I Became a Malicious Streamer

It’s just another day like any other.

Today, it’s a moderately lazy afternoon as I start preparing for my broadcast.

However, today’s broadcast holds just a pinch of specialness.

I plan to select about two managers who will publicly manage my chat room during the broadcast.

They are applying for an unpaid position that seems suspiciously high in interest.

If there’s any reward, I suppose it’s the opportunity to communicate with me, albeit publicly. Since they can’t wield absolute power in the chat room, that’s really all the reward they get.

Originally, Si-young held this position. She was heavily involved not only in editing my YouTube content but also managing the chat room.

But that was never going to last. It was an inherently flawed structure. If I’m broadcasting, when in the world is she supposed to edit? A human being has only so much bandwidth.

It might work if I just played the broadcast like a radio show, but managing the chat while editing is nearly impossible.

No matter how great someone’s multitasking skills are, some things are just physically unmanageable.

It was already strange that she was trying to juggle both, yet it was a result of Si-young’s stubbornness. She didn’t want to give up either. To me, it seemed more like obsession than anything else, but everyone has their quirks, right? It wasn’t hard to understand.

But why suddenly look for a chat manager? I couldn’t ignore the dark circles under Si-young’s eyes as she kept sinking lower. The rich smell of coffee permeating the house underscored that she was pushing herself too hard.

“It’s really fine, you know.”

“I’m not fine. I’m not.”

“I only watch Mollru’s streams anyway, even if I have spare time…”

“Then take it easy and relax while watching the broadcast. Watching while being stressed is different from chilling out.”

Si-young insisted she could manage both editing and chat room supervision, but I firmly rejected her idea. Now, my broadcasts on both YouTube and live are way larger than before. To put it metaphorically, it’s grown from a small corner shop to a department store level.

But even though we’re short-staffed, we still have just one manager? That’s ludicrous!

Besides, that manager was a founding member. I may give her good treatment, but it feels wrong to overwork her like this.

If my precious human resource suddenly collapses and bleeds out, not only would I be unable to focus on my broadcast, but my entire YouTube channel could go into paralysis.

Looking at it this way, my previous negligence stands out like a sore thumb. At least I’ve realized it now, right?

“Can I also be considered when you’re picking people?”

“Of course.”

I had been meaning to ask for help anyway.

Managing a chat room may sound trivial, but we’re talking about controlling nearly 20,000 to 30,000 people. If the work isn’t done smoothly, gossip is bound to follow.

I needed Si-young’s handover, who’d been doing this perfectly, so that nobody would unjustly get banned or have a great time not getting banned while others do.

Yet, Si-young took it a step further.

“Why not do it as content? Call it a broadcast where we hire chat managers.”

“Are you suggesting we show the process of picking people on the stream?”

“There’s bound to be an overwhelming number of applicants… It would also provide great editing source material if you chat with them in an interview-like manner.”

In other words, just like a company interview. “Why do you want to join our company?” or something.

Si-young nodded and continued.

“We could also do a Mollru mock test. Conduct the interviews after they review it.”

“What’s this Mollru mock test?”

“It’s a test to assess basic knowledge about you, Mollru. It’s been trending on the cafe. By the way, I scored full marks.”

Seeing her expect a compliment, I awkwardly replied.

“Uh… that’s impressive.”

“The problem is, I’ll be creating new questions for the test. Since I think the difficulty is a bit too easy, I’ll raise it to the point where applicants scoring below a certain score will be immediately eliminated.”

“That’s practically an automatic disqualification…”

A familiar structure of passing the first test, followed by an interview, and then a notification of acceptance.

It didn’t just seem like a company; it truly felt like a job interview. Would anyone even apply after going through such a cumbersome process?

“I thought the issue would be getting too many applicants,” I said.

Si-young chuckled softly as if she could read my mind. Well, if she says so, maybe she’s right.

*

‘Mollru is live!’

– Looking for people. A family-like atmosphere / Let’s go! / Passion Pay

“Nice to meet you all. I assume you’ve all seen the announcement?”

[You said you’re hiring a manager, right?]

[I saw the test questions posted below, haha!]

[Mollru mock test ver.2 lol]

[Why is the mock test so hard?]

[I found it easy.]

[Is that really easy?]

[Seriously, only the hardcore Molbug would get that right.]

[That’s the standard for a manager, haha!]

[Eligibility: A Molbug who’s devoted their life!]

Yesterday, I posted an announcement along with the questions created by Si-young.

She set the passing mark for the mock test at 60%. There are a total of 60 questions, and since the scoring doesn’t vary, applicants need to correctly answer at least 36 questions to pass.

It’s fascinating to think that you could even create 60 questions related to me and my broadcasts, yet at a glance, the conditions seem relatively manageable.

However, the nature of the questions was quite serious.

Starting from my very first broadcast, what foods I mentioned I liked, along with numerous trivial details that a person who has watched enough of my broadcasts might remember.

Those who claim it’s easy or Si-young dropping such tests are undoubtedly people who are very invested in my broadcasts— which means there’s likely no one suitably qualified.

