Disaster-Level Player Is Too Good at Broadcasting Chapter 17: « Buzz [1]»

A man sat behind a mahogany desk, fingers interlaced, posture relaxed yet imposing.

His presence alone gave off the unmistakable aura of soone accustod to command; soone who had built and crushed organizations with equal ease.

Before him stood two individuals.

They were dressed identically: crisp white shirts tucked neatly into black slacks, black ties pulled tight, and long beige trench coats that fell past their knees.

"Report."

The man behind the desk said calmly.

The woman stepped forward half a pace.

"You asked us to look into the super rookie that's been trending."

The man's gaze sharpened slightly.

"The one clearing the early floors at record speed."

"Yes."

The male agent replied.

"The masked player."

The man leaned back in his chair.

"Singularity."

The na lingered in the air.

"He's been drawing attention..."

The woman continued.

"Cleared the first floor faster than the previous top record."

The man nodded slowly.

"And?"

The male agent hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking.

"Respectfully… it's not that impressive."

The woman nodded in agreent.

"It's still the tutorial phase. Barely Floor One. We see clears like this from ti to ti, especially from first-ti climbers."

She folded her hands behind her back.

"With the sheer amount of streams, VODs, and strategy guides circulating these days, optimization keeps improving.

New players have access to refined routes, optimal builds, even fra-by-fra breakdowns."

The man behind the desk listened without interruption.

"It's likely just another case."

The male agent added.

"Soone who studied hard, executed well, and got lucky."

"That's where you're wrong."

The agents stiffened slightly.

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

"Talent doesn't always announce itself with grandeur."

He said.

He tapped a finger against the desk once.

"And I've been listening long enough to know the difference."

The agents exchanged brief glances.

"This isn't just about speed."

"The way he adapted mid-clear wasn't sothing copied from a guide."

He straightened.

"I can say this confidently...this one is real."

The woman frowned.

"Sir, even if that's true—"

"It's best to recognize talent early."

He interrupted.

"Before it's shaped by others."

His voice hardened slightly.

"Scout him. Imdiately. Before the other guilds catch on."

The male agent hesitated.

"That may be difficult."

"Oh?"

"He wears a mask at all tis."

"His identity is concealed.

No voice filters, but no biotric tells either. And with how many new players enter the Tower daily…"

The woman added.

"The variables are too broad.

Finding him directly would be..."

"Then narrow them."

The man stood.

"It can't be that hard."

He walked around the desk, stopping in front of them.

"The Player Lobby maintains entry logs. Everyone who's entered the Tower recently has a Player ID."

The agents nodded slowly.

"Cross-reference IDs with masked entries..."

"Ti stamps. Clear records."

"And if that doesn't work?"

The woman asked.

The man paused.

Then he turned back to the desk.

"If that doesn't work…"

He picked up a thin glass tablet and slid it across the surface toward them.

The screen lit up.

It showed a paused clip.

The masked player standing and beside him...

A girl smiling brightly at the cara, holding up a pink sli monster with both hands

The agents stared.

The man's voice was calm.

"Connections."

The woman's lips curved faintly.

"Understood."

The male agent nodded.

"We'll begin imdiately."

They turned and exited the office without another word.

The man returned to his chair, gazing out at the distant Tower.

"Let's see what you beco," he murmured.

---

Late morning sunlight spilled into Kang Min's apartnt.

The balcony glass doors were wide open, allowing a soft breeze to drift in.

Curtains fluttered lazily.

Kang Min stood in the middle of the living room, frowning at his phone.

The device was mounted on a tripod, pointed vaguely in his direction.

"Hm…"

He leaned closer, squinting at the screen.

"My phone cara isn't that great…"

He straightened and glanced over at the T1 drone resting quietly on the table.

Kang Min stared at it for a long mont.

"…Worth a shot."

Minutes later, through a series of improvised clamps, tape, and sheer stubbornness, the drone was sohow secured to the tripod.

Kang Min wiped sweat from his brow.

"I'm a genius."

