TGFTE 22

Chapter 22….

“Hello, I’m Kim Ppongtta!”

“Ah, yes… Nice to meet you.”

“Ppongtta-nim, thank you for replying first, and also for coming such a long way on the same day.”

Three men were sitting in a café.

Two men with playful appearances—Kim Ppongtta and Kim Soo-ho—who looked like natural friends.
And between them, Lee Ji-han, with a slightly awkward, faint smile.

“Hahaha, I saw your outdoor stream! But wow, seeing you in person, Ji-han-nim, you’re something else.”

“Ah, yes? Yes.”

“Sorry, Ppongtta-nim. This guy isn’t very sociable.”

“Looks like he’s shy with strangers?”

Kim Ppongtta grinned at Ji-han.
Ji-han, meeting his gaze, oddly felt reassured by how much he resembled Soo-ho.

“Anyway, thank you for inviting me for a collab. Normally, this could just be arranged through email or DMs, but since you were doing an outdoor stream, I really wanted to meet in person.”

The café was empty.
Still, outside the window, a few passersby seemed to recognize Kim Ppongtta, stealing glances at him.

After all, Kim Ppongtta was a streamer who revealed his face.
As many fans knew what he looked like, it was natural for self-proclaimed fans to hang around nearby.

“No, it’s just that you were the first person who came to mind. You’ve helped me in many ways too.”

Ji-han, now more at ease, responded with a faint smile.
Seeing this, Ppongtta chuckled and sipped his iced Americano.

“Honestly, I should be helping more as your manager. But since I started as a small streamer and this is my first time managing, I wanted to rely a bit more on Ppongtta-nim’s help.”

Soo-ho added with an awkward smile.
Though he managed with intuition and second-hand experience, direct contact and meetings like this were unfamiliar, making him slightly awkward.

“Usually, collab offers are handled through DMs, not formal emails.”

Maybe it was because Ji-han, having some corporate experience, insisted on sending a formal email.
Soo-ho smirked at him, while Ji-han just gave an embarrassed laugh.

“Typically it’s done in a more relaxed, casual atmosphere. Formal’s nice too, but right now, it’s better to just keep it chill.”

Ppongtta smiled playfully, easing the mood.

“So, I saw the outline. It’s quite the hot topic. In Pretzel, no one’s blown up this fast just days after starting a stream.”

Of course, Ppongtta had seen Ji-han’s rise—often late or missing his own streams.
Still, he brought it up to win Ji-han’s favor and help him relax.

“That’s true, Ji-han. Didn’t I tell you? You kept denying it, acting all modest, but now even Ppongtta-nim says so.”

“Back when I started, I only had like 13 viewers, you know?”

“Look at me, I only had 20 diehards in my ‘squad.’ Feels like even they’ve become your fans now, though.”

At their words, Ji-han blushed to his ears and stared only at his iced chocolate.

“This is kind of embarrassing… But still, thank you.”

Being able to express gratitude sincerely was one of the few social skills Ji-han had picked up at his old company.
A place full of painful memories, but one that had at least taught him some basic social survival.

“And, well, I had my share in making you a hot topic too, right, Ji-han-nim?”

“Hahaha, right, Ji-han.”

“Hahaha… Yes, that’s true.”

Ppongtta chuckled again and sipped his drink.
The three shared a soft laugh.

“Since we’re talking outlines—gaining viewers’ attention, pulling them in and supporting each other—that’s a really good thing.”

Still smiling playfully, Ppongtta’s eyes grew serious as he looked at Ji-han.
Ji-han met his gaze and nodded.

“But things don’t always go smoothly. It’s not a collab with a fixed concept or content.”

“Ah…”

“Though this audition has ended up being a kind of content itself.”

Ji-han nodded in understanding.

“Hide-and-seek was literally a 100-player survival match with collab rights with you at stake. That was content in itself.”

Speaking lightly, Ppongtta still pointed out the concerns weighing on him.

“But right now, it’s just looting the mall.”

“Even so… it’s the first time, right?”

“Yes, there’ve been mall-looting Zombress streams, but this is definitely the first.”

Ji-han knew his strength.
He was the first to dive into Zombress’s story.
In other words, he was the pioneer.

That alone made him content in the viewers’ eyes.

“That’s why I thought it’d be fun. But we need to be careful. Since you’re the pioneer, a lot of streamers will want to piggyback off you.”

That was Ppongtta’s concern.

