Master Swordsman’s Stream - Chapter 64

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 64

Whoosh.
Seo Jun stepped out of the Capsule.
He glanced at the clock pointing to ten o’clock, then left the room to wash up.
“Done?”
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I’m off today. Right—you can’t take breaks for a while, huh?”
“Why?”
“To crack the top sixteen in the Arena, you have to play every day.”
“I can still take breaks.”
“What, you’re saying you’ll play but not stream? I mean, technically you could, but… You’re not seriously planning to take a break on the Arena’s final day and play solo without broadcasting, are you? If you do that, people will call you insane, and your viewers—who’ve been so patient—will start a riot.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll do exactly that and tell your viewers I’m acting on your suggestion.”
“What? Hey, then my stream gets nuked. Once your viewers go haywire, mine will definitely join in—it’s a given.”
Tae Woo, who’d been lying on the living room sofa like a sloth, flipped himself over in an instant.
“Man, that’s taboo among streamers. Taboo.”
“Maybe between streamers, sure. But we’re friends.”
“Why would I be your friend?”
He’d just lost his only friend.
Damn.
He didn’t feel sad about it.
“Then just order us some food.”
Seo Jun spoke to Tae Woo, who was now less a friend and more a household helper, then headed to the bathroom.

* * *

Ten thirty.
The Seo Dong Bu meeting time was approaching—the kind that usually passes without incident.
Before that, Seo Jun checked his broadcast metrics as routine.
Today’s peak concurrent viewers during the live stream was:

[8,791]

Ever since the identity of the Level 10 AI was revealed before, the barrier of 10,000 had never been broken.
That’s how difficult a figure of 10,000 is.
Fixed Viewers:

[5,461]

Fixed Viewers referred to those among Seo Jun’s audience who met certain criteria set by Travble.
Typically, live stream viewership converges toward the Fixed Viewer count, or so it’s said.
In other words, the higher the live stream count rises above the Fixed Viewer count, the more active the inflow and exposure become.
Conversely, if live stream numbers dip significantly below Fixed Viewers, it means fixed viewers are meaningfully dropping out.
For a streamer, that’s a major crisis.
“As for Aituub…”
The Aituub run by the two editors—Seo Jun mostly just checked on it.
“It’s definite.”
The collab video with Alpaca and the video that Movie Soft had linked had recorded the highest view counts of Seo Jun’s uploads.
The combined view count of the two was 800,000.
Considering the channel was less than a month old, it was an extraordinary achievement.
Tae Woo, who’d been watching from behind in his advisor capacity, spoke up.
“The straw’s performance is insane.”
“Yeah, it really is.”
Still, viewers driven in purely by algorithmic recommendation were steadily increasing overall.
Many foreign viewers were staying as regulars too.
The subscriber count they’d built up was:

[50,000]

“Wow, it’s going fast. Real fast.”
The growth curve was steep.
“Seo Jun, you know what?”
“What.”
“They say Capsule game Aitubers are gods.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“Heh. The settlement income will be insane.”
Even just earning editor salaries would be profit.
“50,000 subscribers is insane?”
The current channel analytics for Aituub were plastered with zeros across all metrics, so the estimated revenue was unknowable.
When a channel hasn’t settled once, that happens sometimes, Han Ji Min said.
She’d experienced it herself.
That’s why they hire people with experience.
“Yeah. You don’t think the same ads with the same view count earn the same money for everyone, right?”
“Hm?”
He’d never considered it, but hearing Tae Woo’s point made him realize there was something more to it.
“The Cost Per Mille differs.”
“Right. Why do you look like you just figured it out?”
He knows well.
“Explain it, then.”
“Okay. I don’t know the fine details, so I’ll explain the most important factor affecting Aituub ad rates. That factor is: first, audience demographics; second, audience demographics; and third, audience demographics.”
“I see.”
“For example, a golf channel watched mostly by middle-aged men—those middle-aged males have high purchasing power, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then the rate will be higher. Even if they only get 200,000 views, they’d earn similar revenue to someone else pulling a million.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. There’s also a ranking by category for estimated earnings.”
“There is?”
“It’s just an estimate, but sixth is health. Fifth is beauty. Fourth is real estate. Third is interior design. Second is finance and investment.”
“Wow.”
“And first place is virtual reality gaming.”
“Why’s it so high?”
“What do you think the reason is?”
“Hmm…”
That category must surely be ranked by the purchasing power of its audience.
What matters in advertising is how much viewers actually buy.
To know how much they buy, you need to know what’s being sold to them.
The product sold to viewers watching virtual reality games is games themselves.
And.
“Virtual reality games aren’t that expensive, though, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Grade schoolers can save up and buy them. And some are free at Capsule rooms.”
Capsules themselves carry a heavy price tag for students.
But games—if you enjoy them at a Capsule room, that’s enough.
“Precise.”
“So most viewers are just potential customers?”
“Plus the viewer pool is huge. The largest!”
The reason women and the elderly were drawn into what was originally a male-dominated gaming market was the smartphone.
Thanks to smartphones, the gaming market became an industry with 3 billion customers worldwide—three times the size of the film industry.
But after Capsules arrived, the overall industry revenue grew far, far larger, even if adoption rates fell below smartphones.
It’s because of the fun that mobile games simply can’t match.
Aside from unusual cases like Seo Jun who’d never experienced it before, anyone who’d tried virtual reality on any device had switched over entirely, no question.
“See? That’s why they call it godly. Sure, there are plenty of competitors, but you’ve already hit 50,000.”
“So 50,000 is a much higher number than I thought.”
“Yeah. Breaking out initially is always the hardest part.”
Maybe this is just the beginning.
“Plus, right now your view-to-subscriber ratio is good, so I’d guess you could reach 100,000.”

