Chapter 28: Broadcast ON

There were surprisingly many settings to tweak for the internet broadcast held in virtual reality.

“With the streaming service, you have to adjust the camera’s viewpoint and set up the lighting individually. Every game has different locations, and with that, different atmospheres.”

“Do I really need to do this for each game?”

“Yes. It’s a bit of a hassle, but you have to do it for every game. You’re going to play Soul Warfare, right? No other games planned?”

I shook my head and replied.

Since it was my first broadcast, I didn’t have the luxury of exploring other games just yet.

“Yeah, for now.”

“Good. Then let’s start by creating the room.”

First, I created a private broadcast.

I made a secret room for each mode of Soul Warfare, adjusting the lighting and camera angles as if molding clay.

Dayoung, as the only viewer of the private broadcast, checked to make sure there were no problems.

If I had been broadcasting alone, I would’ve been like a lost child drifting on a vast ocean.

Dayoung’s care was, after all, proof of the equipment’s reliability.

I couldn’t help but praise my past self for pulling her into my broadcast.

“The equipment is great, so I really like this. No issues with sensitivity or anything.”

“Really? I didn’t notice much.”

“This is the Moses limited edition, the latest model. You’ve never used another model, have you? It’ll probably feel a bit restrictive. The sensitivity, the settings… all of that.”

‘Was that so?’ I tilted my head, unsure.

The only other model I’d used was the one in the Warfever-marked VR room at the opening match.

I didn’t feel a huge difference between the two devices.

After about an hour of busy adjustments, things were starting to come together.

‘Now that I think about it, it’s strange. Back in my day, there were a lot of people who avoided showing their faces.’

“Yeah? Ever since virtual reality came out, there’s almost no one left… Ah, you’ve been in the other world for over ten years, right? So you wouldn’t know.”

“Then I wouldn’t know,” she nodded in agreement.

The reason faces became more commonly shown was simple, as Dayoung explained.

Like the colors of a rainbow blooming, tattoos, dyed hair, and other changes could drastically alter one’s appearance.

It was an era where you could make a dramatic return with just a dot on your face, like a newly introduced character.

Even though the facial features of a scanned avatar remain the same, this kind of character customization allowed for minimal exposure of the real face.

Because of this, more and more people were broadcasting with their faces showing… as Dayoung had said.

The power of future technology, bridging the gap between streamers and viewers.

It was something to see as time went on.

“Okay, it’s all set. Now, we just need to come up with a title. You decide, unnie.”

Hmm, I pondered for a moment, then typed in a title that came to mind.

‘Fucking Sexy Concept F-Cup Heroine’s Soul Warfare Exposure Broadcast.’

“Unnie.”

Ah, a chill ran down my spine from behind me.

Like some alien grabbing the gauntlet, I quickly deleted the title and came up with a new one.

Right, I shouldn’t lose my humanity and sanity here.

After a brief pause, I decided to keep it simple.

Just like how I changed my ID earlier…

‘Friede, Soul Warfare Broadcast.’

“Well, that’s simple. A good choice.”

Dayoung, who had been watching from behind, responded with a nonchalant look.

“If it’s you, unnie, you don’t really need a provocative title. Your nickname itself is enough to draw attention.”

“Mm.”

‘Why does it seem like she’s more satisfied than I am?’

It was time.

The broadcast went live…

***

It began in the MS room.

Sitting blankly in front of a neat table, I checked on the dual monitor set up with broadcaster privileges to make sure everything was working.

Fortunately, the broadcast screen was capturing my image correctly.

That’s right.

I was now broadcasting.

Normally, my mind would have been filled with various thoughts, but now, it felt like they had all been bleached white, and I found myself staring at the number of viewers displayed on the chat panel without thinking.

Only one viewer…

For today, Dayoung, who was acting as the temporary admin, was the only one watching.

She would probably be watching from somewhere else by now.

So, in the vast MS room, an awkward silence filled the air.

“Ahh…”

Bored, I tested the microphone.

I already knew from Dayoung that it was working fine, but…

I felt like it would help me loosen up and get more comfortable with the situation.

“It’s not working.”

I had expected dozens of viewers to join right away.

The one-on-one duel, which had caused a nuclear controversy, had received a very enthusiastic response, so maybe I had overestimated myself.

In retrospect, it wasn’t just about my popularity.

Maybe it was more about the viewers enjoying the fall of the famous streamers.

[Forming: Unnie, just play the game for now.]

Well, it would be awkward to do a one-man show here.

Ah, but since Dayoung is watching, maybe that’s not the case.

For now, I launched Soul Warfare.

