Chapter 2: Motivation (2)

Part 3

A week had passed since I returned home.
Surprisingly, nothing happened during that week.
Naturally, I had no intention of wandering around in this state, so taking any proactive steps was off the table.
I was told that acquaintances, aside from hospital staff and family, were informed I was “hospitalized and unable to receive visitors,” so no one came by the house.
My parents and older brother were busy with work, as always.

– I’m telling you, this is entirely a matter of jungle’s choice! Don’t you know the diagonal rule?

The only one at home was my younger brother, whose voice leaked through the soundproof walls, loud enough to be heard.
He was a fairly successful streamer, contributing significantly to the household, but his sole excuse of “not being confident enough to live alone” meant he hadn’t even tried moving out since returning from the military.
Every day, he caused a ruckus with his loud voice—an immature guy I couldn’t bring myself to cheer for, no matter how innocently he acted.

– Hahaha! Someone who knows their stuff! Thanks for the 10,000-won donation!

His anti-human lifestyle cycle—waking up, streaming, eating during the stream, sleeping after the stream, waking up again—meant we barely had any real conversations.
Sure, his constant noise might be a nuisance to our parents, but that wasn’t the main issue.
The real problem was that he knew I was drowning in boredom and still avoided talking to me, as if dodging me on purpose.

– Oh my gosh! DoubleEyeBoomBoomBaRaBa nim! 50,000 won!

I get that he’s working.
I don’t know much about internet streaming or how much money it brings in, but I know it’s not a trivial amount.
I also know he’s contributing more to our parents than I am, with my weekend-only part-time job while preparing for my master’s program.
But still, after your sibling was in a coma for two weeks and finally woke up, isn’t it normal to at least offer a warm word of comfort?

Grumbling to myself, I unconsciously headed toward the sink.
With my older brother busy with his job, my parents coming home late from work, and my immature younger brother, dishwashing had been my responsibility since I was in middle school, when my much older brother started juggling part-time jobs and studies as an adult.
I recalled how, right after returning home from the hospital, I’d gotten annoyed seeing the pile of dirty dishes, muttering about the risk of food poisoning.

“That guy, is streaming really so time-consuming? He eats every meal I prepare but can’t even do the dishes…”

I turned on the faucet.
It was early morning, but seeing the dried rice grains and sauce stuck to the dishes, I could easily guess these were from my brother, Sanghyeon, from the middle of the night.
Then, a sudden, impulsive thought flashed through my mind.

“…With an excuse like this, I could barge into his room, right?”

He hated anyone entering his room during a stream, but since our parents and brother insisted he not lock the door, it was rarely locked, even during broadcasts.
Even if he was streaming something sensitive—usually stuff too embarrassing to show others—he’d reluctantly open the door if you announced you had a reason.

“I’ll pretend I’m picking up the dishes and try talking to him.”

His stream would end soon.
He’d sleep until late afternoon, and he wouldn’t start another stream until around 6 p.m. at the earliest.
The thought of killing time aimlessly until then stung a bit, but still…

“…Could be fun?”

Hmm. I wasn’t entirely sure about the outcome.

Part 4

“Hello, everyone! Cheungjeokun here. How’s the daily life of all you folks joining me right at the start of this weekday evening stream?”

– Go wash your face.

– What’d you eat today?

– Why do you keep starting streams without washing up lately?

“Jeez, can’t a guy have an off day? Should I put a sign on the screen saying I couldn’t wash up due to circumstances?

I do wash before bed, okay? I’m clean, everyone!”
Pointless banter continued for a bit.
Questions about what those “circumstances” were popped up frequently, but Cheungjeokun—Sanghyeon—had long decided not to respond to them.

And for good reason—he wasn’t about to explain the complicated, delicate situation of only sneaking off to wash when his older sibling, now a sister, was asleep to avoid her noticing.

“For that reason, tonight’s dinner is—”

Sanghyeon’s streams mainly focused on gaming, but he always started with a mukbang due to his disastrous lifestyle.
The casual chat time before diving into the main content had become a regular segment since it got good reactions.
He didn’t eat much, but his tasty eating style was a hit, turning it into a fixed part of his streams.

Glancing at the rapidly scrolling chat, he moved the tray he’d prepared to show on the camera.
He’d bought a larger desk just for this, so even with the monitor, it didn’t feel cramped.

“Today, Mom made kimchi jjigae with tons of pork and egg rolls, so tonight’s mukbang is a home-cooked meal concept.
Wow—clap for Mom! What? Fire-attribute filial son? Managers, ban anyone making unfilial jokes.
What, banning them would cut the audience in half? That’s a joke too, right…?”

The chat surged with flame emojis and laughter.
Chuckling, he picked up his chopsticks, responding to silly jokes while mentally planning the game and stream progression.

Everything was going smoothly.
It looked like he’d wrap up the stream without a hitch, as usual.
That’s what Sanghyeon was thinking.

“Let me just put away the dishes—”

– Sanghyeon! Can I come in?

Sanghyeon froze mid-motion as he started to get up from his chair.
A whole week of nothing happening, and now what’s this all of a sudden?

– ?????

– Whose voice is that?

– That voice is so pretty…

– Didn’t Cheungjeokun say he only has brothers?

“…Hold on, why, Sis?!”

He stumbled over what to call her, hesitating before settling on the unfamiliar term, pressured by the audience watching.
On the other side of the door, Yoonseo, his older sibling, seemed equally flustered by the title, and an awkward silence hung between them.

