Chapter 2: Streamer's Struggle

The room was bathed in soft neon lights, a mix of blues and purples reflecting off sleek white walls. A high-end gaming setup dominated the space—three curved monitors, a mechanical keyboard that clacked with every press, and a microphone suspended from an adjustable boom arm. The webcam, mounted just above her center monitor, captured Elara's striking features as she leaned forward, her silver-blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

"Okay, chat, I got this. This is the match where I finally win," she declared, her voice smooth yet carrying a hint of determination.

The scrolling text on her secondary screen told a different story.

[Konqueror99: Nah, we're getting another Elara highlight reel of failure.]

[Shadow_Fang: 2 months back and still built like a bot.]

[LoreMaster: Should've stuck to magic, Queen.]

[UwUNecro: L + ratio + can't aim.]

Elara sighed dramatically. "Why do I even read chat? Why? All of you have no faith in me! I have improved!"

She focused back on the game—an intense PvP battle royale that required sharp reflexes and precision. Her in-game character, an armored swordswoman, sprinted across an open field, dodging behind cover as distant gunfire rang out. She spotted an enemy player and immediately went on the offensive.

Her mouse hand twitched.

She swung wildly.

The enemy sidestepped.

A precise headshot sent her character crumpling to the ground.

Silence filled the room for half a second before the kill notification flashed on-screen. Then, chat erupted.

[DeathOmen: LMFAO.]

[SilverLance: Is she legally blind??]

[JayWalker: This is a tragedy.]

[ElaraFan#1: WE STILL LOVE YOU QUEEN, EVEN IF YOU'RE TERRIBLE.]

Elara groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Okay, that one doesn't count. That was warm-up!" She peeked through her fingers at chat, already regretting it.

[NightCrawler: 'Warm-up' she says, after dying 10 times in a row.]

[TsundereTroll: Let's be honest, she's just here for the content, not the skill.]

[KoalaKing: Imagine being an S-Class hunter and losing to a bronze-tier player.]

Elara pouted, crossing her arms. "You know, I'd like to see any of you fight a Demon King for a hundred years and then instantly become good at FPS games! You're all judging me too harshly. My talents lie elsewhere!"

She spun her chair slightly, pretending to be haughty, which only fueled the chat's amusement.

[ToadstoolV: Someone queue the sad violin music.]

[KnightOfFate: She can kill demons, but can't land a headshot?]

[TitaniumGamer: Bro, even my grandma has better reflexes.]

Her lips twitched as she held back a laugh. In truth, she enjoyed the banter. Streaming had been a spontaneous decision—something So-ra had suggested after Elara had spent her first month back aimlessly wandering through life, uncertain about her place in this new world. "You're too powerful for the average hunter business, and you don't want to fight seriously anymore. Just do something fun," So-ra had said. "And knowing you? People would watch."

And she had been right.

Elara's return to Earth had been a media sensation. A mysterious, impossibly beautiful elf appearing out of nowhere, registering as an S-Class hunter, yet refusing to take missions? It was the kind of enigma people loved to speculate about. When she started streaming, people flocked in, drawn by her presence, expecting some god-tier performance.

Instead, they got this.

Elara sighed and queued up for another match. "Alright, this time, I promise I'll win. I just need to—"

A sudden voice alert cut through the game audio. A donation.

[PhantomSniper donated $100: Win a match, and I'll drop another $500.]

Elara froze, eyes widening. "H-hold on, a challenge? You dare question my honor?"

Chat went wild.

[SoulEater: It's over, she's sweating now.]

[WolfPackAlpha: Easy money for PhantomSniper, lmao.]

[SilverHairedElf: Okay, maybe she actually tries this time.]

Elara exhaled, cracking her knuckles. "Fine. You all wanted to see me take this seriously? I'll show you."

The next match started, and for the first time in the stream, Elara truly focused. Her expression sharpened, her posture straightened. She moved with careful precision, no longer running in blindly but instead utilizing cover, picking her fights wisely. Her audience noticed immediately.

[ThunderFang: Whoa, she's actually playing smart?]

[NoScopeGod: IS THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?!]

[DrunkenMage: Queen, please don't choke at the end.]

Elara made it to the final three players. Her heart pounded, fingers gripping the mouse tightly. She spotted her last opponent, crouched behind a rock. She had the high ground. This was it.

She lined up her shot. Chat held its breath.

She fired.

Her bullet barely missed.

The enemy retaliated instantly, a perfectly placed sniper shot taking her down in one hit.

Defeat.

The screen darkened, displaying the words YOU PLACED: 2ND.

The silence was deafening. Then—

[ZypherX: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.]

[TrollMaster69: SHE FUMBLED THE BAG.]

[Nightshade: Bruh, I'm crying.]

[UwUNecro: Nah, that's just tragic.]

Elara leaned back, staring at the ceiling in utter defeat. "I... I had that." She covered her face. "I choked. I choked so hard." Then, with a sigh, she looked at chat. "Alright, get it out of your systems. Laugh. I know you want to."