I linked up with Si-young on Discord and decided to hold interviews with those who passed the mock test.

We had a total of 10 interviewees to be processed, organized in order by Si-young.

“Let’s bring in the first applicant.”

“Okay.”

[Why is this so formal? haha!]

[It’s almost like an interview.]

[PTSD from the editor’s voice is hitting me.]

[Unemployed Molbug wouldn’t know about this.]

[So managing the chat is also quite a task.]

Si-young’s monotonous voice really did give off the vibe of a human resources officer.

As she stated the interview was starting, someone entered Discord.

I casually took out the list Si-young gave me. Let’s see… so this person is.

“Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun?”

“Yes, yes!”

The nickname of Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun. I think I’ve seen this name before. Has he been a long-time viewer?

[How come the person’s name is Kim Myung-jun, haha!]

[Myung-jun’s the man… lol]

[An actual jobseeker just stepped in;;]

[What’s a jobseeker doing watching broadcasts?]

[He can watch the broadcast, but it means he gave up on being a manager…]

[Mom believes in our Myung-jun ^^]

“Are you really a jobseeker?”

I was surprised that he had achieved over 60 points on the mock test in the first place. Just how much has he watched my broadcasts?

Kim Myung-jun cleared his throat, then stated seriously:

“I got a job recently. I even donated 50,000 won to celebrate my employment-.”

“Oh, right! You did get a job. But is it possible to watch your broadcast while working?”

It was a pure inquiry. My broadcasts usually run late into the night but even then, can a consistently employed person stay up to watch them?

“On weekdays it might be quite rare, but for my regular broadcast time, from evening to dawn, I’m able to cover that.”

“Even on days you have work the next morning?”

“I’m genetically predisposed to need little sleep… I only sleep about four hours.”

[Napoleon’s sleep method, whoa!]

[Lol, four hours?!]

[Gee, I want to fall asleep if it goes past 3am.]

[Didn’t Edison sleep like that?]

[Isn’t sleeping just four hours risking one’s health?]

[Everyone’s different… and if he’s been doing that for a while, it’s not an issue, right?]

He claims he’s able to do it, but I’m skeptical. With his role needing to be virtually glued to my broadcasts, I thought for sure I’d prioritize those night owls.

“I can really do it well. I’ve kept up with everything on your broadcast. The mock test wasn’t too bad for me.”

“Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun managed to answer 51 out of 60 questions correctly, achieving a score of 85.”

“Wow…”

It seems this isn’t just talk; he really does appear to have a solid understanding of my broadcasts. Whether that understanding means anything remains to be seen.

However, as this is only the first interview, I can’t make a decision right now. Let’s keep him in mind for later.

“Alright, I understand… lastly, let’s examine your chat history.”

“Ah.”

“Weird chats weren’t posted, right?”

“I don’t often chat, but I can’t really remember what I typed. I think I used a lot of ‘haha’ or emoticons.”

That’s usually the case. There are times when people just watch quietly without typing.

But you never know until you check. If anything strange pops up, it could very well be a disqualifier.

Scrolling through his chat logs, starting from the most recent:

[13:45 Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun: lol for real]

[20:33 Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun: lol lol lol]

[00:11 Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun: (shocked face emoticon)]

Just like he said, there was nothing problematic about his chats. Even checking upwards from his most recent, it was just a variety of laughing or emoticons.

His lack of frequent chatting also adds points. Once appointed as a manager, he’ll inevitably attract attention, so it’s better to hold back on the chatting unless there’s a special circumstance.

Nodding in agreement while about to close his chat logs, I stumbled upon the following:

[17:03 Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun: so cool]

[17:04 Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun: super cool]

[17:11 Jobseeker Kim Myung-jun: wow so cool]

A person who usually types chat only once a day had posted “so cool” repeatedly that day for reasons known only to him.

What could have happened last autumn that made him feel such excitement?

“Kim Myung-jun? Are you watching my broadcasts?”

“Yes…”

His voice trembles slightly. It seems he thought I might call him out on this.

“You suddenly increased your chat usage on September 11th last year… using ‘so cool’ and such. Are you experiencing incontinence? Why’d you keep saying that?”

[Myung-jun, my buddy…]

[Youngster already…]

[What happened that day?]

“Um… well…”

Kim Myung-jun stumbles over his words. A person who doesn’t chat much wouldn’t repeatedly post “so cool” without some excitement.

Just as I was beginning to feel the frustration of his stammering, Si-young opened her mouth.

“That day was the day you, Mollru, did your first cam broadcast, where you revealed your face.”

“Ohhh…”

[That makes sense.]

[Haha, I can relate to that!]

[For that live broadcast, that level of reaction is pretty normal, haha!]

[For real, lol.]

Considering the reaction in the chat, it seems many understood. In fact, some were even defending him.

So, that was it. Kim Myung-jun was blown away by my face. Was that so special? I’m not sure.

But since he wasn’t spouting any foul language, maybe I can let it slide.

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