Honestly, I have no talent as a streamer.
My gaming skills aren't exceptional, I'm not good-looking, and I'm not even funny.
All my life, people told me the one thing I had going for me was my voice, and eventually they went so far as to suggest I become a radio DJ or a voice actor.
But those are jobs for people with actual talent. Someone with my half-baked abilities couldn't pull it off.
So in the end, for better or worse, after a year of streaming, the result was:
An average of eleven viewers — making me what's known as a bottom-tier streamer.
And even that number surely included at least half who'd wandered off from their screens, using my stream as a substitute for the radio.
"Haah......"
― Jinwoo, why are you sighing again?
― Life's tough, right? Mine is too
― Should we just go work at a convenience store or something?
"I got fired today......"
Up until now I'd been juggling a convenience store part-time job alongside streaming, but now all I truly had left was the stream.
― Anonymous donated 1,000 won! ―
[How royally did you screw up to get fired from a convenience store?]
"I went to some asshole customer and got canned."
And he wasn't just any difficult customer.
The bastard kept hurling insults about my parents — and I was supposed to just take that?
I would've died of pent-up rage before that bastard ever kicked the bucket.
― Think about the hospital bills later and it might actually be cheaper
― What hospital bills?
― If you hold it in and get hwabyeong you'll croak
― I'm about to starve to death right now though?
"So today, I have a major announcement. Regarding my future, I need your help. Anyone have any good ideas?"
― Why are you telling us this?
― Did you leave your life in our hands?
― If you got fired from the convenience store, go do delivery or something
― There's also gas stations besides delivery
"......I'll look into that starting tomorrow, so for now let's just talk about the stream."
― Anonymous donated 5,000 won! ―
[Buy yourself a rice ball with this at least]
"Ahh, thank you for the 5,000 won."
The regulars who'd been watching my stream for a year.
I was grateful they were helping the stream even like this.
"Alright, then let's start by setting a direction going forward. No matter how much I think about it on my own, I can't find an answer."
The chat paused for a moment, then started rolling again.
― Seriously, what are you even doing?
― How about an ASMR stream?
― Your voice is good, so why not do advice counseling or something?
― Counseling, for real, that's the one
― Hearing that voice would probably make things better
"Advice counseling?"
I scrolled through the chat once.
Not that there were even ten messages to scroll through.
More importantly, counseling, huh.......
― Yeah, it's not like you have anything else to do
"I'm only twenty-five — would I actually be any help?"
― Anonymous donated 1,000 won! ―
[Jinwoo, honestly your gaming sucks, your talk game is just so-so, and the only thing you've got going for you is your voice]
Son of a......
I couldn't argue back because nothing he said was wrong.
I looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then pulled the microphone closer.
"Alright. Starting today, we begin Day One of the counseling stream. Anyone and everyone, hop on Daincode."
Daincode.
A program where anyone with a microphone could communicate anonymously. I created a room and set a password.
"The password is 1004. First come, first served for counseling, so you'd better hurry in, right?"
― Even last place would only be eleventh though?
― Oh, half are lurking, so last place would be sixth
― Could be fifth
― Me! Me! I want to!
"Come on in."
About a minute passed.
With a click, one of the viewers entered the Daincode room.
In that instant.
My head suddenly went blank — though rather than blank, it was more like something was pouring in.
"Huh?"
Along with an unfamiliar voice, I could see someone's room — a cluttered desk, a powered-off laptop, and job posting printouts stuck to the wall.
The printouts in particular were covered in lines drawn with red pen and crossed-out entries.
And then I heard that person's voice.
"Hello."
Late twenties, maybe?
I opened my mouth while still dazed.
"You've been job hunting for a long time."
"Excuse me?"
"Has it been three years?"
Silence followed.
"H-how did you know that?"
I didn't know.
To be precise, I just saw it. Whether I closed my eyes or opened them, that person's room unfolded vividly inside my head.
"Your worries aren't just about employment, are they? Things have gotten bad with your parents too. It's complicated."
"......"
"Your father's been saying a lot, hasn't he?"
"That's......"
"It's alright. I understand everything. Please, speak comfortably."
At my gentle voice, his guarded tone melted away like snow.
No — it didn't just soften. He even started choking up.
"That's right... My father told me to just give up and take the civil service exam. But I have something else I want to do......"
I gazed at the scene laid out before me.
Among the job postings, a crumpled sheet of paper.
Sketches of something drawn on it.
These are design sketches.
"Is it design?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Do you have a portfolio?"
"I do, but it's still not good enough......"
I spoke while looking at the crumpled papers before my eyes.
"Submit it. Even at your current level, there are plenty of places you'd get into."
"How could you possibly......"
"Just submit it. If you don't submit, it's zero percent. If you do, at least there's a one percent chance."
For a long while, there was no response. Then a small — truly small — voice came through.
"......Thank you."
Click.
I heard the sound of him leaving, and I looked at my monitor. The chat was in an uproar.
No — more than that, how many people are there now?
[Viewers: 25]
Twenty-five?!
More than double the usual.
― How did he know that?
― The three years thing and the personal stuff, how did he know?
― What is he, an actor?
― If not, does it make sense?
