TGAT 07

Chapter 07

Around lunchtime the next day, Songjun’s heart began to race.
Standing in front of the door of a rather luxurious apartment in central Seoul, he took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.

• Who is it?
  “Excuse me. Is this Dr. Kim’s studio? The Creative Studio?”

The door lock clicked, and the face he had seen on YouTube came into view.

“Your name…?”
“I’m Songjun.”
“Oh! That’s right. Come in! Sometimes fans just drop by unannounced, you know.”

The middle-aged man, radiating the warm generosity he had seen on YouTube, swung the door wide open.

“Excuse me.”
“Ha ha. It’s a bit chaotic since I don’t have a dedicated studio. The kids are at that age where they’re full of energy.”

It was clearly a family home with children who looked like they could be in elementary or kindergarten, and Songjun couldn’t help but smile.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Dr. Kim! Or no, that’s not right. I’m Kim Yongju.”
“Yes, hello. I’m Songjun from Creative Studio.”
“Wow, your voice is really nice. I thought it was just a broadcast voice.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“No, seriously. A good voice is a huge asset on YouTube.”

From the moment Dr. Kim opened the door, he struggled to hide his surprise.

The person in front of him was completely different from the image he had imagined. Warm, approachable, and sincere.

“Why do you hide your face? If you went public, I bet your subscriber count would skyrocket!”
“Ha ha… It’s just personal. I think it’s too soon to show my face on broadcast.”
“Fair enough. That makes sense if you’re just starting out.”

Dr. Kim led Songjun to his room, which had a soundproof booth installed.

“Wow…”

The walls were covered with merchandise, a worktable, and various limited-edition collectibles scattered around.

“I’ve collected a lot of things over time. My wife just sighs when she sees this. That’s why the kids aren’t allowed in here. Haha.”
“This is amazing! I dream of having a soundproof booth like this someday.”

Every detail captured Songjun’s attention.

“I’m curious. The Forgotten King on Hard Mode… is it true that you hadn’t played even ten rounds before?”

As soon as they sat down, Songjun asked the question that had been on his mind the most, while Dr. Kim handed him a drink.

“Yes. During the broadcast… maybe the sixth time? That should be about right.”
“Wow… that’s insane. Only six rounds, and you moved like that. Could you show that in the collab broadcast too?”

Songjun saw this as the perfect moment to naturally transition the conversation to the collab he had been waiting for.

“My conditions for the collab are… keeping my face hidden and not repeating Fallen Kingdom.”
“Face reveal is one thing… but not Fallen Kingdom?”

Kim Yongju raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“I think the Fallen Kingdom broadcast can be replaced with my own video. Also, if I don’t perform as well as the 4 minutes 27 seconds I did previously, it might actually be worse.”

He wondered what preparations Songjun, the streamer, had made, and what he would show. Curiosity piqued.

“Hmm…”

It wasn’t a refusal or displeasure—just curiosity. Songjun quickly added:

“Fallen Kingdom is fine, but I can also show exceptional skill in other games. Instead of just Fallen Kingdom, how about a ‘Master Gamer Seat’ for multiple games?”

Kim Yongju laughed at Songjun’s response. It might have seemed arrogant.

A “Master Gamer Seat” implied that he wasn’t just good at Fallen Kingdom, but skilled in other games as well.

“This is the video that will go on my YouTube tomorrow.”

Songjun played a video and handed it over. It wasn’t prepared specifically for this moment, but the timing was perfect.

“Oh…?”

Kim Yongju focused on the phone intently. The game was considered one of the hardest in the so-called “arcade-type” genre.

“Whoa… doing it like this?”

Most arcade-type games have fixed patterns, but this game changes patterns every time it’s played.

“Holy… a speedrun? And not even live? How many times have you played this?”

Songjun’s gameplay on screen was astonishing.

He acted with precision, knowing exactly when to strike, not relying on luck. Even as patterns changed constantly, he played boldly.

If one thought about whether any streamer had performed this well in the game before, the answer was no.

No wonder this game is called the “wall of tears” for its physical difficulty.

“By the way, that’s my third playthrough.”
“Ha… your physical skill is insane. I see why you can be so confident.”

Kim Yongju handed back the phone and stroked his chin.

“Can you do other games too?”
“Definitely.”

Songjun’s face lit up at the faint smile tugging at Kim Yongju’s lips.

“Interesting. Let’s accept that proposal. But it has to be live, not recorded.”
“High risk, high return.”
“If you show the same confidence as in that video, it will be all reward.”

Ideas for how to handle the broadcast were already forming in Songjun’s mind.

“How about next Monday? For the collab.”
“You’ll see more than you expect that day.”

Songjun lifted one corner of his mouth, confident, and shook Kim Yongju’s hand.

After the meeting, as he left the building, Songjun exhaled deeply and relaxed his breathing.

“Phew…”

Clenching his fist as he stepped out:

“Yesss… success!”

[Jooyeongseok: Meeting over?]

Songjun quickly replied to Jooyeongseok’s message from thirty minutes earlier and tapped his bus card.

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”

[Acquisition in progress (2/3): Games (47), Voice (10)]

His gaming skills were improving faster than expected.

He also realized a few things:

1. Skills learned in life influence initial proficiency.

2. Focusing on only one game limits skill growth.

After broadcasting, he tried other souls-like games besides Fallen Kingdom, but his talent didn’t improve.

