#13
Though this situation couldn’t be anything but awkward, Imun was busy taking care of the viewers rather than demanding an explanation. On top of that, from him—
“…You watched my videos?”
“Haha, yes. Your explanations were the easiest to understand. I especially watched your beginner guides over and over.”
He had just heard the shocking confession that Imun had studied Legend of Legend using his gameplay as a textbook. He suddenly understood why Imun’s playstyle had appealed to him so much.
While the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably with joy, his eyes reddened with guilt and gratitude toward Imun. Afraid he might show a grotesque face of both crying and laughing, Hajun bowed his head deeply.
Even as Hajun tried to compose his intense emotions, Imun was calmly communicating with viewers, just as he had done with Hajun’s grandmother.
This guy is something else. Around the time Hajun had regained his composure as if he’d never been nervous and was chuckling to himself—
“Hyung, um…”
“Oh, oh! What is it?”
“…Could we talk on the phone for a moment? I actually have something to say—”
[10,000 won donation! Could it be Imun…?]
Hajun involuntarily flinched at the donation. I didn’t make any mistakes. Wondering if he had unconsciously called out Imun’s name, he went through his memories several times, but there was absolutely no way he had.
He couldn’t even begin to guess how the viewer knew Imun’s real name. Imun also seemed startled, keeping his mouth tightly shut.
While Hajun was hiding his bewilderment and trying to assess the situation, a video donation took over the screen.
[10,000 won donation! (YouTube video)]
Inside what looked like a radio booth. A black-haired man appeared, fidgeting with his headset. Though the video quality wasn’t good enough to see his face clearly, the outline of his well-proportioned body was visible.
Who is this person? As he blankly watched the incomprehensible donation and blinked, the man in the video began speaking.
[“I’ve been playing this game recently. It’s called Legend of Le—, and it’s more fun than I expected. Since we’re on a break and schedules are sparse, I got really into it…”]
The man’s voice and manner of speaking were very similar to Imun’s. While thinking how impressive it was that viewers could find a celebrity with a similar voice in such a short time, he couldn’t shake an inexplicable strange feeling.
After the short video ended, the chat moved at a speed he’d never seen before. Among the chat filled with question marks, words like “idol,” “OnS,” and “Imun” were vaguely visible.
Though he couldn’t understand what was happening, he knew he needed to stop Imun’s name from being mentioned.
What should I do? If he tried to ban people from saying the name, he would essentially be confirming that his real name was “Imun.” While he was at a loss for a solution, another video donation hit the screen.
This time it was a clip containing Imun’s voice as he had been conversing with viewers just moments ago. Hearing it right after the radio video, the similarity between the two voices was eerie.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one who felt uneasy, as the chat speed increased even more. It was now difficult to even read individual words.
I think there was a function to adjust the speed. As he was fumbling through the system, trying to recall his hazy memory, the second video ended. As if they had been waiting, donations poured in again.
[10,000 won donation! This is some next-level sixth sense]
[1,000 won donation! Is it Imun?!?! Is it Imun?!?! Is it Imun?!?!]
[3,000 won donation! Imun, what are you doing instead of preparing for your comeback?]
What’s this about a comeback? He felt like he was the only one left out in his own broadcast. The donations pretending to be familiar with Imun continued to grate on his ears. Unable to keep up with the situation, he started feeling anxious.
“What… what is this? Who is that man? Is his name… Imun? Why suddenly his video…”
As he was trying to ask the viewers for some clue, a cold mechanical sound sharply stimulated his hearing.
[50,000 won donation! To think Gangha-hyung was friends with an idol]
[20,000 won donation! The radio video looks like Imun from On The Sky]
Radio. Break period. Comeback. Idol. Voice. Imun.
The disconnected words instantly linked together like puzzle pieces. It was a hypothesis he couldn’t believe even as he formulated it.
“No… way. Come on.”
Just as he was laughing incredulously and denying reality, Imun let out a deep sigh.
Right? It’s absurd. As he was smiling awkwardly, hoping Imun would directly deny it—
“…Hyung, I’m sorry. Actually, I was… going to tell you… I’m… an idol singer.”
