I Was Trying to Stream a Slow Life, but It Seems My Golem Partner Started Warming Up. - Chapter 3

The Royal Capital, Centhors.

As the kingdom’s premier city, it housed top-tier companies and schools from various sectors. Many beings lived their lives there—sometimes learning, sometimes playing, sometimes working.

The elf Tarata was one such resident of the Royal Capital.

Elves were a long-lived race dwelling in forests, said to easily live past 800 while maintaining a youthful appearance. Their elders, despite still looking like they were in their mid-twenties, casually appeared in ancient texts from over 1200 years ago. It was hard to even fathom how long they lived—that was just how long-lived they were. Because this was common knowledge, Tarata was often rumored at her workplace to be “probably well over 200 years old, easy.”

Today, like any other day, Tarata shrugged off those rumors as she entered her rented house. Cracking open a frigid drink from the magical food-chilling box—the refrigerator—she gulped it down and began to grumble between sighs.

“Over 200… I’m actually only fifteen, you know.”

Indeed, Tarata was still just fifteen. An age where even humans could still be called children.

For elves, who were only considered ‘young adults’ once they passed 200, Tarata, working diligently in the Royal Capital at age fifteen, was seen as an anomaly. Yet, even knowing this, she had her reasons for working.

“Ah, the magical enchantment today was truly beautiful…”

Tarata dreamily recalled the weaponry she had seen at her workplace. She worked at an atelier—a workshop for alchemists—where numerous practitioners handled jobs brought in by clients. Among the various alchemical arts, Tarata particularly loved magical enchantment.

Using magic stones to imbue ordinary weapons with new magical power. Captivated by this process, she had begun walking the path of an alchemist in the Royal Capital.

Begun walking the path… yes, that part had gone well, but…

“Haaah… They still won’t entrust me with any work…”

Slumped over in dejection, the harsh reality weighed on her: today, yet again, she hadn’t received a single enchanting job, nor any alchemist work at all. At the atelier where she worked, clients chose the alchemist they wanted to commission, and only then could it be called ‘your own work.’ Furthermore, her atelier was one of the top-tier workshops in the capital, employing many alchemists far more skilled than her.

In such an environment, Tarata, who had learned alchemy on her own, frankly lacked credibility. Because she lacked credibility, no clients chose her, the alchemist named Tarata. Still without her own commissions, she spent every single day merely assisting her seniors, getting only the scraps of work they offered.

She was working, certainly, but since it wasn’t her work, it felt the same as not being entrusted with any work at all.

(How many more years… no, how many more decades will days like this continue…?)

As an elf, and a fifteen-year-old one at that, Tarata had more time—more life—than others. She knew that, inevitably, with enough years passed, she would become the most senior member and a top-tier alchemist at that atelier. It was practically guaranteed. But having a long lifespan, having lots of time, didn’t change the present reality of having no work of her own.

“Times like these call for winding down with a stream.”

Sighing wouldn’t help. Tomorrow, a client might finally choose her. To ensure she was ready, she decided to get a good night’s sleep and picked up her magic device to watch a stream.

—-Streaming.

It was one of her favorite cultural phenomena, something she’d watched even back in the elven village.

On the screen of this tiny magic device, small enough to fit in her hand, streamed videos shot from all over the world. Tarata, like many other elves, loved this culture of streaming that allowed easy connection with people from everywhere.

What Tarata wanted to watch now was a ‘sleep aid’ video. Videos that simply showed a crackling bonfire, or let you listen to the continuous sound of waves—videos designed to lull you into a pleasant sleep, hoping to ensure good rest for tomorrow.

“Hm…? A crafting stream?”

Amidst the options, Tarata spotted a particular crafting stream. The streamer’s name was ‘Alkemy,’ an alchemist streamer she’d never seen before, as she usually stuck to sleep aid videos.

“A crafting stream… And it says, ‘Alchemy: Crafting a Magical Stove Until Completion.'”

Crafting streams, as the name implied, simply showed the process of creating a single item. And for Tarata, crafting streams were also one type of effective sleep aid video.

After all, crafting streams—took an incredibly long time. Alchemy involved repeating three main steps: ‘Extraction,’ removing necessary materials from mixed ingredients; ‘Synthesis,’ combining two or more materials; and ‘Forming,’ shaping the synthesized object into the final product. Watching this repetitive process often resulted in monotonous videos, which Tarata judged weren’t bad for falling asleep to.

“I’m curious about the skill level of other alchemists, too. I think I’ll try falling asleep to this stream tonight.”

With that thought, she tapped the screen and started watching Alkemy’s crafting stream.

Little did she know that this stream would drastically change her destiny. She couldn’t have possibly dreamed it.