Chapter 374
“Ah, why is it so jammed?”
“Indeed. This is the outskirts of Seoul. I heard it was congested yesterday morning too, but is it really this bad? I’m curious.”
“All the cars are filtering into the same place.”
The driver, dressed in the same clothes as Kael with a gigantic greatsword prop resting in the back seat, let out a sigh.
“There’s still a little time before work starts.”
“I was wondering if we’d come too early, but it seems you were right.”
His friend in the passenger seat nodded with his arms folded.
They were both fans.
One was cosplaying Kael, while the other was dressed as Cheonma.
“I really want to punch you for talking like that. Should I summon my brother too?”
“Drive safely, mortal.”
“There’s nothing to drive. We’re not moving an inch. And Cheonma doesn’t talk like that.”
“Fine, then drive safely.”
“We’re not going to stick together at Trstar, right?”
“An announcement of cutting ties. How interesting.”
And the fact that more people had gathered from early morning than the day before could be seen not only on the roads, but also in the buses—the public transportation running over them.
-The front door is currently congested. Passengers are requested to move toward the rear.
-The front door is currently congested. Passengers are requested to move toward the rear.
The manually played announcement repeated over and over.
The overcrowded bus came to a stop at the station.
When the front door opened, the person about to board the bus flinched in surprise.
“Are you not getting on?”
“Uh…”
“Are you not boarding?”
“Ah… Yes.”
The bus driver closed the doors and pulled away, thinking to himself that the next bus would be just as crowded.
It was still early in the morning, so perhaps he thought it would be all right.
The buses being packed with people was the extent of it.
But the subway beneath the roads was different.
[The current state of the subway heading to Trstarㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
==
Why the hell are Cheonma and Kael already having a battle of wills in the subwayㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ They’re such a nuisanceㅋㅋㅋㅋ
(A photo of the two of them pressed against opposite sides of a subway car, glaring at each other)
==
-Why are there already seven people gathered in every subway carㅋㅋㅋㅋ
└For realㅋㅋ You guys planned this, didn’t you!
-Did you know? All the martial-arts cosplay outfits are sold outㅋㅋㅋㅋ
-Kael’s a bit unusual, so there aren’t many in stock, but Cheonma<-- You just need to put on a martial-arts outfit and act arrogantㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
-I stole my mom’s choir outfit and am on my way to cosplay Kael
└How the hell is that Kael, you lunaticㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ It doesn’t resemble him even one bit
[Who the hell said there wouldn’t be as many people as yesterday?]
-For realㅋㅋ
-It’s already this crazy first thing in the morningㅋㅋㅋ
-The host really is on another level
-You people still haven’t come to your senses even after seeing the follower count
-Let’s go!
The internet community boards were lively from early morning.
Most of the people making noise were probably those currently on their way after setting out.
They had nothing else to do, after all.
And the other fans were just about reaching bedtime.
Wasn’t that right?
Or maybe not.
Seojun, who had arrived at five, left the waiting room at six—one hour before admission—and headed for the outdoor parking lot where the line had formed.
It was the second day.
He couldn’t do things the same way as yesterday.
They had prepared more merchandise, and Team Leader Seon kept telling him that he didn’t have to do anything.
But Seojun couldn’t trust that, so he was heading outside the building now.
He felt that he should take care of even the smallest details.
After leaving the building containing the waiting room, Seojun followed the parking lot toward the line.
Countless passenger cars were already parked, while trucks carrying booth-related supplies busily came and went.
“A ping-pong table? What’s that for?”
Seojun smiled faintly.
The smile came naturally.
He wasn’t mocking them, but wasn’t that kind of item completely out of place at a Trstar event?
Which booth needed a table?
If it was a reasonably sized one, he could understand buying it.
Or perhaps a ping-pong player was coming.
‘Wait.’
Which booth would a ping-pong player come to?
‘Hmm…’
A chat message frequently used by the fans came to mind.
Nieun and giyeok.
Every now and then, absurd stories would come up, and the fans who felt personally attacked by them would laugh and type that in chat.
‘Could it be me?’
Was that ping-pong table actually headed for Seojun’s booth?
‘Is a ping-pong player coming? How could they know that in advance and prepare for it? Well, it can’t be me.’
Seojun decided that was the case and moved on.
Then, as he continued walking through the parking lot and one strange item after another appeared, Seojun pressed the bridge of his nose.
He quickened his pace.
He was avoiding thinking about what was happening.
“I should get there quickly.”
In other words, he was denying reality.
* * *
“Hello, Producer Kim.”
“Hmm, hello?”
Producer Kim was the person in overall charge of the game company booth sponsoring Jay.
At Trstar, all the people in charge from game companies were uniformly called producers, and strangely enough, Producer Kim was one of them.
The person who spoke to him was a producer dispatched by an indie game company.
Since it was an indie game, both the booth and the support were small-scale.
Because of that, they weren’t the type to compete through the size of their operation or the stature of their streamer. They relied entirely on content.
Even with that difference, however, their objective was the same.
Not to provide perfect fan service, but to promote their game.
That was all.
To that end, large game companies sponsored the event with enormous sums of money and set up large booths.
Small game companies couldn’t afford to sponsor the event itself, so they were assigned small booths in outlying locations—but they still did everything they could to advertise.