"An actor...? Where would I get the money to hire an actor... I can barely afford to eat day to day......"
― Oh damn, that's true
― Then again, I've been watching for over a year and he's not smart enough for that
― Is he stupid?
― He's not on the bright side
These bastards are openly talking behind my face.
But why do they keep spitting nothing but facts?
They should be doing it fair and square with propaganda and fabrication.
Phew...... let's just keep going for now.
I need to figure out what this situation is, too.
"Next person, come on in. The password is 1004."
Moments later, with a ding!, the next viewer entered, and once again an unfamiliar scene appeared before me.
There was a young student, wearing a school uniform and sitting at a desk.
On the desk, instead of textbooks, a thick art catalogue lay open, covered in handwritten notes crammed into every margin.
Another art-related one?
Ahh, so this is how bleak it is for arts and athletics students in our country.
"Hello."
The voice was high and thin — looked about seventeen or eighteen.
"First year of high school?"
"How did you know?!"
"I can tell just from the voice. You want to go to art school, but your parents are against it?"
"How did you know that too?!"
"Just from the voice... ah, I guess you can't tell from that? Anyway, go ahead and talk."
"......"
After a moment of hesitation, the student shared her situation in a small voice.
"My grades are actually pretty good, and that's exactly why they're even more against it. They say with grades like these, I could even get into medical school."
"......"
Now that's a curveball.
If it were me, and I could send my kid to either art school or medical school, I'd send them to medical school too — but that's not how this should go.
Right now, I need counseling from the student's side, completely.
I peered into the student's room and spotted several sketchbooks hidden inside the desk drawer.
From old ones to recent ones.
As I looked at the sketchbooks, the drawings inside became visible too — at this level, she could absolutely get into art school.
"Take out those sketchbooks you've been hiding in your drawer."
From beyond the phone, I heard the sound of her swallowing, and then the sight of the student opening the drawer and pulling out the sketchbooks.
"I-I took them out, but how on earth did you know about them? D-do you have some kind of camera here......?"
"You're not even using a laptop, and your monitor doesn't have a camera on it — how would I be watching?"
"But you ARE watching right now! How many fingers am I holding up?!"
"Three. More importantly, take those to your parents and talk to them properly. Tonight."
"H-how......"
While the student couldn't finish her sentence, I felt the scene before my eyes shift.
Until now, I'd only seen the present. This time was different.
The student's room blurred, and another scene began overlapping.
The dinner table.
The student was standing in the living room, clutching the sketchbooks to her chest.
Her father was on the sofa, her mother near the kitchen — and amid the taut atmosphere, the student...... Eunhye mustered her courage, approached her father, and held out the sketchbook.
"Dad......."
Her father received the sketchbook Eunhye offered, his expression rigid at first, then slowly began to flip through.
One page, two pages, three pages.
With each page turned, her father's expression shifted little by little, and soon he called Eunhye's mother over.
"Eunhye's mom, come here and look at this."
At her father's call, her mother came to the living room and opened one of the sketchbooks — her eyes wavered. She wasn't completely won over.
But something that had been firmly shut cracked open, just slightly.
What followed was a conversation.
A long, quiet conversation that lasted late into the night, and the scene vanished with the image of Eunhye crying as she fell into her mother's and father's arms.
"Mom...... Dad......!"
Watching the scene fade, I spoke.
"Tonight, take your sketchbooks and go to your father. Don't say anything first — just hand them to him."
"Huh...?"
"Without any explanation, just give them to him. So your father can flip through them himself. Eunhye, understand?"
"H-how do you know my name too?!"
At Eunhye's startled voice, I hesitated for a moment.
I wasn't sure if it was right to tell her everything about the future.
But Eunhye seemed to need certainty.
"Eunhye, who do you love most in the whole world?"
"My parents."
"Right. Just as much as you love your parents, they love you more than anything in this world too. So trust them and show them. Then it'll be okay."
"......Really?"
"Yeah."
A long silence passed, and then Eunhye's voice came through, sounding at least a little lighter.
"Alright. ......Thank you for listening to my worries."
"Sure. And thanks for watching my stream."
"Oh, I just leave it on in the background while I draw — it helps me draw better, so I'm just using it like a radio."
"......I see."
Kids these days are honest.
They really don't have to be this honest.
"Well, I'll get going now."
She was still trembling, but the hopelessness from before was gone.
"Study hard. And keep drawing."
Click.
Eunhye left, and I checked the viewer count — it had grown even more from before.
[Viewers: 33]
......Thirty-three?
Did I make it?
― How did he guess three fingers??????
― Can he see the future too?
― You bastard, you had an ability like this and you've been hiding it all this time?
― Damn this is good, it's actually fun
― Bro, are you one of those "loser secretly hiding his power" types?
― Anonymous donated 1,000 won! ―
[You hid an ability like this and what have you been doing for a year?]
"Hahaha...... I didn't know about it either."
If I'd known, I would've done this ages ago.
― Anonymous donated 1,000 won! ―
[So am I next?]
― Anonymous donated 1,000 won! ―
[It's me though?]
― Anonymous donated 1,000 won! ―
[Honestly, the original eleven should get priority counseling, right?]
"Alright, alright, whoever comes in first goes first. Let's continue with the next person."