Chapter 59..
What kind of treatment would a hikikomori receive in this era?
It was the same before—someone who shut themselves in at home was usually treated as a person who couldn’t even pull their own weight.
In other words, they were treated as less than human.
Of course, there may have been people who still received respect while living as hikikomori, but at least this person wasn’t one of them.
Baek Sua.
23 years old, female, high school graduate.
Her life was far from bright.
People would say, “Who even gets bullied these days?”—a line she hated the most.
She had heard it so much that it ruined her entire third year of high school.
And what about the second thing she hated the most?
If she were asked, Baek Sua would probably pick: “The one being bullied must’ve done something wrong—that’s why they’re bullied.”
What reason could there possibly be for bullying?
She simply spoke less than others and didn’t share the same hobbies her classmates did.
When others were filming TikToks, gossiping about dramas, or talking about idols—
She was immersed in livestreams and webnovels.
Male streamers, female streamers—it didn’t matter.
If it was her taste, she consumed everything.
She saved up the allowance her parents gave her to send donations, filling her craving for recognition, and she was comforted by the empathy of those streamers.
She believed she was living a fairly ordinary life.
But she was bullied.
She was invisible—completely erased among her peers.
She wasn’t rough around the edges; in fact, she was often described as “so nice it’s easy to take advantage of her.”
Why? Why me? Why am I the one being bullied?
Every time she asked herself, there was no answer.
Even she didn’t know why.
And each time, she buried herself deeper into streams and webnovels, sinking further.
The fact that she managed to survive high school without dying was something worth praise in itself.
But her parents only sighed when they saw her.
She was the family’s “sick finger.”
One that had withered, hidden away in the lowest place, not respected even in her own home.
“Just some playful teasing between kids.”
“Who gets bullied these days?”
“You’re just weak.”
Those words didn’t come from strangers, but from the mouths of the people who were supposed to understand her the most—her parents.
So she shut herself even deeper into her room.
She didn’t take a single step outside. At twenty, her parents tried to drag her out somehow.
But already wounded, she had closed her heart.
Her parents eventually gave up on her, and Baek Sua could finally disappear into her own safe kingdom, without interference.
That was her way of surviving.
At least, that’s what she firmly believed.
Of course, the moment her parents gave up, she had to survive on her own.
But that was still better than being bullied, ignored, and disrespected.
So she searched for things she could do, learning whatever she could get her hands on.
Video editing.
Yes—that became her lifeline.
With free programs, free assets, and brute effort, she painstakingly carved out skills.
She carefully picked fonts from free libraries, collected meme clips from the gray areas of copyright, and learned to stitch them together.
At first, she barely scraped by, taking on small editing jobs.
Most of the time, though, she went hungry.
Hungry enough that once, she chewed on dried seaweed instead of rice until it swelled in her stomach and made her vomit everything.
It was brutal—and the more brutal it was, the more she immersed herself in work.
In her spare time, she watched other streamers’ lives and YouTube videos to stay updated with trends, studying new techniques with burning focus.
Instead of reading a cheap 100-won webnovel episode, she saved up to buy professional programs, working hard to learn them.
Despite the effort, she enjoyed it.
And now, at twenty-three, Baek Sua had built a stable nest—her safest kingdom—where she could do what she loved most.
A freelance YouTube editor.
Sure, if jobs stopped coming in she wouldn’t earn a dime, but she had savings.
She had managed to build a stable environment.
In that stability, she lived quiet, happy days.
Until she discovered someone called Lee Ji-han.
After clearing all her looming deadlines,
In her darkened rented room, curtains drawn,
She sat at her computer with a tired face.
She already vaguely knew of him—from clips and mentions in other streamers’ chats.
“A newcomer? Wow, he’s really handsome.”
But what made her truly fall for him was:
“…Ah, he’s beautiful.”
The “Zombress halo incident.”
—Leap!
—Spin!
A perfect jump, followed by graceful motion.
Ji-han’s twisting body rotated again and again midair before landing flawlessly.
Only a few seconds long.
But in those few seconds, all focus was on him.
His black hair fluttering, his long lashes lowering,
The sharp bridge of his nose, his lips curving gently upward.
