That night, Seunghoon lay on his bed, the glow of his phone screen casted soft shadows across the ceiling of his room. His blanket was pulled up to his chest, but his body remained still, not quite ready to sleep.
For the first time since days, he wasn't playing late at night. Instead, he was lying down. Thinking. Not about the game they played or the game but streaming.
That word wouldn't leave his head.
He tapped the search bar and typed "Rise of Legends streamer Korea".
Dozens of results came up instantly. There were clips from MeTube, Litch, Liklok. Even newer platforms he hadn't heard of before came up.
There were thumbnails of streamers mid-game, their cameras placed neatly in the corner, chat flying at the side of the screen with hearts, laughing emojis, and reactions to every single thing they say.
He clicked on the first recommended channel to watch on his screen.
The screen loaded with a delay. The moment it came through, he was met with bright overlays and a smooth-talking guy in a headset reacting to a jungle invasion.
"Yo! What are they doing? They're three levels behind—wait, hold up, hold up! Chat, you seeing this?!"
The screen cut to a team fight that the streamer managed to turn around with perfect positioning and reaction.
The chat blew up:
[Jinxie22]: HE'S TOO CLEAN WTF
[DopaFan]: Jungle diff LOL
[Minzzang]: Bro read that like a script fr
[RiceRoll]: Clip that clip that clip that—
Seunghoon blinked slowly as he watched the comments loaded in the steam.
It was different from what he remembered. Sure, there were streamers in his time too, but it wasn't like this. Not this alive. Not this interactive.
He scrolled down and saw the numbers.
32,000 viewers.
There's even a verified badge on the side.
At the corner of the stream, there's a donation goal. And just as he was about to exit, someone had just sent the stream 100,000 won.
"…Damn."
He clicked out and tried another one.
This time it was a girl. Her screen was full of pastel overlays, her voice cheerful and expressive.
She wasn't even playing ranked. Just a casual match, joking with friends and answering chat questions.
And yet, she had 10,000 live viewers.
Seunghoon shifted onto his side, elbow propped under his pillow as he kept scrolling. He scrolled through more names and more channels. Some faces were familiar. There were former pros he remembered seeing years ago now sitting comfortably in front of their setup, coaching viewers and breaking down replays.
Others were newer.
Some didn't even play ranked at all. They just entertained the viewers while playing casually, and people loved them for it.
He went deeper. One link led to another. He watched some clips, compilations, and montages on MeTube
The titles screamed things like:
"TOP 1 KARIO SHOWS WHY HE'S KING"
"I TRIED SERYN AND THIS HAPPENED"
"MY TEAM FLAMED ME, THEN I 1v5'D"
He caught himself smiling at the title. They looked pretty obvious and cliché, but somehow, there were a lot of people who watched them.
Even here, people loved a good comeback story.
Eventually, he found himself watching a compilation titled:
"BEST MIDLANERS YOU NEED TO WATCH IN 2025"
The first one was Ravn. Then PLuto. NightJay. Fysol. All familiar names from the current leaderboard.
But as the video played, a strange thought settled in his chest.
'I could do better than some of these." He wasn't arrogant. It was just a strange thought that passed through his mind.
Seunghoon continue to watch more. He watched some of the popular streamer's plays, their decisions, and how they interact with the people watching their stream.
The longer he watched, the more his thoughts began to drift.
It wasn't just about the gameplay anymore.
These streamers weren't just players. They were personalities. Entertainers. People who turned solo matches into shows and ranked games into shared experiences. T
hey made others feel like they were part of something—even if they were just watching from behind a screen.
Seunghoon clicked on another stream, this time from a smaller channel. The streamer had about 100 viewers. Their camera was of low quality. The lighting in their room was dim. Their mic wasn't even that clear.
But they were having fun.
Just playing a few games, reading comments out loud, and talking to whoever showed up.
Seunghoon leaned back on his pillow. His thumb hovered over the pause button, but he didn't press it. He just watched.
The guy on the screen was far from perfect. He misclicked a few times, got caught out once or twice, but the chat didn't flame him. They teased him, joked with him, even cheered him on.
And he laughed along.
It felt warm. It felt simple.
Seunghoon looked down at his own hands.
Could I do this?
The question echoed in his mind, louder than he expected.
Streaming had never crossed his mind before. Not seriously, at least.
In his past life, it was always about the pro scene—scrims, coaches, bootcamps. Streaming was just something players did on the side.
Now it was different.
Now it was a world in itself.
He pulled the blanket higher to his chest, his eyes drifting to the ceiling again.
Could I actually stream?
Would people watch me?
Would they listen to me talk about the game? Care about my playstyle?
He wasn't sure.
He didn't even know where to start.
[Ding!]
[Bonus Mission Triggered!]
[Loading…]
Seunghoon frowned.
[New Mission:]
- Create a streamer account on any platform.
- Begin your first live broadcast.
- Reach a total of 10 concurrent viewers.
[Reward: A complete set of entry-level streaming equipment. (Webcam, Mic, Capture-ready Software) It will be in good quality. Not the best, but enough to get started.]
"Huh?" Seunghoon stared at the floating words in front of him in disbelief.
[A New Set of Missions Will Automatically Appear Once the Current List Is Accomplished.]
[Don't worry, Host! Better rewards and equipment will be waiting for you!]