7.

Assistant Manager Kim, who was usually sharper than anyone when it came to work, looked unusually antsy today.

He had started packing up at 5:30 p.m. and was now fidgeting, watching the seconds tick by.

It was a laid-back company, and he was normally a diligent employee who didn’t place much importance on “quitting time,” always working hard. No one frowned or thought, ’Look at this guy, an assistant manager, shamelessly trying to leave early.’ Instead, they just assumed, ’Something must be going on at home,’ and left it at that.

Well, until something did happen.

“What’s up, Kim? Something going on at home?”

“Ah! Mr. Park, I’m sorry. I was just too...”

“No, no, it’s fine. Everyone here knows you’re good at your job, and it’s not like this is the kind of place where we give people the stink eye over that stuff. If you have unfinished work, you can do it tomorrow. And there’s no way you’d be standing here like this if your work wasn’t done. It’s just, you’re not usually like this, so I wondered if something was going on at home that you felt awkward bringing up. If that’s the case, don’t worry about it and head out.”

“No, sir. It’s fine.”

“Hey now. I said it’s fine. Did I do something to upset you?”

“No, absolutely not. I just got a little antsy and ended up worrying everyone. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Really, it’s fine, so you don’t have to say anything—just go ahead and leave early.”

“Really, it’s not like that, sir. Honestly...”

“Come on, are you sure you’re not upset with me about something? Anyone can see you’re in a hurry.”

Assistant Manager Kim remained silent.

If it had been an employee who was always causing trouble, no one would have worried; they would have just scolded him.

Especially if he had packed up before quitting time and was standing there like a high schooler waiting for the lunch bell—what was there to like about that?

But it was different for a top performer.

When you had a highly competent assistant manager who contributed so much to the team, you wanted to look out for him, maybe slip him an extra perk or two. If you saw that he wanted to leave early, sometimes you wanted to let him.

In this kind of situation, extending this favor to a deserving employee was a great opportunity to boost the whole team’s morale.

The manager generously pushed Assistant Manager Kim’s back.

Assistant Manager Kim, who had been watching the clock for some reason, would normally have refused vehemently, but with a gentle shove, he found himself heading toward the elevators.

He kept muttering, “I really shouldn’t,” but once his feet started moving, his steps grew lighter and lighter.

Watching him, Manager Park became certain.

“That’s just how it is. Work is important, but so is home. You can’t do this every day, of course, but if it’s serious enough to make you this anxious, you should say something. There’s not a single supervisor who’d dislike a hard-working employee like you for being honest. No one’s going to think, This guy’s slacking off, just because you tell the truth and leave.”

Assistant Manager Kim didn’t know what to say.

’What a model supervisor.’

As the elevator doors opened, Manager Park pushed Assistant Manager Kim inside and gave him a cool wave.

“I won’t ask why today. Next time, just give me a heads-up that something’s going on, okay?”

“...Yes.”

Assistant Manager Kim nodded, his expression conflicted.

He hesitated as the doors were about to close, then finally forced the words out.

“Um, thank you, sir. And I think I should tell you... The Liberation War of the Rich Kingdom in 『Fantastic World』 starts at six, so I was a bit on edge. I’m sorry. And thank you for understanding.”

Manager Park looked confused.

The doors slid shut with perfect timing.

Manager Park was left speechless for a long moment.

*

And so, the revolution in 『Fantastic World』 was a hot topic for countless people.

And not just any hot topic.

People watched with rapt attention, as if a real war had broken out.

What was even more surprising was that over ninety-five percent of the viewers were openly rooting for one side.

—I’m actually shaking.

—Is this for real? I’ve played 『FW』 for a year and a half, and I’ve never once seen Simin take a loss.

—He even cleaned Kenji out. Is he really going to lose a kingdom that’s basically his foundation?

—From what I know, forget the casino; the income from his territory alone is on par with a major corporation in the real world. If he really loses it, that’s basically an “end it all ending,” isn’t it?

—Don’t talk like you know anything. Do you have any idea how much that bastard’s made so far? Even the mutt next door knows he pulls in millions per stream.

—After taxes, he probably doesn’t even see half of it.

—Half is still insane. That means he’s taking home over $10,000,000 a month.

—Anyway, I’ve always wanted to see Simin crash and burn at least once before I die. This is perfect.

—Yeah, that was literally the one thing I always felt was missing from his streams.

Even Han Simin’s own fans were saying as much.

From a fan’s perspective, the proper thing to do was cheer for him, of course. But as the saying goes, "like streamer, like fans"—their personalities had started to resemble his.

In any case, the curtain had risen on the war.

Six p.m. The time everyone had been waiting for, the time that had been so boldly and confidently announced.

The army, revealed through various streams, was enormous.

So many channels were broadcasting the event that it was impossible to capture the entire scene in a single frame.

That was how wide the Rich Kingdom was, and how many people had gathered.

People couldn’t help but comment. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

—Did they literally surround the entire kingdom with people?

—This is insane.

—That kingdom is basically nothing but empty land once you take out the Rich Casino and his territory.

Everyone agreed the headcount was excessive; no one disputed that.

The complaints were about something else.

—Is Simin not going live? I don’t like this POV.

—I’d even take Kenji at this point.