“You’re not doing some weird, inappropriate stream, are you…?”

“Ugh, you make it sound like that’s all I do! What do you want?”

He knew he’d have to address this issue eventually, but Sanghyeon still felt awkward around Yoonseo.
The image of his sibling lying lifeless, the changing appearance every time he visited out of worry, repeating to himself, “This is still my sibling.”
It wasn’t like he saw her as a complete stranger, but there was an undeniable distance, like meeting a far-off relative.

“I figured since my little brother’s working so hard to earn money, I’d grab the dishes for you…”

As Yoonseo opened the door and stepped in, the chat went wild.
Questions about whether he had a sister, compliments about her being a perfect housewife, praise for her voice.
What’s with the “I’m dying just hearing her voice” nonsense?
Sanghyeon’s mind raced.

She might seem fine on the outside, but the doctor had repeatedly stressed that Yoonseo needed psychological stability.
She hadn’t yet fully processed her sudden gender change, and it hadn’t hit her hard yet, but forcing her to confront it abruptly could harm her mental health.
Exposing her to weirdly obsessive comments about her voice or health wouldn’t lead to anything good.

That wasn’t all.
As an experienced streamer, Sanghyeon knew his audience wouldn’t back off just because he told them to.
What if they started showing intense interest in Yoonseo?
What if they demanded information about her?
It could derail the entire stream, ruining his planned content.

“What are you staring at so intently?”

“Sis, wait—hold on!!!”

Lost in thought, staring at the monitor, Sanghyeon jumped as Yoonseo’s voice came from right beside him.
He quickly glanced at the camera feed, the chat, then back at her.
The camera, set at sitting height, captured Yoonseo’s figure—wearing a functional shirt and knee-length shorts—cropped just below her chest.
The chat exploded with comments like “That waist! She’s gotta be a beauty!” and “Please, give us your sister!”

“Huh? What? What’s wrong?”

Yoonseo, suddenly curious about the stream, started leaning toward the screen.
Sanghyeon barely managed to stop her from bending down, breathing heavily.

“Sis, okay? This part, right here, is what shows on the camera.”

“Uh… okay?”

“So don’t lean into this area. Don’t even stand behind here.”

“…Why are you getting mad? Is my face too embarrassing to show on your stream or something?”

“Yeah! Exactly! So take these dishes and get out, please!!!”

Trying to stop Yoonseo from leaning in, he had no time to manage the chat or the stream.
A brief struggle ensued.
Back when their strength was similar, it might’ve been a fair fight, but not now.
Naturally, Sanghyeon won the tussle.

“Phew… Sorry about that, folks. Now, let’s—”

Wiping cold sweat, he reflexively grabbed the mouse.
The chat was entirely about his sister.
No donations, of course…

– Show us your sister’s face for 100,000 won.

“Thanks for the 10,000-won donation, BaekSooRooBbiBong nim… No way. I absolutely can’t show her.”

A sudden donation.
A careless response.
A flood of question marks.
He realized his mistake too late.
Saying he absolutely couldn’t show her implied there was a reason why.
He shouldn’t have given them any room for curiosity.
Cold sweat started forming again.

– Why can’t you show her?

– Is she insanely pretty or what?

– I’m losing it! Losing it! Losing it!

Curiosity was bait, and the surging chat was like a school of fish swarming in.
This was bad.
Even freezing the chat wouldn’t help unless he gave a convincing answer.
If he couldn’t defuse this, the whole day’s stream could be ruined.

A quick thought.
An answer that would satisfy them while giving a reason to keep Yoonseo’s face off the stream in the future…

“Alright, I’ll tell you. My sister is f*cking gorgeous. Like, she could be a celebrity. Happy now?”

Watching the wave of question marks intensify, Sanghyeon paused as if hesitating, organizing his thoughts.
Would this work?
Maybe not?
He wouldn’t know until he tried, but he’d learned that appealing to emotions often worked well with this crowd.

“You probably saw, but she’s got a great figure, a sweet personality, and even I, her brother, think she’s beautiful.
But, guys, when someone’s that kind and amazing, don’t they sometimes… you know, have some struggles?”

He kept it vague, avoiding unnecessary lies.
The chat’s fervor slowed slightly.
He could almost see them imagining the unfortunate episodes a kind, naive person might face in school or thereabouts.

“Anyway, she was living alone for personal reasons.”

Not a lie—she was hospitalized.

“But recently, we started living together again.”

Not a lie—she just got discharged.

“She acts all casual, like she’s fine, but… you know, it’s a bit sensitive, right? You get me?”

Not a lie—the doctor said to be cautious about this.

“So, her face will never appear on stream. End of story!”

The chat soon turned into a sea of sentimental tears.
From fire to water, huh?
Keeping up with these mood swings was exhausting.
Sanghyeon held back a laugh as he thought this.

– Still! I! Want to see that lovely waistline again!

– Can’t she just come back and let us hear her voice? Chatting with our gentle viewers could help her mental health, no?

– 100,000 won if she shows up on screen again.

“Jeez, you guys…”

A flurry of donations followed.
In that moment, Sanghyeon’s mind shifted from brother to streamer Cheungjeokun.
This could make money.
If he played it just right, this could make money.

“…Thanks for the 30,000-won donations, SamTtoogi nim, DoubleEyeBoomBoomBaRaBa nim, and WhiteHeartBaekGu nim.”