Whooosh

***

A desolate land and fleeting winds.

The sky, blocked by dark, overcast clouds, made it impossible to tell whether it was day or night.

The dreary lobby screen of Soul Warfare was still the same.

[Nickname: Friede / Tier: Grand Master]

The Grand Master badge with its golden wings greeted me.

Though the Master tier was similar, the Grand Master tier was adorned even more extravagantly, giving a feeling that contrasted sharply with the unique atmosphere of Soul Warfare.

‘For now… Yeah, I should play some ranked games.’

‘Well, while I’m playing, at least one person should join, right?’

There are always wandering souls on every broadcast platform, lingering 24/7.

Even on the Switch channel, these “souls” exist, and ordinary viewers have agreed to call them “Ssu.”

The behavior patterns of these “Ssu” are quite simple.

They either lurk around in random rooms causing chaos, or quietly watch and then move on to another broadcast.

Even in the case of a small-scale broadcast, there was no exception.

“Lord, please allow me to be a righteous ‘Ssu’ once again today.”

Today, what kind of chaos would I cause? Which streamer’s mental state should I destroy…?

Among the “Ssu,” there are also levels of severity.

The one who just prayed was a notorious troublemaker, known in the “Ssu” community as a malignant tumor.

He was particularly famous for targeting small-scale broadcasts, causing trouble and ruining the streams of unsuspecting streamers.

At first, he would win the streamer’s favor by behaving politely, but then, with a strict, solemn, and overly serious demeanor, he’d often make sharp critiques, scratching at the mental stability of the streamers.

Today, as he entered the Switch channel, he imagined with glee how he would crush the mental state of some unsuspecting streamer.

However, as he surfed through channels, a strange broadcast caught his eye.

Only one viewer.

It was a truly pitiful broadcast with single-digit viewers, a prime target for mockery.

He thought to himself, ‘Why would anyone broadcast something like this?’ and couldn’t wait to see what kind of expression the streamer would have after being targeted by him.

But as soon as he saw the broadcast title, his thoughts made a complete 180.

[Friede, Soul Warfare Broadcast]

“Friede? Isn’t that that user?”

Known as “The Hero of Light, Friede,” a female gamer who had appeared like a comet.

Her rank and the speed at which she climbed the tiers in ranked games surpassed even the current top female gamer, Lotus.

It was also famous that she had completely obliterated a Grand Master-tier streamer in a heated controversy over hacking, proving her innocence in the process.

At the time, Friede had received so much attention that everyone, even those who didn’t like her, knew her name.

After the controversial duel over hacking had ended, stories about her sightings in ranked games would occasionally pop up.

Her insane reaction speed.

Her acrobatic movements.

Her unique style of gameplay, which made her a joy to watch.

At first, he thought it might be someone impersonating her.

Given that she was a famous user, he couldn’t believe that she would only have one viewer.

It was a perfectly reasonable assumption, considering that the thumbnail was so small, barely recognizable.

“Let’s check it out.”

If it’s real, it would be amazing, and if it’s fake, he could just mock her as usual.

Even his small curiosity was enough to stir his interest and add some life to his wandering soul.

So, he clicked on the broadcast and tilted his head.

“Why is the loading so slow, with only one viewer?”

“Is the device bad?”

He’d heard that using a cheaper model could cause buffering during broadcasts.

Since he had never seen this type of issue with virtual reality streamers before, he thought it was an interesting new experience.

Moreover, a thought started to form in the back of his mind—what if this was an impersonator?

He had heard that Friede was known for creating over-the-top characters and flaunting lavish customization.

Surely, a broadcast problem wouldn’t be caused by using a low-end model.

But maybe, to his surprise, his patience paid off after a minute when the loading screen finally disappeared.

He congratulated himself on his patience as he entered the broadcast.

What he saw next was…

[Is this real?]

[Wow! It’s really you, unnie! You came to save us!]

[Wait, unnie, you got caught too?]

[Crazy Grand Master, hahahaha!]

[STK Warden, STK Lotus, everyone stand down!]

[With both hands, carefully cradling the broken sword… Our unnie is the one.]

[Let’s go, let’s go!]

[This broadcast is mine now! Get out of the way.]

[Upload it! Come on!]

[Sniper’s here, I’m itching to shoot, when does this match end?]

[How many people are squeezing into this room? Why is it buffering?]

In an instant, the viewer count skyrocketed into the hundreds, turning the chat into a playground for jokers.

And the nickname that appeared on the broadcast screen.

Friede. And the Grand Master tier mark.

“Shit!”

This broadcast was real.