Chapter 3 : Reunited with Her

Jutak is a god, and I’m unemployed.

Is that what this series is?

I was dumbfounded, but I decided to accept the current situation for now.

My greatest strength?

The adaptability that rivals that of a cockroach kicked in.

Thump!

“Ahem.”

It wasn’t because of the strangely addictive and oddly moving sensation that kept pulling at me like a drug.

Seriously — she’s a beauty, stunning enough to steal my gaze before I even realized it, with a killer figure to boot.

“…This isn’t the time to be doing this.”

It didn’t just end with my gender changing.

The most urgent matter was confirming whether my identity was intact.

I rushed to the computer and tried checking the personal info I had used when I was male.

“This… isn’t working.”

Trying to use my old personal information returned a message saying the user didn’t exist.

Online banking, frequently used websites, etc.

Don’t tell me I’ve become an illegal resident right after returning?

I panicked for a moment, but luckily, after searching the house thoroughly, I found a wallet and bankbook in a desk drawer.

Inside the wallet was a resident registration card.

A photo of a beautiful woman staring blankly ahead.

Below it was the pretty name: “Seo Mina.”

“My age is… three years younger.”

Before the regression, I was 29.

So, having gone back three years, I should now be 26.

That is, if I were still the male “Seo Min-jun.”

But according to the date of birth, Seo Mina was 23.

Wow! 23 years old.

I’d been sighing heavily, dreading turning 30 in a few months.

The fact that I got younger lifted my mood a bit.

“What’s this?”

That boost of happiness continued until I checked the bank account.

The balance: 30 million won (about $22,000).

It wasn’t much compared to my assets at 29, but considering that “Seo Mina” was only 23, it felt like a balancing patch between the god-like Jutak’s assets and my younger age.

“There’s so much to figure out.”

Checking the bank account wasn’t the end.

Luckily, there was a local district office nearby, so I went there and printed several documents using a kiosk.

Looking at the family relations certificate, I saw that Seo Mina was an orphan.

A setup for convenience, maybe?

I also checked the numbers saved on the phone. Surprisingly, her social connections were incredibly clean — the only saved number was labeled “landlord.”

I cautiously called and confirmed the rental contract.

A 10-pyeong (about 330 sq ft) studio apartment, with a 5 million won deposit and 400,000 won monthly rent.

The joy of being younger instantly plopped to the floor.

Reality was still cold.

Unlike when I was a man, being the unemployed Seo Mina made that 400,000 won monthly rent feel very heavy.

But I soon snapped out of that pressure.

‘Come to think of it, I’m a regressor.’

My mind started running optimistic scenarios.

Being a regressor means having the advantage of “information.”

Knowledge of the future, unknown to others.

Isn’t it natural to imagine succeeding and soaring to the top using that knowledge?

As someone who’d read genre fiction before streaming became a thing, I’d seen it all.

‘So now it’s my turn? Can I flip my life in one shot?’

Who cares about Jutak’s final message or whatever?

Success is right in front of me.

Excited, I turned on the computer and opened Notepad.

Then I began typing out all the jackpot-worthy future knowledge I could remember.

With this, I too could live like a protagonist in a novel, bragging and thriving.

Crypto, stocks, lotto — anything works.

If I can hit it big and become a landlord more powerful than even a creator god?!

“Hmm?”

…Or so I thought.

I had been eagerly typing into the Notepad when I suddenly realized something was off.

Crypto? Sadly, it was already too late.

It had peaked and was now plummeting.

Lotto? I’d never really been interested, so I’d only bought tickets a handful of times.

Of course, I didn’t remember any winning numbers.

Stocks? The only ones I vaguely remembered were Pangaea TV and Samsung Electronics.

Some guys on a stock forum I used to visit would always whine about those two.

That’s how I learned about them, but the problem was, neither would make me rich enough to become a building owner.

‘Well… Pangaea TV does double later on, but…’

If I invested all my money now and held on for over a year, I’d have maybe 60 million won?

That dream of becoming a landlord burst like a bubble.

“…Have I wasted my life?”

Looking over my Notepad, I realized over 80% of it was about internet broadcasting.

There was hardly any decent investment info.

I let out a deep sigh without realizing.

‘Damn. So unless it’s internet streaming, I’m screwed?’

Was internet streaming really the only way to leverage my regression powers?

If I’d known this, I should’ve paid more attention to financial stuff.

Too late for regrets now.

A short sigh followed.

I forced myself to adopt a positive mindset again.

Sure, it’s not easy money like crypto or lotto, but the life of a successful streamer isn’t bad either.

There were plenty of streamers earning monthly incomes equivalent to a corporate annual salary, after all.

It wasn’t just a simple estimate.

In the case of Pangaea TV, there’s a site called the “Candy Calculator,” which—though not 100% accurate—displays streamers’ incomes with over 90% accuracy.

If you could succeed based on knowledge of the future, that meant you could make those high earnings your own!