At first, he’d just wanted to grow alongside Ji-han’s momentum.
But watching his streams, Ji-han became a streamer he wanted to nurture.
So now he worried sincerely.

“That’s why I think you should be the one to seize this chance, Ji-han-nim.”

And then came the shocking statement.

“…Sorry?”

“Ah, Ppongtta-nim, I think we’re on the same page here.”

The two lookalike men grinned at each other.
Ji-han alone sat confused, sipping his iced chocolate.

“The charm of Zombress is more in survival and crafting than story. So you should look for someone really skilled.”

“Ah…”

As Soo-ho had explained, Zombress was a game with crazy freedom and physics, letting players combine vehicles and weapons however they wanted.
So the advice was for Ji-han, who relied purely on skill, to also tap into its fundamental fun.

“You could pick a small streamer, a mid-tier, or even a big name. With me here, I can cover it to some extent.”

Ppongtta chuckled and sipped his drink.

“Our fandom’s notorious, right? Even the toxic ‘Mail Corps’ can be handled. So don’t worry.”

But his words echoed hollowly.

Those toxic fans—
Once terrorizing as the so-called “Ppong Swarm,” crashing other chats—
Had become tame sheep in Ji-han’s streams.

Still, he claimed they’d serve as a solid shield.

“Wait, you can really handle the Mail Corps?”

Soo-ho asked, sipping his ade.

“Controlling chat vibes and firepower. Sending toxic fans like an air raid on another streamer’s chat.”

It was a mischievous suggestion, but Ppongtta had always been Pretzel’s rogue.
Rough, but with conviction in his eyes.

“Actually, one of my disciples wants to collab with Ji-han-nim.”

“Disciple?”

“Not formally. Just someone I once trained during a content event.”

Finally, Ppongtta got to the point.

“That’s what I was leading up to, gentlemen.”

With a playful smile, his tone turned serious.

“One of my virtual streamer acquaintances. Mid-to-large fandom, corporate-backed. Lately, they’ve been binge-watching only Ji-han-nim’s clips.”

At this, Soo-ho’s face went pale.

“No wonder we’ve been getting anonymous emails lately… I ignored them all.”

“The Mail Corps is only a minority, you know.”

Ppongtta smiled.

“The company behind that friend is preparing a massive server.”

He cautiously revealed the main point.

“A massive server? For streamers?”

“Yes, a massive server.”

“Our Ji-han’s not that great, Ppongtta-nim. Odds are his stream might flop.”

That made Ppongtta burst out laughing as he continued.

“From what I saw in Zombress, his immersion is top-notch. I think he could have a completely new experience.”

At that, Ji-han’s eyes lit up.

A new experience.
Other than Zero Ground and Project Zombress, what else could there be?
And a massive server? That was a new concept.

“An RP server. In other words, ‘life mode.’”

“Roleplay?”

“Yes. Living in the game with your own backstory, like how you play Zombress now.”

Over-focus and over-immersion—two hurdles for Ji-han.
But hearing Ppongtta, he felt a tingling excitement.

“You seem interested?”

“I don’t fully get it, but I think I kind of do. Basically, living as another version of me, right?”

“Exactly. Like now—you may have had a rough past, but you’re living happily, aren’t you?”

Ppongtta grinned at Ji-han, who smiled back brightly.

“Anyway, that virtual friend is pretty popular among the new Zombress streamers. I cautiously recommend them. A collab. They’re probably dying to apply for your audition.”

The conditions were perfect.
A large fandom, solid core audience, guaranteed new viewers, and content potential.
Plus, the massive server meant opening a new path.

‘And with the toxic Mail Corps covered by the Ppong Swarm…’

Soo-ho instinctively realized it was a win-win offer, then glanced at Ji-han.
Ji-han, however, seemed hesitant, lost in thought.

“Is something bothering you, Ji-han-nim?”

“It just feels like… the winner’s already predetermined. That bothers me.”

It was an honest and kind thought.
Wanting to give everyone a fair chance.
Or maybe he was just too kind for his own good.

Hearing this, Ppongtta laughed pleasantly.

“Ah, so that’s what’s on your mind? You want fairness?”

“Yes. Since I designed this audition content, I need to keep it fair if I want to lead it properly.”

Ppongtta nodded in agreement.

“You’re right. Fairness is important. But don’t worry—I didn’t bribe you or anything.”

He grinned.

“I’ll just tell that friend to prepare thoroughly, that you said you’ll judge as fairly as possible. If they fail, that’s on them.”