Chat was more than happy to oblige, the flood of messages a never-ending stream of amusement at her misfortune. But buried within the playful mocking were comments of genuine support.

[MoonWatcher: You actually did really well though.]

[StarGlider: Fr tho, you've improved a lot since the first stream.]

[ElaraFan#1: No matter what, you're still our queen.]

Elara huffed, smiling despite herself. "Fine, fine. I'll accept my failure with grace." She stretched, rolling her shoulders. "That's enough gaming for today. My pride can't take any more."

She glanced at the time—it was past midnight. "Alright, my lovely viewers, this is where I log off for the night. Thank you for coming, even if it was just to witness my suffering. I appreciate all of you." She gave the camera a small wave. "Until next time, stay safe, stay kind, and... I'll try to suck less next time. No promises."

With that, she ended the stream, leaning back in her chair with a deep sigh. Her phone buzzed with a new message.

So-ra: "LMAO. Saw the last match. You really choked."

Elara groaned, flopping onto her desk. "Even she's clowning me..."

The air was crisp as Elara stepped outside, the city lights casting a soft glow against the darkened sky. The streets weren't as busy as they were during the day, but a steady stream of people still moved along the sidewalks—couples chatting, office workers heading home, groups of young gamers excitedly discussing their latest matches. She tugged the hood of her jacket up over her silver-blonde hair, blending in as best she could.

She let out a long sigh, her breath visible in the cool night air. "Why am I so bad at that game?" she muttered to herself, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "I've fought armies, defeated a Demon King, ruled a kingdom for years, but I can't win a single match in a PvP game?" The sting of her final loss still lingered. If she had just landed that last shot, she would've finally claimed victory.

Her in-game character was a swordswoman, a class that should have suited her perfectly—graceful, fast, lethal. But no, in a world where skill with a blade was dictated by a mouse and keyboard instead of instinct and training, she was hopeless.

"Maybe I need a proper training arc..." she mused, half-jokingly. Did professional gamers train the way warriors did? Probably not. But then again, if she wanted to get better, she had to put in the effort. Or at least find a game that played more to her strengths.

Her stomach grumbled, cutting her thoughts short. Food first, frustration later.

The convenience store at the corner was brightly lit, its automatic doors sliding open with a soft chime as she stepped inside. The scent of warm, packaged meals mixed with the faint smell of instant coffee and sugary snacks. The aisles were lined with everything from neatly stacked cup noodles to freshly made rice balls and kimbap in refrigerated sections.

Elara grabbed a couple of onigiri, a bottle of peach tea, and—after a moment of indecision—a small tub of ice cream. Comfort food. Even warriors needed morale boosters.

As she made her way to the counter, the cashier, a young man with dark circles under his eyes, barely glanced up from his phone. "That all?"

"Mhm."

"8,900 won."

She tapped her phone against the payment terminal, the soft beep signaling the transaction's completion. The cashier finally looked at her as he handed over the bag. His gaze lingered for a second too long, and Elara tensed, preparing for recognition. But instead, he just blinked and gave a lazy nod. "Enjoy your night."

She exhaled quietly. Even though she had been back on Earth for two months, she still wasn't used to the idea that she was somewhat famous. People knew her face, at least those who followed hunter rankings or streaming. The hood helped, but she knew it was only a matter of time before someone stopped her in public.

Keeping her head down, she stepped out into the cool night and made her way home.

By the time she got back to her apartment, the hunger was winning out over her gaming frustrations. She kicked off her shoes, tossed her jacket over a chair, and plopped into her gaming chair with the grace of a defeated warrior. The convenience store bag rustled as she unpacked her food, peeling open the plastic wrap on an onigiri and taking a bite.

Warm, slightly salty, with just the right balance of rice and filling.

Simple food, but satisfying.

As she ate, she powered on her PC, the screen illuminating the dim room. Her fingers moved automatically, clicking through her applications before opening up Tera, the digital storefront for games. If she was going to suffer in PvP, maybe she should at least find another game to practice in.

Scrolling through the featured games, her eyes scanned the titles—MMORPGs, tactical shooters, strategy games. Nothing really stood out. Maybe she should try an RPG where sword fighting actually mattered. Something closer to what she was used to. Or maybe something completely different—building games? Puzzle games?

Just as she was about to click on a game description, her phone vibrated on the desk, the screen lighting up with a message.

Jung So-ra: "Yo, are you up?"

Elara blinked, then smirked. "When am I not up?" she muttered, picking up her phone to reply.

Elara: "Of course. What's up?"

A typing indicator appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared again.

Jung So-ra: "Got something you might be interested in. Wanna meet up?"

Elara arched a brow, intrigued. Something I might be interested in? Considering So-ra's personality, that could mean anything from a new game recommendation to some top-secret Hunter Association business.

