Streamer Crazy About Slaughter - Chapter 89
Entering the broadcast of a streamer named Kim Ha-yoon made me captivated.
The moment I saw it, I couldn’t help but be surprised.
“This person…”
In the email for editor applications, there were some who sent their photos along with their applications.
And since Park So-yul and Kim Ha-yoon were confirmed as editors, they had checked the email again, confirming that their personal photos were attached.
And now, the woman appearing on the screen.
Her long black hair unkempt, a calm face beneath it, though the fatigue was evident, making her look like she could collapse at any moment.
‘Same person.’
It was undeniably identical to the photo of editor Kim Ha-yoon.
“She really looks like an editor.”
Muttering that, I wondered if it was okay for me to watch this broadcast.
It felt like I was secretly eavesdropping for some reason.
The woman spoke with a small smile.
“Maybe it’s because today is my last broadcast, but it feels so good that so many people are watching.”
Her voice strangely sounded familiar.
Though different in pitch from the one in the intro, I was sure due to the similarity.
She was the one selected as an editor.
And.
“It seems like there are more viewers than usual…”
That statement caught my attention.
The current viewer count was about 33, including myself.
Still, having watched many broadcasts with just 1 or 2 viewers until just a moment ago, it didn’t seem like an exceptionally low number, but it didn’t seem all that high either.
‘How many usually watch?’
[Is this really your last broadcast, Ha-yoon?]
[Suddenly saying it’s the last one, what does that mean?]
[That’s right. You should reconsider.]
[I really think if you go a little longer, you’ll definitely become popular, so please try just a bit more.]
The chat window was intriguing, as messages appeared gradually, unlike the chatrooms I usually frequented.
Furthermore, the messages themselves didn’t seem trivial; they appeared to express genuine sentiments.
“Starik, Lalie, Jambal, God-ji-eun Haetban, thank you for the warm chats.”
The editor expressed her gratitude by naming each viewer who had chatted.
With 33 viewers including me, I soon realized that except for those 4 mentioned, no one else was chatting.
So I felt naturally.
“Every single viewer is precious.”
I understood why the editor would call out each viewer’s nickname; it’s because so few people initially typed in the chat. She probably remembered everyone who did.
While I was also a broadcaster, watching the editor’s stream felt like looking into a completely different world.
“But I’ve been thinking a lot too. There are realistic difficulties, and I think it will be hard to continue broadcasting to earn a living. So instead of leaving my viewers hanging, I thought it would be better to say this is the last broadcast… And I have good news to share with the viewers as well.”
[It seems you made this decision after much consideration. Since you mentioned living expenses, I can’t really encourage you to continue.]
[Right? I actually enjoyed watching Ha-yoon’s broadcasts.]
[It’s regrettable, but… it can’t be helped. It’s been fun. I really appreciated how close you were.]
[What kind of good news is it?]
The four viewers who knew it was the last broadcast were expressing regret but didn’t try to hold her back any further.
It seemed they wanted to, but the overall atmosphere was understanding towards the editor’s words.
It was about realistic difficulties and the need to earn a living.
“Still, thank you for saying such nice things. And I’ll let you know the good news at the end of today’s broadcast. It’s news that will surprise you!”
Watching the woman named Kim Ha-yoon say this with a seemingly bright expression, I started to guess what it might be.
“…How can I not watch this?”
At first, I was unsure about whether to watch or not, but after hearing the editor’s words, I resolved to watch the final broadcast.
It seemed she was about to tell the viewers that she would quit her broadcast and become my editor, but it felt odd not to watch while knowing that.
*Ding ding ding!!!*
“Starik has donated 5,000 won!”
“Then I’ll watch the last broadcast till the end, Ha-yoon.”
“Wow!”
I was taken aback by the unexpectedly loud donation alert.
It wasn’t just a congratulatory sound; a grand donation background music played.
“…?”
Then my attention shifted from the alert sound to the donation amount.
Despite the outrageous and flashy alert sound, the actual donation amount was only 5,000 won.
“Starik donated 5,000 won! You don’t have to donate…! Thank you so much for the 5,000 won donation!”
The editor said this while bowing her head, speaking happily. She genuinely seemed to appreciate it.
‘Wow, someone can be this happy over 5,000 won…’
With a small gesture, she made a heart shape, seemingly even reacting.
“…”
Watching that, I involuntarily began to fidget with my hands.
I had intended to watch the broadcast to alleviate my boredom while enjoying leftover galbi-jjim, but my feelings were oddly mixed.
While receiving donations ten times that amount, I simply thanked the viewer by calling out their username; that was the extent of my gratitude.
My editor was bowing and reacting joyfully over a mere 5,000 won donation.
‘This is the reality of a small-time streamer.’
That thought crossed my mind in an instant.
