Chapter 42
[Han Jimin]: Boss, I think you need to see this.
Han Jimin sent a message early in the morning.
“What’s this?”
Seojun checked what Han Jimin had sent and felt his thoughts growing complicated.
Han Jimin had captured a screen and sent it to Seojun. It was a screen from iTube that analyzed the channel’s viewers.
The first thing that caught his eye was the upward trend in viewer influx, even though it hadn’t even been a month yet.
The growth was so distinct that it clearly showed why they said it had been chosen by the algorithm.
However.
[Jin Seojun]: It’s definitely a bit odd.
[Han Jimin]: Right? What the heck is this?
Seojun examined the problematic image.
In the viewer analysis chart on the bottom right, the proportion of foreign viewers among new subscribers was unusually high—too high.
‘Hard to tell if this is good or bad.’
They say iTube’s algorithm is beyond the understanding of ordinary people.
That went for veteran streamers as well.
Today, as always, the mysterious iTube algorithm has led me to this video.
You didn’t find the video; the video found you.
No one came here by searching for this video.
And so on.
These were all catchphrases showing just how much the algorithm does whatever it pleases.
To put it extremely simply, it probably recommends videos that people tend to watch and keep watching, but the core principles driving iTube weren’t that straightforward.
[Lee Geonyeong]: Oh, what the— I just woke up. Why are there so many foreigners...?
[Han Jimin]: Hmm, boss, I think we need to figure out the cause for sure.
[Jin Seojun]: If the algorithm is shifting to recommend mainly to foreign viewers, that could be a problem, right?
[Han Jimin]: It might be. But we’re not big enough for the algorithm to be twisted, so there’s probably another reason.
[Lee Geonyeong]: Then maybe one of the viewers just promoted it? You said a lot of foreign viewers came in yesterday’s broadcast because of the Yeonmujang thing.
“Is that it?”
Fortunately, it didn’t seem like a serious problem.
It might even be an opportunity.
Seojun began to think along with them.
He had no intention of staying completely uninvolved just because he’d entrusted the entire channel to them.
[Han Jimin]: Community?
[Lee Geonyeong]: The influx is way too big for just a community promotion. It’s almost like when we posted the collaboration video with Alpaka-nim.
Ah.
Seojun felt like he knew the reason.
There was only one place that would have promoted his channel recently.
Seojun went to the MovieSoft official account and played the teaser video he had checked yesterday.
“So it was this.”
Scrolling down to the comments section, there was Seojun’s video linked right in the pinned comment.
Seojun shared this news.
[Lee Geonyeong]: Wow lol
[Lee Geonyeong]: Is this hyung’s class? For the official account to go that far...
[Han Jimin]: iTube’s market itself is huge overseas, so this is definitely good. Should I look into English subtitles?
The two seemed excited.
Seojun simply chimed in here and there, watching them run the channel on their own.
When it came to iTube, they knew better than him.
Then, an email arrived from MovieSoft.
The content was about rewriting the contract, along with a subtitle file for the iTube video.
“Huh.”
What was a little funny was that MovieSoft had, out of consideration for Seojun, explained in detail the reason for this favor—and it turned out the whole thing stemmed from a misunderstanding.
“Well, that’s good.”
Even if unintentional, wasn’t it a win-win?
“They also included the contact info for a subtitle production company... and they’re covering all the costs?”
It wasn’t a huge sum, but it was something to be grateful for.
And they had even increased the advertising budget by 50%.
Seojun shared the good news with his editors.
They chatted energetically for a while longer, and then Han Jimin sent him an unexpected private message.
[Han Jimin]: Boss, ads are going to start coming in. Don’t you need a manager?
[Jin Seojun]: A manager?
Come to think of it, he hadn’t thought about a manager at all.
Until now, Taewoo’s help with household tasks—well, various pieces of advice—had been enough.
‘I will need one going forward.’
Especially for filtering ads and negotiating.
[Han Jimin]: Yes. I’ve done some managing work before, too. Since Byeokgal-nim is currently working on thumbnails and all, I wanted to contribute however I can as well.
[Han Jimin]: You can think of it as part of channel management and use me unpaid! After all, I do own a quarter of your channel, boss! It’s a sense of ownership!
She was indeed an owner.
Anyway.
Thumbnail?
Ah.
It was only then that Seojun realized he hadn’t covered a separate thumbnail cost when he handed over full control of iTube.
Why had Lee Geonyeong taken on extra work without a word?
Seojun told Han Jimin they’d talk in person next time, then called Lee Geonyeong.
“Mr. Brick Extortion King.”
-Yes, hyung.
“It’s about the thumbnails.”
-Ah, hyung!
“Yeah.”
Lee Geonyeong cut him off urgently.
Then declared energetically.
-I’ll just do the thumbnails for free!
“Why?”
-Because my skills are a bit below the noona’s, for one thing. I want to contribute even in a small way like this. And I enjoy making them too.
“Ah.”
The moment Seojun heard that, he thought he had really chosen well.
Normally, when people land a good position, some get complacent or try to cut corners.
But Han Jimin and Lee Geonyeong were different.
They were going out of their way to do things they didn’t need to, just to help.
It felt like they genuinely wanted to be part of this with Seojun.
‘I got lucky.’
He had confirmed they were good people with his own eyes before signing the contract, but as the saying goes, you can know the water’s depth for ten fathoms but not a person’s heart for one. Understanding people is never easy.