She leaned back in her chair, finishing the last of her onigiri as she debated. Finally, she typed back.

Elara: "Alright. Where are we meeting?"

The automatic doors of the Hunter Association slid open with a soft whoosh, and Elara shuffled inside, hidden beneath the oversized hood of her gray sweatshirt. Her hands were buried in the front pocket, her feet lazily dragging forward in fluffy slippers as if she were being led to her doom.

The lobby was bright and modern, all polished floors and high-tech monitors displaying hunter rankings, active dungeon gates, and the latest news on awakened abilities. People in combat gear strode past her with purpose—seasoned hunters, fresh recruits, government agents. They all looked so professional.

Elara? She looked like she had just rolled out of bed.

Internally, she was already plotting ways to escape. Maybe she could pretend she forgot something and slip out? No, So-ra would see through that immediately. Maybe if she walked slow enough, she could pretend she never saw So-ra and just leave? Unlikely. Jung So-ra had the instincts of a wolf and the patience of a saint—well, almost a saint.

Her musings were cut short when a familiar voice called out.

"Elara!" So-ra's voice was sharp but amused, like she had expected this exact scene to unfold.

Elara sighed dramatically before turning to see Jung So-ra walking toward her, dressed in her usual sleek, combat-ready outfit—a fitted black jacket, dark jeans, and boots that looked sturdy enough to stomp through a battlefield. Her sharp, dark eyes swept over Elara's form, taking in the hoodie, the slippers, the overall aura of someone who had been dragged outside against their will.

So-ra smirked. "You really came dressed like that?"

Elara pulled her hood lower. "What, do I need to be in full armor to talk to you now?"

So-ra chuckled and gestured for Elara to follow. "Come on. Let's talk somewhere less suffocating. I know a place."

Elara hesitated for only a second before sighing and trailing after her. If she had to be dragged into some nonsense, at least she'd get something out of it.

The place So-ra had in mind turned out to be an ice cream shop just down the street, tucked between two tall office buildings. Despite the late hour, the neon "OPEN" sign buzzed softly, and inside, the scent of freshly made waffle cones lingered in the air.

Elara eyed So-ra suspiciously as they stepped inside. "You brought me here instead of interrogating me at the association?"

So-ra shrugged. "Figured you'd cooperate more if you were properly bribed."

Elara snorted but didn't argue. The moment they reached the counter, she eagerly scanned the flavors before pointing. "Strawberry and cookies & cream."

So-ra raised an eyebrow. "Still with the weird combos?"

"It's not weird, it's refined."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The two received their cups of ice cream and took a seat by the window, the soft hum of the freezers filling the quiet moments between bites. Elara relaxed slightly, her mood lifted by the sugary treat. Maybe this meeting wasn't going to be as painful as she thought.

Then, So-ra casually dropped the bomb.

"So, there's a new dungeon gate opening up soon."

Elara froze, her spoon halfway to her mouth. She slowly narrowed her eyes at So-ra. "No."

So-ra sighed. "You haven't even heard the details yet."

"I don't need to. The answer is no. I retired, remember? I'm a streamer now."

"A streamer who sucks at gaming."

Elara gasped in mock offense. "How dare you?"

So-ra smirked but didn't let up. "Look, this isn't some random dungeon. It's one of the special anomalies that have been popping up lately. High-level, unknown factors, possible world-ending threats—your kind of thing."

"Not my kind of thing anymore," Elara muttered, stirring her ice cream absentmindedly. "I'm done with all that."

So-ra leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Are you?" Her voice was quieter now, more serious. "I get that you want to live a normal life, but let's be real—you're not normal. You're an S-Class returnee. Even if you ignore it, the world won't."

Elara didn't respond immediately. She knew So-ra had a point. Even if she wanted to disappear into the background, it wasn't that simple. There were only a handful of returnees in the world, and none of them had the sheer level of power she did. Eventually, someone was going to come knocking.

But still—

"I just... don't want to deal with it anymore," Elara admitted, her voice softer now. "I fought for so long. I don't want to keep fighting."

So-ra sighed but nodded. "I get it. I do. But this isn't about just fighting. It's about preventing something worse. If this dungeon isn't handled properly, it could mean disaster."

Elara looked down at her half-melted ice cream, her stomach twisting. She knew what So-ra was doing—framing it in a way that made her feel responsible. And damn it, it was working.

"Fine," Elara finally said, slumping in defeat. "But only because you asked. And because I like this ice cream place."

So-ra grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "Good choice."

Elara narrowed her eyes. "But I have a condition."

"Of course you do. What is it?"

"You take me to that new Korean BBQ place. The one that just opened. And you pay for everything."

So-ra let out a short laugh. "That's it? Fine. You help with the dungeon, and I'll treat you to all the meat you can eat."

Elara considered for a moment before nodding. "Deal."

As much as she wanted to avoid the whole hunter business, she knew deep down that this was inevitable. And if she had to do it, at least she was getting a damn good meal out of it.