* * *

After sending Tae Woo off, Seo Jun started the Seo Dong Bu meeting.
The meetings are conducted mainly by text.
The content isn’t substantial. It was mostly just for morale and mutual communication.
But today was different.

[Han Ji Min: Boss, there are two emails that need your attention today.]
[Lee Geon Young: As expected! You’re the real deal, boss!]

Han Ji Min had become the manager.
Manager or not, her work mostly just involved negotiating advertising deals.
After all, she’d been managing Aituub from the start, and Seo Jun didn’t need help with streaming itself.
Miscellaneous tasks Seo Jun handled himself, and worst case, he could just have Tae Woo do them.
“There’s no reason to refuse.”
She claimed to have relevant experience, and the final decision would rest with Seo Jun anyway.
He didn’t have high expectations, but if she showed exceptional negotiation talent, he was prepared to pay her accordingly.

[Seo Jun: Just a moment. I’ll check and get back to you.]
[Han Ji Min: Got it.]

Seo Jun opened the site and entered the ID and password of the official account they’d created for sharing with Han Ji Min, then checked the mailbox.
“Two of them?”
Considering there’d never been any meaningful emails before, it was unexpected.
“This must be it.”
Han Ji Min had already sorted them into the important folder for easy access.
He opened the first email, which began with “Hello, Seo Jun.”

[Hello, Seo Jun. This is Bang Ju, a streamer.]
==
I’m Bang Ju, a streamer currently running a channel with 800,000 subscribers on Aituub.
I once sent you a donation back when you were clearing the Tower Master, and since then I’ve been watching your streams consistently.
The reason I’m sending this email is to ask your permission to feature your story in my main content, “For the Arena.”
“For the Arena” is content that summarizes events happening during the Arena game event and the current state of factional developments, and it sometimes racks up millions of views.
The video content would proceed in this manner—if you like it, please get back to me.
(Community link)
And I’ve already written a post on the community that reached the top ten, so if you’d like it taken down, just let me know.
==

“Ah, so that was the person.”
Bang Ju the streamer.
It was a name he’d heard recently while watching “For the Arena,” but he’d only just remembered.
That person who’d posted about clearing the Tower Master.
He recalled viewers trying to fabricate “Bang Ju’s official account” rumors.
“He’s offering to feature me in million-view content—why would I refuse that?”
Still, to be sure, Seo Jun consulted with those managing Aituub.

[Han Ji Min: You’ll gain far more viewers from that video than you’ll lose to them.]
[Lee Geon Young: A third straw! Nice!]

No objections, it seemed.
Now the second email was the issue.
“They ask like this normally?”
Seo Jun stared at the email with a puzzled expression.

[To Streamer Seo Jun.]
==
Hello.
We are a small indie game developer, MONSTER.
MONSTER will be releasing an action-adventure game soon.
The first chapter for advertising is horror-themed.
So we’re looking for a streamer to advertise on release day, and I was wondering—are you good at horror games as a streamer?
==

Even if there’s plenty of time before the release date, don’t they usually just decide and run ads themselves without asking something like this?
Seo Jun first asked the experienced one about that point.

[Han Ji Min: The streaming market has grown, and distribution platforms are offering more ad budgets, so there are a lot more indie developers now.]
[Han Ji Min: But most indie devs are just developers, you know? There’s no marketing or PR team. So they tend to ask directly about what they need.]

He understood.
That’s actually more convenient.

[Lee Geon Young: So boss, are you good at horror games?]
[Seo Jun: I’ve hardly ever felt fear.]

Back then.
When Cheon Ma actually called him a close friend, he’d felt something like fear for a moment.
When else had he felt it?

[Lee Geon Young: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Yeah, I figured]
[Lee Geon Young: I can’t really imagine you getting scared and chickening out]
[Han Ji Min: For sure, boss definitely seems like the type who’d punch a ghost]
[Seo Jun: ……]
[Han Ji Min: Anyway, then.]
[Han Ji Min: I’ll send a reply saying you’re good at it!]
[Seo Jun: Got it]

Seo Jun felt like he was missing something, but he let it slide.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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