It was a small amount for me, but seeing her so pleased sent tingles through my chest.
“…Should I donate?”
Suddenly, that thought came to me.
Kim Ha-yoon would now be my colleague as an editor.
I felt like donating to her while she was having her last broadcast.
If I revealed my identity, it might cause unnecessary issues, so I thought maybe donating anonymously would be okay.
While searching through the settings to make the donation, a thought struck me.
‘I should have donated to Sua as well.’
Reflecting on it, I felt I should have donated to Sua first.
She had helped a lot.
After all, our broadcasting times overlapped a lot, and whenever my broadcast ended, I was too exhausted to even think of donating to Sua.
…But I’d be donating anonymously anyway.
So even after the restrictions were lifted, I thought I’d need to donate a larger amount to Sua, while for now, I decided on a donation amount for my editor.
*Payment completed.*
The message indicating that the charge was completed appeared, and I soon saw my account balance.
*Donation account balance: 1,000,000 won.*
Rather than donating everything at once, I thought about splitting it into portions as a way to cheer her up instead of just chatting.
As I finished preparing the donation, the woman’s voice was heard again.
“Oh, and since today is the last broadcast, rather than focusing on other content, I’m planning to do a drinking broadcast and talk more with the viewers.”
As she finished her sentence, she brought out a bottle of alcohol.
Clink.
Clink.
She placed two bottles of soju in front of the screen.
“Just soju…?”
“So if any viewers have some alcohol, please take it out, or if not, it’d be more fun to buy a can of beer from a convenience store nearby. Because from now on, it’ll be a drinking broadcast, so I’ll set a 19+ restriction.”
Soon, a notification appeared indicating that the broadcast had changed to a 19+ setting.
“Then I’ll give the viewers about 10 minutes to prepare. I’ll play about three songs and then continue with the broadcast. Or since I’ll be broadcasting for a while today, it won’t be too late even if you order food now.”
A calm background music began to play, and for some reason, I felt like I needed to prepare some alcohol.
“I should order something.”
Although I don’t usually enjoy drinking, watching the editor’s stream made me curious about how a drinking broadcast would go.
As I rummaged through the delivery app, I ordered beer and shrimp tempura as a side dish.
It wasn’t a bad idea to just observe who the editor was.
The screen was showing the editor continuing conversation with a few viewers.
“By the way. I wonder if they checked their emails?”
I immediately opened another tab to access my email address, and sure enough, there were replies from both Park So-yul and Kim Ha-yoon waiting.
Both were sent a while ago.
I opened the email from Park So-yul first.
The contract draft was neatly prepared, and it included a line, “I look forward to working with you,” along with a small thank-you note.
As I read it, I thought the reply was also tidy.
“…I guess it’s due to experience? Even the email is well-organized.”
Then I opened Kim Ha-yoon’s email.
Likewise, opening the contract file showed that she seemed to have filled out all the details without any gaps.
However, a plethora of text beneath it made me feel dizzy.
“Kim Ha-yoon, you really…”
Beneath the contract file, there was dense text that seemed to fill the screen.
It was just a brief congratulatory note sent with the contract, yet her reply to it was long enough to fill the screen.
It was truly a lengthy thank-you letter.
As I slowly read through it, I grasped the overall content.
I’m so thankful. I never expected such a good evaluation. I’m so happy you recognized my efforts… and so on.
It was a heartfelt letter of gratitude.
Below it, it was as if she praised me; she wrote things like, “You are so pretty, so beautiful, your voice is wonderful…” etc., so much that it made me blush just by reading it.
“No, Kim Ha-yoon, you’ve never seen me in person.”
As I read further, the more my hands and feet curled, and I felt my face heating up.
It felt as if someone who didn’t know the context would think I had saved her life or something.
I had merely chosen her as an editor through a fair voting process.
On one hand, it felt nice to sense through her email how happy she was to be selected as an editor.
The fact that someone is joyful because of me.
The fact that she wrote such heartfelt words in an email made me wonder just how much joy she must actually feel.
“Oh, and if you have curious questions about me or stories about your daily life as viewers, that’s welcome too. You can say anything, and I’ll respond.”
On one broadcast segment, Kim Ha-yoon was shown interacting with viewers.
I felt a strange desire to reprimand the editor.
“What should I say in my donation message… hmm… Don’t react, and don’t say thank you.”
With that, I decided on the message I would send along with my donation, typed in the amount, and hit the donate button.
*Ding ding ding!!!!*
“User ‘ㅇㅇ’ donated 100,000 won!!”
“Please don’t react. And don’t say thank you.”
“…Um. Who are you, viewer? This isn’t some kind of mistaken donation, is it?”
The editor, taken aback and speaking nervously, looked as if she couldn’t believe the donation itself.