—Why would Kenji go live? They’re in the middle of a raid.

—His stream is on. Yeah, he’s just raiding.

There was nothing particularly worth watching.

Plenty of rankers had gathered, hoping to kill two birds with one stone by earning both rewards and viewers. But watching this massive event—this absurdly large-scale spectacle, possibly the first and greatest in FW history—from their point of view meant a high risk of missing the truly crucial moments.

To put it bluntly, they were small fry.

In the end, the focus was simple:

Kenji’s revenge, after being screwed over by Simin for so long.

The countless small fry who had gathered for that revenge.

And Han Simin, who had to stop them.

It was obvious whose point of view was the one to watch.

Yet it was like having an eighteen-course royal feast laid out with no spoon for the main dish.

Even so, people didn’t give up hope. They endured and waited.

After all, they had come this far with high expectations; they weren’t about to miss out just because of a bad camera angle.

On the community boards, they shared links to any stream that looked even remotely entertaining, and everyone flocked to those channels.

Thanks to this, certain types of channels boomed: high-level users who seemed talented at PK, rankers who specialized in warfare, and guilds notorious for their poor sportsmanship.

Streamers who had already gotten what they wanted before the war even began promoted themselves even more aggressively.

Some of them even talked big, claiming they would single-handedly destroy the kingdom.

However, that didn’t last long.

From the moment a massive dragon entered the field of view of everyone surrounding the vast kingdom—

ROOOOAAAR!

ROOOOAAAR!

From the moment the broadcast showed the two dragons’ breath attacks, and the supposedly high-level rankers who had been all talk suddenly wavering—

And then:

—Hey, Simin just went live. Crazy bastard. It’s $500. I’m still buying. Later.

—Wow. This son of a bitch. Don’t tell me he orchestrated this war on purpose. Kenji’s not even participating. There’s literally no other way to watch this. This is basically a mega-corp monopoly. Shouldn’t the regulators step in or something?

—I don’t care. Screw it. I’m putting it on my maxed-out credit card.

—I’m using my phone bill.

—Mom, I’m sorry.

From the moment the chance appeared to switch to Han Simin’s point of view, who had just made the flashiest entrance of his life—

Without exception, the viewers who had been calling him the villain of the continent, the traitor of the century, the one they hoped would finally go down in flames—all of them flocked to Han Simin’s stream.

8.

Among streamers, there’s a saying:

"A streamer who gets rattled by viewer aggro is third-rate. A streamer who laughs at it is second-rate. A streamer who creates it is first-rate."

Whether you’re a streamer who broadcasts for free and lives off ad revenue, or one who sells paid content, the bottom line is the same: no viewers, no money.

Unless you’re running one of those adult streams that maintain a steady, guaranteed audience, it’s a line you can’t help but relate to.

In that sense, Han Simin was in a class of his own.

"Ruining your life only takes a moment, but even if I lose the territory, I’ll still have enough to live on, so I might as well just half-ass the defense and focus on the stream."

He had never been attached to the kingdom in the first place.

He’d be happy to keep it, but he wouldn’t be particularly upset if he lost it.

The one who would be heartbroken was the aide.

The only reason he had prepared this much since the war against the Warlocks—or rather, prepared even more thoroughly than back then—was because of the aide.

His mindset had changed.

Up until now, his attitude had been, ’Let’s just coast along and make a living.’

But now, his territory—what could be called his everything—was on the verge of being stolen by pigs blinded by greed. The threat woke the instincts that had lain dormant inside him all this time.

"I mean, I am a Legendary Tamer. It would be weirder if I didn’t have at least two dragons."

Balance, whatever.

He had more or less figured out BetaGo’s patterns now, so there was no need to be afraid.

The Main Quest was already barreling toward the endgame, so there was no point in holding back anymore.

And with Squeaker already kicked out, what was the point of keeping up the polymorph?

He was going to put on a show.

He would make more than Kenji was making by playing the Legendary-grade Pope.

"Let’s go."

The two dragons that had made such a spectacular entrance beat their wings.

The time was exactly six o’clock, the hour announced by those who had started the war.

*

The appearance of the dragons was definitely not part of the plan for the war’s orchestrators.

However, the variable didn’t backfire. On the contrary, it drew an even larger crowd.

The first dragon raid on the continent.

It was a can’t-lose bet, which made it all the more irresistible.

Rankers who had only been watching from afar now headed for the Rich Kingdom as well.

The numbers kept climbing.

Even for Han Simin, who had mobilized everything—dragons, Sudal, the Rabbits—it was impossible not to feel the pressure.

In novels, you might see ridiculous scenes where the protagonist single-handedly fights and defeats hundreds of thousands of enemies, but this was reality.

And this wasn’t even hundreds of thousands.

It was millions.

No, at this rate, it felt like every living creature on the continent, even the orcs, was gathering here. You could probably call it tens of millions.

And he was supposed to dive into that?

Han Simin was not an idiot.

He made his decision.

"I’m only going to defend the Rich Territory."

"Do you have a method, my lord?"

"Just trust me. Aide, I’ll find a way to save at least the Rich Territory, no matter what."

At some point he had slipped into casual speech, but the aide did not mind and simply nodded.

Han Simin held out his hand.

"Hand over the Gold you’ve been stashing away."