And considering the drunken bet made with Jutak, becoming a virtual streamer was inevitable.

“From the end of 2022 to 2023, it was pure madness. There were even multiple virtual streamers who received more than 3.5 million candies in a year.”

Even after platform fees and taxes, that still meant a minimum income of over 200 million won.

Plus, if you include other income sources like advertisements and the subscription system besides candy, the amount increases even more.

“Streamer. Maybe it’s not as bad as I thought?”

If you steadily earn money without wasting it and keep collecting Pangaea TV stocks, you could make at least double the profit.

You might not become a land baron, but achieving the dream of owning a house seems possible.

But such success would require thorough preparation.

No matter how much you know about the future, variables exist, and most importantly, if you lack broadcasting skills, it’s all for nothing.

“There are plenty of people who put in the effort, right? But without opportunity, internet broadcasting buries you so deep you can’t even breathe.”

Working hard is the baseline; you also need talent, and luck must be on your side.

This isn’t just about internet broadcasting—surviving in any red ocean market isn’t easy.

“It’s August now, so two months left? If I prepare diligently, maybe I can make it in time?”

Pangaea TV may look like any other time, but a major event was coming in just two months.

The perfect opportunity for the Royal Road!

How much did Lucy regret missing that chance before the regression?

If only she’d had a bit more courage and transferred a few months earlier, the results could’ve been so much better.

Thinking of Lucy made my chest feel tight for a moment.

A streamer I supported passionately for three years, always wishing for her success.

But I still can’t understand.

Why did Lucy choose to quit streaming?

She wasn’t top-tier, but she had a decent fanbase and earned more than the average office worker.

I recall the rumors that floated around right before and after Lucy’s departure.

There were wild stories—everything from being involved in real-life crimes, to being stalked and blackmailed.

Others said her family was against it, or she quit because her real life was going well.

Some said she was deep in debt or had conflicts with other crew members.

But all that buzz disappeared within a week.

Yeah, Lucy was just that level of streamer.

Always struggling to keep viewer numbers in the triple digits.

Even that was thanks to crew collabs—if judged solely on her own, she had maybe 40 to 50 regulars?

A boring, one-trick-pony singer streamer.

Her mental endurance wasn’t great either, and she lacked social skills, making it hard for her to shine in collaborations or large-scale content.

To be brutally honest, she wasn’t the type of streamer worth staking everything on.

I only got attached because her voice in the first stream I watched was exactly my type. I was completely smitten.

Damn girl.

Foolish girl.

Stupid girl.

She frustrated me, but I could never truly hate her.

Three long years.

I really supported her with passion.

It’s funny—

Even a blood-related sibling wouldn’t occupy this much of my thoughts.

Though I felt betrayed and hurt by her quitting, I didn’t want to let Lucy go just like that.

There was the prideful bet with Ju-ddak, and more importantly, I wanted to know the truth behind her sudden departure.

“It’s been a while.”

Rabbit TV.

The platform Lucy streamed on before she moved.

Together with Pangaea TV, it made up one of the two pillars of Korea’s internet streaming scene.

But I know the future of this massive empire.

“A sandcastle that will collapse in two years.”

A mass exodus will happen.

Streamers who transfer even a little earlier during that shift will enjoy an unimaginable first-mover advantage.

At this point, Pangaea TV is a complete blue ocean for virtual streamers.

“Wow, it’s been so long since I saw this homepage.”

Feeling a bit unfamiliar after three years, I scanned the site’s UI and searched for the name “Lucy.”

Thankfully, she was currently live.

With a strange fluttering in my chest, I entered the stream.

For now, it was what they call a “Dullahan” stream—just a static illustrated background displayed on screen.

But as I listened closely, I could hear that long-missed voice through the faint background rustling.

“Hello, Seominjun. I don’t recognize the username, but nice to meet you.”

I thought I’d never hear it again after her channel disappeared.

A warm voice that comforted the weary.

My heart started to pound without me even realizing it.

That day three years ago when I first saw Lucy’s stream.

They say humans live on memories.

Fragments of countless memories played before my eyes like a panorama.

Yeah, so much happened.

Even if it ended in disaster.

“No, I can change it. Now that I’ve returned, that future won’t…”

Lucy quitting streaming? No way! I will make her succeed.

Just as I proudly declared to Jutak.

—“Luha! Starting today, let’s seriously practice Sonagi 💪 I’ve already contacted artist Bebbetang for the avatar. Auditions open October 6, so be ready in advance. We also need a VR content piece—do you know anyone who can make maps? And for the third round, making an impression is key, so a concert would be ideal. There’s still time for that, so let’s prep slowly.”

“Huh?”

If Lucy just follows my plan, she can play a major role in the sweeping transformation soon to take place at Pangaea TV.

Come on, let’s forget the painful past and walk the path of success together!

“Um, sorry, I think you have the wrong stream.”

[You have been banned from this broadcast.]

Our reunion ended with a cold, decisive ban.