He had chosen well.
-And I was also worried you might go bankrupt if you kept paying us, boss. Heh heh.
“Don’t worry about that.”
-It was a joke. Anyway, aren’t we Seodongbu!
Seodongbu?
What is that now?
“Anyway, if you ever need a budget for thumbnails, just tell me without worrying about it.”
-Yep. Take care, bye.
“Yeah. You too, King of Extortion.”
-Ah... damn, hyung, seriously...
Click.
After ending the call, Seojun looked up the meaning of Seodongbu online.
It was a new coinage: taking the streamer’s name and attaching it to nodongbu, the Ministry of Employment and Labor. It was what people called those doing jobs like video editing or thumbnail creation.
Apparently, they combined Seojun with nodongbu to call themselves Seodongbu.
“So that’s what it meant...”
Anyway, new slang is confusing.
“Well then, shall I head out?”
Today was the day for an additional checkup.
* * *
“No matter how many times I see it, that movement is astonishing.”
Oh Jihye, the director of Seopiseu’s research institute, said as she stared at the screen.
“He really is amazing.”
Oh Jihye shot a glare at the junior researcher who had approached beside her.
“I told you so.”
“Don’t look at me like that. Anyone would have trouble understanding you at first. I mean, who would readily say, ‘Let’s lend that expensive equipment for free so you can enter a streamer competition’?”
That was true.
Oh Jihye nodded.
Then she turned her head back to the screen.
“Well, with that level of skill, as long as he has the will, it seems like he could make money in virtual reality no matter what he does. Don’t you think?”
The free rental under the pretext of the streaming competition had been bait.
A lure to get him back into this world.
But she hadn’t expected him to be such a perfect fit as a streamer.
“True. I’ve watched a few times, and it’s entertaining. Feels like a new kind of skill-based broadcast, I guess. You know what that person did in the past, right, Director? A little while ago, Lee Dongsu was asking about that streamer. And Shin Hayeon, who was next to him, seemed to be paying attention too.”
“Stay out of it. Customer information can’t be viewed and must never be disclosed anyway. Try acting familiar again and see what happens. If I hadn’t stopped you in the middle, you’d have blabbed everything you knew.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Honestly, getting so worked up just because you saw a famous athlete.”
“Haha, well, I’ll be off then.”
Sensing that the boss’s nagging was about to intensify, he hastily left the lab.
Oh Jihye paid no mind, quickly refocusing and manipulating the screen to start Seojun’s next test.
* * *
Seojun was currently facing all sorts of situations.
The surrounding environment abruptly turned into a scorching desert, then in the blink of an eye he was buried in the glaciers of the North Pole, and then he felt intense gravitational acceleration or was flung into outer space.
The primary purpose of this test, which threw him into extreme situations, was to examine the subject’s physical responses under stress.
Mainly, people who want to reduce their virtual reality access restrictions—especially athletes—come to this institute for testing.
Seopiseu increases their access time if they pass this test.
Of course, that didn’t apply to Seojun.
‘Well, that’s just how it is.’
Seojun floated aimlessly in space, thinking.
Soon, the surrounding space itself was sucked toward him, like subducting tectonic plates.
Immense pressure crushed down on Seojun.
Fwoosh—
A bright light flared, and the moment the pressure released, Seojun found himself standing in a pure white room.
[Ah. Mr. Seojun, the test is now over. Please come out.]
It was over.
‘That was anticlimactic.’
After exiting the capsule, Seojun opened the door and crossed over to the room where Oh Jihye was.
Seojun stood beside Oh Jihye and waited quietly while she examined various data.
Oh Jihye spoke.
“Thankfully, there’s been no change in reactions compared to before. No, it actually seems even better. You really are remarkably composed.”
“I’ve been through this once; it would be bad if I didn’t improve.”
“That only applies to you, Mr. Seojun. There were no issues with the other tests, so you’ll just need to come in for a checkup about once a month going forward.”
“You said the capsule will automatically block and send a message if something goes wrong.”
“Yes, but come anyway.”
Tch.
“Alright. Thank you.”
“Great, is the exact same date next month possible?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Then I’ll see you next month.”
Seojun said goodbye and left the lab.
He had to go home again, which was a hassle.
Damn.
‘Should I just rest today from streaming... yeah, right.’
Taking a break just because it was a hassle was hard for him, given his memories of a past life and his overly diligent nature.
He might consider it if viewers were eagerly waiting for something important.
Seojun chuckled as he stepped outside the institute.
But there was someone waiting for him at the entrance.
“We saw each other in the morning and now again. It’s kind of nice to meet somewhere other than the gym.”
It was the pro gamer, Lee Dongsu.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s our team’s regular checkup day.”
Ah.
This was a research institute.
Meaning it wasn’t some customer service center or a hospital.
Nevertheless, since the best equipment and technicians were here, regular checkups for pro players were conducted on site.
Naturally, they would try to receive people in batches during the checkups, and since Seojun had come on the day Oh Jihye called him, it wasn’t strange for their visits to overlap.
“I heard from the teacher earlier that you were coming, so I waited to grab lunch together. Ah, by the way, Hayeon noona told me to send her regards. Did you two meet each other before...?”
“No.”
“Really? That’s strange. Noona seemed pretty glad to see you.”
“No idea.”
“Anyway, are you going home right now? Or...”