He connected the drone's video output to his laptop, pulling up the live feed.

The image was crisp, clear and professionally frad.

His apartnt looked… good.

The open balcony doors revealed the Tower standing tall in the distance, its massive structure dominating the skyline like an indifferent god.

Kang Min nodded in satisfaction.

"That should do it."

He reached for the black mask resting on the table.

Smooth and Featureless only narrow slits for the eyes.

He pressed record.

---

Across the city, a young man sprawled lazily on his gaming chair froze when a notification popped up.

"Wait…"

His eyes widened.

"This is from [Singularity]?"

He clicked instantly.

The video loaded.

The first fra showed glass balcony doors open, and the tower in the background.

Centered in fra stood Singularity, masked, dressed simply.

"Hey," Singularity said.

His voice was calm, slightly awkward.

"Uh… this isn't a stream."

The viewer leaned forward.

"I wanted to do an unboxing video," Singularity continued.

"I've been receiving a lot of gifts lately."

He scratched the back of his head.

"I'm not sure if these are from subscribers or viewers from the recent streams, but… really. Thank you."

A translucent window appeared beside him.

[Strear System – Mailbox]

The viewer blinked.

"He's showing it?"

Singularity opened the first package.

Inside was a low-grade mana ring.

"Oh-this one's graded," he said, surprised. "Grade C.

Sender… 'Anonymous_Watcher.'"

He slipped it on experintally.

"Uh… wow.

This actually boosts mana regen a lot."

He bowed slightly.

"Thank you."

Another box.

This one larger.

He opened it and froze.

"…Is this real?"

He lifted a high-quality potion vial, the liquid inside shimring.

"Grade B Healing Elixir..."

"These are expensive."

He laughed softly. "I'll… treasure this."

More packages followed.

A cloak with minor stealth enchantnts.

A custom strear mic with rune etchings.

A handwritten note that read: Don't die early. We're rooting for you.

Singularity paused.

"…I won't."

At one point, he opened a small box only to reveal...

"…Socks?"

He tilted his head.

The note read: For dungeon luck.

He stared at the cara.

"…Thank you?"

Halfway through, a tiny sli plush fell out of a box and bounced onto the floor.

Singularity crouched, picked it up, and held it toward the cara.

"It looks familiar..."

Near the end, he sighed.

"Just to clarify...this isn't the official unboxing stream."

"That'll still happen.

This is just… mail."

He nodded.

"Thanks again. Really."

The video ended.

The viewer leaned back, exhaling.

"…Yeah," he said to himself.

"I like this guy."

He opened the comnts.

They were flooding in.

---

[Comnts]

1. HE POSTED???

2. The Tower in the background is such a flex

3. Man said "this isn't a stream" and dropped a better video than half the platform

4. Those socks are 100% cursed

↳ Nah they're luck socks trust

6. Showing the strear system is crazy transparency

7. The way he bowed ToT

8. Protect this man

9. Grade B elixir??? Who's rich in here

↳ Guilty.

11. Singularity is weirdly wholeso

12. That sli plush looked EXACTLY like Pinkhee's

↳ WAIT YOU'RE RIGHT

↳ Coincidence???

15. Mask awkward energy = instant fave

16. Bro unboxed socks and still said thank you seriously

17. This feels like early days of a legend

18. I was here

19. Don't let the big guilds get him

20. Too late.

---

The viewer smiled.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"He's special."

---

Park Woonhee sat at a small table inside a soup healing joint.

Steam rose from her bowl, carrying the rich scent of dicinal herbs and slow-simred broth.

Her phone rested against a condint holder, Singularity's video playing.

"He's really a natural at this," she said, smiling softly.

She took a sip of soup.

"Excuse ."

Woonhee looked up.

Two people stood beside her table.

A man and a woman.

White shirts. Black ties. Black pants.

And long beige trench coats.

"Yes?"

Woonhee asked.

The woman smiled politely.

"Are you Strear Pinkhee?"

The soup continued to steam between them.