<The head is not for decoration donated 1,000 won!>–

"Hey, Yujin! Get out of Harmony's body right now! I want the old, FPS-clueless Harmony back!!!"

“Aigoo, no way! Hey! If someone does well, you should compliment them! Instead, you guys just keep looking for Yujin-sensei!”

The waiting room before the next match. As the three teammates lingered lazily behind her, Harmony’s voice, mixed with frustration, shot out at the chat.

Unsurprisingly, Harmony’s sudden leap in skill was accompanied by a significant backlash. Her viewer count had ballooned, and the chat logs were racing by like the RPM of a machine gun, hammering in the reality of her transformation.

By now, the stream had settled into a quieter state. After over six hours of streaming, everyone except for Harmony—Hotteok, Limit, and Kimstone—had glassy, unfocused eyes. That was how combat went. Virtual reality might not drain physical stamina, but mental fatigue accumulated regardless.

The breaks between matches grew longer, and so did the silences. Harmony alone, having fortified her mental resilience through countless trials with Yujin, kept pushing forward without a second thought.

The others, who had once been startled by her improved skills, were now left wondering if she had somehow drunk water blessed by Yujin-sensei, making her fly around the battlefield with newfound energy.

But not everyone was pleased with her success.

<Luddite donated 20,000 won!>–

"I can't even wave my carrot anymore… I’m too damn tired..."

“Oh, Luddite, haha! Guys! Do some work! I’m always carrying you!”

–"LOL" –"The nickname suits them perfectly, hahaha!" –"Gonna smash everything at this rate, lololol." –"Please help, there’s a green cat sucking out our editors’ souls!" –"The editors are crying, haha!"

The editors.

If anyone was feeling the weight of Harmony’s sudden rise to fame, it was the editors, whose workload had exploded thanks to Harmony’s newfound potential after meeting Yujin. They weren’t benefiting from her success but were instead drowning in the sheer amount of new content to process.

If they were just viewers, they’d be thrilled at the tsunami of new clips, but as the ones responsible for creating that very content, they were buried under an ever-growing mountain of work. Even though Harmony had three dedicated editors, it still wasn’t enough to handle the surge.

It’s not like they weren’t prepared. With four streamers from the Hammer Brothers gang collaborating—Kimstone, Harmony, Limit, and Hotteok—it wasn’t hard to predict the synergy would lead to massive content output. To handle this, about ten editors had been mobilized, with some even organizing a temporary group chat to communicate.

However, just because they were prepared didn’t mean they were ready for this level of chaos.

Wooooooong!

“Aigo.”

A sigh. It came from Harmony’s editors.

Despite the hours that had passed since the stream began, the messages flooding their group chat showed no sign of stopping. The subject? Predictable, of course. It was all about their employer—Harmony. More specifically, her surprising, hidden talent.

As editors, they knew a good portion of Harmony’s daily schedule. They were aware of Yujin, a player almost every Dark Zone user had heard of. And they had also known that Harmony had been practicing with Yujin, albeit without paying too much attention.

But this? This was on another level.

Drrr-drrr-drrrrrr!

A clip from about half an hour ago played, featuring Harmony’s sharp commands and the thunderous sound of gunfire, followed by her unnervingly precise aim. She was… good. Too good. And that was the problem. Why had she suddenly gotten so good?

Maybe they had just never noticed. Maybe Harmony’s skills had always been overshadowed by Yujin, like a shadow cast by a brilliant sun.

A message popped up.

–"Harmony’s editors must be overworked right now, haha!"

Miserable bastards.

But they couldn’t help it. This was the occupational hazard of being an editor. They could no longer enjoy streams for fun—they were always watching for the next clip or edit point. And today, their workload seemed insurmountable. Every match Harmony played was packed with content. Now, with Harmony’s sudden skill boost, it was worse than ever.

Even though she had previously been considered a subpar Dark Zone player, everything had changed.

Before the group chat for all editors, there was a smaller chat just for Harmony’s team, and that was even more chaotic. The editors were excitedly discussing which clips to edit. Recently, all of Harmony’s Dark Zone videos had been racking up over 600,000 views on average, so it was only natural that all three of her editors were focused on this area.

Each time they uploaded, the video would immediately shoot up in trending, and there was always a bonus for high-performance content. Sure, the work was endless, but editing, reviewing, and posting felt like printing money.

All they had to do was pour in insane amounts of time.

The world operates through the magic of balance.

Even those poor editors trapped behind their holographic editing tools couldn’t escape it. They had to work together to produce the best results without clashing, and Luddite’s current efforts were just one example.

With countless folders and files laid out before them, technology had advanced to the point where editors no longer had to check every second of footage manually. Clips featuring Harmony were isolated, voice scripts separated, and more. But, of course, this didn’t change the fact that there was still a mountain of work to be done.