If she were Pygmalion, she would have given this Galatea her very heart and soul.
That’s how perfect his appearance was.
“…Wait, how did I even see all that? It was so dark.”
Tap, tap, tap!
She replayed the clip over and over.
No editing, no effects—just a raw clip.
“…Crazy.”
That was how she met her muse for the first time.
A muse carved by the hands of a god.
At first, yes, it was only because of his face.
No denying that.
Shallow? Maybe. But in the streaming industry, looks and voice are weapons too.
…But the more she watched, the more she was pulled in by his innocence and focus.
A being far removed from the mundane world.
A fairy? Well, comparing a grown man to a fairy was a little ridiculous.
“…Maybe I should make a video.”
But she was a freelancer.
Doing unpaid work would destroy her stable life.
So she held back, cheering for him silently instead.
“…Ah…”
But that resolve didn’t last.
The moment Lee Ji-han met the game Gangho Sword Chronicle—
Her resolve shattered into pieces.
[“O, Heavenly Demon!”]
Ji-han’s stream had a viewer called Cheonma Parrot.
No one knew who they were, but they always called him Heavenly Demon in a strange tone.
Sua, being a fan of martial arts novels, only found it funny.
“I won’t act like such an obvious otaku.”
So she quietly watched.
Until Ji-han finished customizing his character and stepped into the martial world.
“…O, Heavenly Demon!”
She realized then—she too had become a follower of the Heavenly Demon Cult.
The appearance of the Heavenly Demon in Gangho Sword Chronicle.
And the saintly image from Zombress.
Both fascinated her, but the custom build—dangerous, decadent, violent—
When it unleashed its overwhelming power,
Her world, once caged in gloom, shattered like a broken birdcage.
Back when she was bullied,
She had dreamed of someone who would strike down her tormentors and save her.
Watching Heavenly Demon Ji-han, she felt that same liberation.
“…I have to make this. I have to make a video.”
So she began.
Of course, only after clearing her piled-up deadlines first.
“This one… I’ll make especially special.”
So Ji-han could shine brighter.
So she could show others the Ji-han she saw.
For the first time in a long time, she gave in to obsession.
She edited like mad.
Unpaid, uncompensated. A laughable thing for a professional editor to do.
But that’s what fan videos are.
“…Even without reward, it’s fine.”
That was what it meant to be a fan.
Who could understand such a feeling?
Even if no one did, it was fine.
Her three years of high school were spent in loneliness.
No one understood her then.
And even now, though her career was respected, she still lived hiding herself.
Loneliness and isolation were familiar—they had become her weapon.
So she worked feverishly, gathering Ji-han’s clips, pouring them into a tribute video.
Her resolve wavered once—
The day Fiesta released the official trailer, which overlapped with her concept.
But she finished it anyway.
Like a blacksmith pouring their life into forging a cursed blade,
She poured all her feelings into that work.
She uploaded it on her personal channel, where she had never posted before, with a note: “Not monetized.”
From that moment, the video was no longer hers.
Would it reach Ji-han? Maybe, maybe not.
But all she wanted was for someone to understand her world, and the Ji-han she saw.
And then, she collapsed into bed, dead-tired, hoping to finally catch some sleep.
“Ah, uh, um…”
There was a pitiful creature in a café who had lost the ability to speak human words.
Her real name was Baek Sua.
Now she was just baeksu—a “beast.”
“Th-th-that…”
She never expected to be rewarded.
Fan videos often annoyed streamers; some even asked for them to be taken down.
All she prayed for was not to hear: “Please delete the video.”
“Hello, I really enjoyed your video. Sua-nim, I actually have a favor to ask…”
But instead, she received the greatest gift of all.
A reward.
“…We’re actually looking for an editor. We’d like to match your rate as best we can, and we’ll give you plenty of time for deadlines.”
Without warning, at full speed,
Opportunity had flown right into her lap.
Baek Sua, 23 years old.
Today was the day she died—
And the day she was reborn.
Happy birthday, Sua.
The successful otaku celebrated her second birthday,
And could only nod like crazy.
