pride in achieving my goal.

However, as I read through the patch notes, all I could think was that this must be the “good news” J. Dox had hinted at.

If someone had poked me right at that moment and asked me for my honest feelings… I would probably have responded with something like “thank goodness”.

It was fortunate for me as well that it didn’t end with a severe, explosive fallout. Despite everything, KoK was still KoK to me… Even if the friendship had faded over time, Faraday was a company where a friend was a representative.

It certainly was fortunate.

But beyond that, I felt nothing.

Neither the joy nor the relief I had expected to come naturally. On the contrary, this elicited a bewildering sense of fortune, coupled with something churning deep in my gut.

Trying to ignore this visceral discomfort, my eyes quickly skimmed through the remaining notifications.

One-on-one mode, a new tree unlocked… the bold text announcing the addition of a new trait line called the Assassin Tree, and informing about the Clash Tournament…

It was an uncertain future.

What is this? Clash Mode? I’d never heard of it before…

While I struggled to calm my increasingly rapid breaths, trying to get accustomed to this unfamiliar sense of estrangement. Where anxiety and nausea should have taken residence, now joy and anticipation were blossoming.

Yet, why did my heart start to flutter pleasantly amid all this?

I needed time to sort out my thoughts.

* * * *

《… Just a moment, just a moment.》

The screen flickered intermittently, displaying the inside of a tent. Due to having to repeatedly tap the screen to access the site where the patch notes were posted.

『It feels like my teeth are being ground down to nothing, teacher』

『Please, can we just abandon these early approaches』

『No』

『🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥』

『I feel strange, nuna…』

Naturally, viewers complaining of pain had become a common occurrence.

While their reasons for complaining were justified, their methods of doing so were anything but.

Several managers were struggling valiantly, but blocking each one individually was an enormous task. Ultimately, it took less than a minute for Lee Yena’s familiar and cherished chatroom – filled more with emojis than text and boasting four-line chats rather than single-liners – to reappear.

One wondered whether she was even aware of this.

The camera continued to only show the tent wall and a drab-colored sleeping bag. The movement had lessened by now.

《…… Really……》

Her voice, slightly trembling and trailing off, was rare. It was a rare glimpse into her emotional turmoil—more vivid now than when verifying the nerf information. Even half of the viewers, usually engrossed in creating chaos, were taken aback, causing the frenzied atmosphere in the chat to change in an instant.

During the rain of question marks asking if she was crying,

– Sssss…

In the silence, only the soft sound of Lee Yena breathing in slightly unsteadily before exhaling slowly echoed.

How many minutes had passed like this?

《Hmm… It seems difficult to read the patch notes while broadcasting. Can’t focus properly and, it’s on mobile.》

After finding a bit of composure, her words were like this.

Had she meant to stop the broadcast or to skip reading the patch notes? Whatever the interpretation, the conclusion was not satisfying for the viewers.

– Why are you like this when even your husband has returned?

– 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

– I think I’m going crazy, seriously.

– I seriously thought you were crying.

– Why are you throwing a fit now about the patch when you went through all the effort to steal, teacher…

– Look, sometimes you throw a fit just because you want to, bear with it.

– Is this the end of the broadcast?

– I really want to punch you hard in the chest.

It was natural for the chat to reignite into an uproar instantly. The atmosphere that had seemed on the verge of a turnaround a moment ago had disappeared without a trace.

– Were you seriously making us wait 30 minutes just to watch the rain?… What were you thinking?

Lee Yena glanced at the chat window filled with grievances. Without much concern, she briefly turned off the camera.

Then, a few moments later. Accompanied by a slight rattling sound, the screen brightened to reveal a small clearing.

It was ground that had just seen rain a short while ago, with several small puddles forming. The earthy scent seemed to emanate subtly from the soil. It was a scene of pure, unaltered nature.

The only artificial elements were a few adult-sized stones scattered at one side, a fire pit, and a pile of firewood next to it. Wherever this place was, it certainly wasn’t a designated campsite.

There were no sounds of other people – no organized facilities, not even a defined spot for a campfire.

Into this tranquil scene, Lee Yena walked nonchalantly, carrying a folding camping chair in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Dressed in sweatpants and a seemingly bulky hoodie, her attire, combined with her presence, looked both casual and chic. As sunlight streamed through the gaps in the clouds, she effortlessly opened her camping chair in a manner that seemed almost elegant, like a scene from a movie.

Even though she had reappeared after a lengthy 30-minute absence, the chat was filled with pure admiration and cheers, pleading for her to continue just like that.

It was a hope difficult to fulfill.

《As usual, it’s going to be hard to pay close attention to the chat. My phone is far away. Please understand.》

Yena said as she picked up the fire pit, bowing toward the camera. Indeed, she wasn’t wrong. To secure the camera angle, some distance had to be maintained.

– ㅇㅇ has donated 1,000 won! –

【It’s like you’re suggesting you normally pay attention to the chat when it’s close, dear teacher】

Lee Yena didn’t specifically respond to the sharp donation comment. She simply fixed the fire pit and picked up a few sticks.

《Then… since we’re short on time, let’s get the fire started. Not to boast, but I’m quite good at lighting fires.》

And thus began the real camping broadcast.

《There seem to be a lot of people asking why it’s short… The truth is, this wasn’t a planned broadcast, and I don’t have a charger. So… if the broadcast suddenly cuts out, just assume the battery died.》

A broadcast that could end at any moment.

– ㅇㅇ has donated 1,000 won! –

【??? What percent is your battery at right now】

《If I tell you that, it won’t be as fun, will it? The thrill of the wilderness comes from the unexpected.》