His mind went blank, almost evaporating. What he heard didn’t properly register in his brain. “Idol?” he stupidly repeated Imun’s words in a soulless tone.
After sitting motionless for a few seconds as if the screen had frozen, his muddled consciousness returned only when Imun called him several times.
“You’re… an idol?!”
***
My close friend turned out to be not a college student but a male idol.
The situation was absurd enough to be the title of a light novel. Just as he was about to lose his senses again from the shock, a donation snatched back his fleeing sanity.
[30,000 won donation! Gangha, the chat isn’t working!]
It seemed the system couldn’t handle the overheated chat. He widened his eyes as he listened to the continuous donations that were serving as replacements for the chat.
His mind felt like it was about to explode, just like the chat. He didn’t have the confidence to handle both the viewers and Imun while resolving the situation.
“Uh… I’ll call you back.”
Let’s end the call first. Before Imun could respond, he unilaterally ended the call and entered the settings panel.
The chat freezing was something he had experienced only once before, since the day he had revealed his face. Since he had simply turned off the broadcast that time, he wasn’t familiar with the recovery method.
While fumbling around trying to restore the chat, Hajun’s face turned pale, beyond mere embarrassment.
The viewers seemed desperate to get Imun’s attention. The parade of donations, which almost felt manic, was difficult to watch.
Just as he grabbed the mouse to block donations, as if sensing his intention, a photo donation decorated the screen.
A man sitting in a radio booth. Hajun instinctively knew this was Imun. All sounds were blocked, and all his nerves focused on the screen.
A selfie taken in a well-set mood. A captured moment of dancing on stage in a black suit. A side profile of him joking around in a hoodie.
The young man, dressed in various styles, was smiling brightly in every photo.
So this is you. He thought that they would meet face-to-face someday, but he never imagined seeing him like this.
After examining the unfamiliar man’s distinct features in a daze, Hajun held his forehead.
It felt like someone was forcibly opening his brain and pouring in massive amounts of information. Feeling momentarily dizzy, he turned his eyes to the wall clock.
There was only a little time left before the broadcast ended. The corners of his eyes trembled involuntarily, suggesting he had reached his limit both mentally and physically.
“…It seems difficult to restore the chat. I’ll end today’s broadcast here. See you next time.”
After ending the stream with an appropriate closing statement, he roughly pulled out his earphones. The throbbing headache and pounding heart made it difficult to think normally.
After lying face down on the desk and taking several minutes to regulate his breathing, his heartbeat finally slowed down.
You’re really an idol? As he was pulling himself together and laughing incredulously, his phone on the desk vibrated. The caller seemed determined to reach him.
[Seo Imun]
The moment he faced the phone screen, the face of the man he had seen on the monitor flickered in his mind. Ah, I don’t know. After anxiously staring at Imun’s profile without a picture, he accepted the call with a “whatever happens, happens” attitude.
“Hey, Imun—”
“Hyung, I’m sorry. I didn’t deliberately deceive you with bad intentions.”
He didn’t even have time to finish speaking. An unprecedented tremor could be felt in Imun’s voice as he cut Hajun off.
He also seemed quite shocked by the unexpected development. The nervousness Hajun had barely managed to control came rushing back.
“I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have taken the call during a live stream… I had no idea things would get so complicated. And… I also… I also deceived you. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry… really sorry.” He felt so guilty he wanted to cry. While repeating the same words hoping his sincerity would somehow reach Imun, Imun stopped apologizing and suddenly laughed.
“Ah, I’m sorry.” “What, what for?” It was nothing if not an abrupt reaction. As Hajun rolled just his eyeballs, Imun hesitantly and carefully began, “Hmm.”
“I’m glad you’re a streamer, hyung. I heard developers usually have a lot of work, but you appeared in games so often… I was actually worried.”
“R-really? Sorry for… making you worry.”
It seemed like he was joking, but for many reasons, Hajun felt uneasy about responding with his usual bluster. Feeling uncertain, he apologized and waited for Imun’s response. Once again, quiet silence descended.
After enough time had passed to make the awkwardness unbearable, Hajun scraped together his last bit of courage. “…Imun?” After calling out countless times, Imun finally spoke.
“…Is that all you have to say, hyung?”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