Luddite’s fingers hovered over the holographic keyboard.

–Luddite: Listen up, you morons.
–Luddite: Today, we edit until we die.
–Waltz: You madman, LOL.
–Rubin: The guy with the most destructive-sounding name is actually the most reliable, hahaha.

The night was still young.

“...Thank goodness I’m not on that team.”

Elsewhere, Yujin’s editor breathed a sigh of relief.

Such was the strange life of an editor.

"…Hmm…"

–"Wow, that’s what dissecting people with your eyes looks like."
–"Harmony would freak out if she knew, LOL."
–"Let Noknyang play the game in peace, Yujin!"
–"From the cradle to the grave? More like from the cradle to the battlefield!"
–"Look at that crazy look in her eyes!"

One single donation.

It didn’t take much to completely derail the simple direction of Yujin’s stream. Originally, she had planned to play a casual game recommended by her private site, but now Yujin was acting as one of the 10,000+ viewers in Harmony’s chat, doing what she did best—evaluating.

As strange as it might seem for one streamer to sit in on another’s stream with their own audience, Yujin wasn’t just watching; she was critiquing. Analyzing Harmony’s movements, noting areas for improvement.

Movement patterns.

Pivot points.

Tactical positioning.

Target tracking.

Situational awareness.

Every time Yujin’s eyes landed on a detail, a checkpoint formed, and an improvement note followed, becoming a single line of feedback. Line by line, they filled up, growing into three, four, even five pages. And none of the viewers had any idea.

"Hmm, still a bit unnatural."

Yujin thought to herself. It was to be expected, though. You can’t become a special forces soldier in just a few weeks. Still, compared to others’ awkward movements, Harmony’s progress was clear. That much was certain.

Dark Zone wasn’t reality. That was a common misconception. Except for the hardcore modes, elements like gun weight, recoil, and countless other variables functioned very differently than they did in real life. Most players didn’t realize this.

Thanks to this, Icarus International had legally distanced itself from claims of fostering real-life violence while simultaneously enhancing the simulation experience—giving players just enough auto-assist to make them feel like actual special forces operatives.

It was all about striking a balance between cool aesthetics and practical functionality.

And Yujin could see right through that balance.

<DoYouLikeIt 님이 10,000원 후원하였습니다!>
–"Yujin-sensei, our dear Noknyang is looking amazing! What rank would you say her skill level is?"

“...Because of that ridiculous description of me, I really don’t want to answer your question. But thanks for the donation anyway.”

–"LOL."
–"Yujin’s secretly sensitive about her reputation, hahaha!"
–"She’s extra cute today, hahaha."
–"Living point: If you tease the professor with embarrassing nicknames, her reactions are priceless."
–"LOL."

These punks.

That thought flitted through Yujin’s mind before disappearing. Of course, her viewers weren’t stupid. But they also knew exactly how to rile up their streamers with perfect timing.

To put it simply, they loved to mess with their favorite streamers. They couldn’t care less about public opinion, but they’d spread Yujin’s embarrassing nicknames like wildfire across the internet.

Of course, cross a line, and—

Smack!

“Gyaaa!”

Yujin folded an unruly viewer in half before coolly returning to the game.

“Anyway, I’ll talk about this later. Right now, we’re in the middle of gameplay.”

–"I don’t think you should be saying that after snapping a viewer in half."
–"Yujin uses the interview function so hilariously, haha!"
–"Later?!"
–"That’s a reward!"
–"How is that a reward, you freaks, LOL."

Ignoring the chaos, Yujin began typing out a message.

It was simple.

After crafting it in under a minute, she sent it with a soft “ping” and promptly left Harmony’s stream. The collaboration would likely continue for another few days, judging by Harmony’s comments about how massive the content would be.

There was no point in staying any longer. It would just be distracting. And besides, the real work would begin once the stream ended.

She added a note suggesting they could talk later if Harmony had the energy after the stream. If she was too tired, they could catch up later. Yujin figured Harmony would appreciate the thoughtfulness.

With that settled, Yujin returned to her private room to start her own content.

“Alright, let’s check out this levitation simulator. It seems simple, but it actually has over a dozen different control keys. Let’s see what it’s all about.”

How did her viewers always manage to find the weirdest games?

Shaking her head, she launched the game.

It would take only ten minutes for Yujin and her viewers to pass out from the sheer absurdity of the game.

<Yujin: I’ve noted down some points for improvement based on today’s play. If you have time after the stream and you’re up for it, feel free to reach out. No rush though—take your time! (๑′ᴗ‵๑)>

“Moni, why did you freeze up all of a sudden?”

“Oh, uh…nothing…”

It's scary, it's scary.

Harmony could not rest.