“Hahaha, Producer Kim.”
“Yes? Why did you call me? It’s almost time to open, so could you get to the point? I’m rather busy.”
“Ah, I was wondering whether any of the major game companies had contacted streamer Seojun yet.”
“What? Contacted him about what?”
“Seojun doesn’t have anything scheduled in the morning, does he?”
“That’s right.”
Producer Kim instantly turned his head from the booth toward the man beside him, intrigued by the subject of the conversation.
He didn’t remember what the man did, but since the name tag around his neck identified him as a producer, he had decided to hear him out. Then, unexpectedly, a person of interest had been mentioned.
“So I thought that if he happened to turn on his stream and visit our booth even once, it would be good publicity for both the game and the people. That’s why I was asking.”
“Certainly… Hmm…”
Producer Kim immediately weighed the matter in his head.
How much would they have to pay to get Seojun to appear at their booth for even one time slot?
At least ten thousand.
Even if it was only a single trial lasting less than an hour.
But what could they gain from it?
‘Publicity?’
Were they already lacking publicity? Or were there too few people?
Neither was true.
“As far as I know, no one has. You may be the first person to think of it.”
“Ah, is that so?”
“Yes.”
Producer Kim didn’t bother saying that even if the major game companies learned they could recruit Seojun, they probably wouldn’t do so.
There was no precedent for recruiting a streamer from another booth, and even if they did recruit him, the number of people trying the games was already overflowing.
In short, it would be pointless.
Then what about an indie game developer?
“Well, I’ll be going.”
“To Seojun’s waiting room?”
“Yes.”
“Goodbye.”
Producer Kim saw him off with a pleasant expression, then suppressed a sneer inwardly.
‘Desperate, are we?’
Was Seojun some kind of magic lamp?
Beneath the anxiety that they might lose the chance to recruit him because of another major game company, there was hope.
Hope that recruiting Seojun might turn their current situation around.
A poor location, a streamer with too small a fandom, a booth that looked empty—the odds of attracting attention were dwindling toward zero. If that happened, Trstar would be a failure.
As a move to reverse the situation, Seojun might seem like a good option.
But there were plenty of limitations.
If they recruited Seojun, they might be able to draw attention temporarily.
He didn’t deny that.
But would the buzz continue?
There was still plenty of time left in Trstar, and Seojun would continue streaming.
Unless they handed over operation of the booth to him for an entire day.
And besides—
‘After sending him a proposal and getting rejected outright, there’s no way he’d agree to run it for a whole day.’
Even recruiting him at all might be impossible.
It was certainly an interesting idea in many ways.
‘I just hope he accepts.’
Producer Kim imagined Seojun receiving the proposal, after which countless indie game companies would send him offers, scattering whatever attention there was to be had.
Because, when all was said and done, that minus-fifty-thousand-vote remark was practically an insult to someone who had been put in charge of the event several times.
And then there was the fact that Seojun had rejected him without hesitation.
‘As if running a booth is easy.’
It was obvious that Seojun had no confidence in operating one properly and was plotting to take first place through popularity and sheer stature.
Producer Kim disliked that.
So he wished for Seojun’s attention to be scattered until everything fell apart.
* * *
Seojun signed autographs for the people who had been waiting in line an hour early, then returned to the waiting room.
The community was filled mostly with people complaining about why he was holding a fan meeting instead of turning on his stream.
Those who had arrived early and met Seojun that morning began to show off.
This was what showing off looked like:
[Everyone, I just came a little early because I had nothing else to do, but the host came out to greet me, gave me an autograph, and even took a picture with me. Is this a good thing?]
Pretending not to know that it was obviously a good thing, in order to provoke envy and attract attention.
These days, however, there was also such a thing as deliberate showing off.
They pretended to be boasting while actually just engaging in a display of bad character.
Naturally, the responses came back in a delightfully vulgar fashion.
-What, would it be a bad thing? ^^ㅣ
└ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ You held back on the swearing pretty well
-I’m so jealous
-More jealous than the people who came yesterday. He didn’t take pictures with them
As he watched the fans amuse themselves, Seojun fell into thought.
Yesterday had been a time to explore which booths had what content, but from today onward, he planned to properly make his rounds.
That was why he had secured free time in the morning.
So what was he worrying about?
‘What am I supposed to say while I go around?’
And what should he do about the capsule?
Point had provided a top-of-the-line capsule, so Seojun’s booth had the same model as the one at his home.
The other booths, however, did not.
There was no reason for them to go that far.
People would complain that he was flaunting his wealth.
Fortunately, Seojun had already explained his circumstances regarding the capsule, so they would probably understand the inconvenience of having him return to his own booth. But what excuse could he use to receive that understanding?
‘I’ve done such a good job shaping my image that they probably won’t find it strange even if I just walk around…’
Still, it was a concern.
‘If I can’t come up with a suitable excuse, maybe I should go to Jay’s booth and provoke him with my stream running.’
Just then, someone knocked on the door of Seojun’s waiting room.
“Come in.”
Click.
Seojun examined the person who entered.
A game-company producer.
Since he had never seen the man’s face before, he was probably from a booth far away from Seojun’s. Which meant he was in charge of an indie game company.
“Hello.”
Why would an indie game company come all the way to Seojun’s waiting room?
Was luck about to come rolling in on a silver platter?