‘So I need to experience a variety of games—FPS, rhythm, board games… anything in the gaming category.’

The talent-sharing network seemed to encourage learning broadly, not taking shortcuts.

‘Good. This aligns with my plan to show overwhelming physical skill on the broadcast anyway.’

.
.
.
.
.

• Crazy. Truly crazy.

After work, Jooyeongseok kept repeating the same phrase after hearing about the meeting.

• Only you would have the guts to pull this off in front of a 700k-subscriber YouTuber, with only a thousand-something subscribers yourself.
  “1,500.”

• What?
  “My subscribers just hit 1,500. And the collab… it’s mutual benefit, right?”

• But you made it happen. You’re insane. Really.

Collabs like this usually have a huge disparity in subscribers, and the one with fewer usually bends.

But the outcome of this negotiation was perfect. Even for someone with MCN experience, it was absurdly good.

• So, when is the collab scheduled?
  “Next Monday.”

• Pretty soon? Hmm… no, that’s good. Sooner is better. The buzz will continue, which is ideal.

Jooyeongseok muttered to himself for a while, then continued randomly.

• After the collab, schedule your solo broadcast quickly. Even if some viewers don’t come, you’ll still get 6,000, sometimes over 10,000. Ride that wave so they check out your broadcast too.
  “Definitely a good opportunity.”

1,500 vs 700,000. If successful, it could instantly boost subscriber numbers dramatically.

• Since you negotiated, you have to show results. Got it?
  “Of course. It’ll exceed whatever you imagine.”

When it came to gaming skill, the name Creative Studio should come first in people’s minds.

Monday afternoon.

“Welcome.”

Kim Yongju smiled broadly as Songjun arrived on time.

The hype after announcing a live collab exceeded expectations.
Most seemed to be from jealousy or opposing fans, but in the industry, even negative attention counts.

“Many seem curious about Songjun. Comments increased more than usual after the collab notice.”

Laughing, he led Songjun into the room and handed over a mask on the desk.

“Here, try this. I prepared it since you want to hide your face.”

It was a full-face mask with eye holes like large ski goggles and a mouth covering like a hockey mask.

“An LED expression mask. Inspired by Jay from Lone Wolf during gameplay.”
“Wow. Fascinating. You made this yourself?”

It reminded Songjun of the ‘engineer-philosopher’ moments he had seen on Wikitree.

Putting on the mask, it was surprisingly comfortable and the view wasn’t obstructed.

“Can you see okay?”
“Yes. Feels like wearing slightly bright sunglasses.”
“Oh! Perfect fit! When I wore it, I looked like a gorilla! Now you really look like Hacker Jay!”

With a hat added, he exuded the aura of a mysterious gaming master.

“Can you play with this on? If uncomfortable, sunglasses over the mask will do.”
“Yeah… should be fine.”
“Normally, expressions on the screen can be changed via phone, but now just keep the smiley face.”

A smile emoji (^_^) appeared on the mask; it didn’t obstruct his view, only brightened the feel slightly.

“Okay. Let’s start; I think you’re used to it now.”

Kim Yongju adjusted the camera and finished prepping the broadcast.

“Today. 24-hour non-stop streaming. This is just the beginning. Haha… once you watch Songjun’s stream, you’ll be hooked.”

He grinned and signaled the start.

“Enter when I gesture. Use this chair.”
“Got it.”
“Practiced enough?”
“You’ll be impressed.”
“Oh… can’t wait then.”

Songjun nodded, glancing at the numbers on screen.

[Acquisition in progress (2/3): Games (52), Voice (12)]

It was worth the anticipation—not just the number 52, but the gameplay it represented. Songjun himself was amazed.

“Alright everyone, are you present today?”

• Doctor’s broadcast ON!

• Pakha! (Doctor Hi)

• Oooh! 24-hour non-stop!

• And a collab too!

• Haha, they squeezed the collab into 24 hours of nothing to do. Genius.

“Looks like everyone’s here. Let’s start! Everyone knows today is 24-hour non-stop with a collab! Let’s begin Part 1!”

Kim Yongju cleared his throat and began:

“Hello, YouTube viewers! I’m middle-aged gamer Dr. Kim! It’s rare for a game exhausted by streamers to suddenly regain popularity, unless there’s a DLC or some new discovery.”

He removed all humor from his voice and narrated professionally.

“But the most popular game recently among streamers, Fallen Kingdom, is different. No DLC, nothing new… just one person.”

Exactly the passionate player seen on YouTube. Watching someone live like this up close was fascinating.

“Stamp-breaking. Now known as Creative Studio, a mysterious gamer. It all started with SJ. Similar things happened when a streamer cleared the hardest boss in Fallen Kingdom in 5 minutes.”

Indeed, that incident left an impact, helping Kim Gamepack gain fame as a physical-skilled YouTuber.

“But this is on another level. 4 minutes 30 seconds. Many attempted. Including me, I couldn’t beat 5 minutes. Some even suspected hacks or edited videos.”

Kim Yongju shook his finger, denying it.

“But! He proved it live. 4 minutes 30? No, 4 minutes 27. Perfect play. The talk of the month. Let’s welcome Creative Studio.”

“…….”

• ???

• Why isn’t he showing?

• Broadcast glitch?

Even during the introduction, Songjun didn’t appear on screen. Both Kim Yongju’s expression and the chat began to reflect confusion.