"Since I've got my tier, it's about time to shut down the game and just chat for a bit."
I said that and closed Kill Ground. Honestly, I hadn't expected to get Orihalcon, so I was a little surprised. Still, I had to keep the stream going, so I calmly spoke as I shut down the game. Naturally, my slight excitement rubbed off on the viewers.
―"How did Orihalcon even come out?"
―"The opponents in the first match had high tiers too, so maybe it's not a huge deal?"
―"The real issue is this guy hasn't even played a single normal match."
―"If he carried over his PC MMR, it makes sense he could queue this high."
―"Even so, he hasn't played a single normal match—how does Orihalcon appear immediately?"
―"It's speed mode, so maybe the criteria differ from ranked?"
―"Even in ranked, he'd probably still get a high placement."
"Huh?"
Scrolling through chat, one comment stood out: someone had mentioned that my PC MMR had carried over. That made sense—my PC MMR was fairly high, so such a queue wasn't too surprising.
"Guys, is it really true that PC MMR carries over?"
―"Yup."
―"Really."
―"You didn't know?"
―"Judging by earlier, I don't think he did."
―"That's why anyone coming from PC jumps straight into queue after practicing in the training ground."
"Ha…"
Hearing them talk, I realized just how much I had struggled. Instead of warming up in the training ground, I jumped straight into the unfamiliar matches and adapted on the fly.
"Man, I really suffered."
If I had known about my high MMR, I would have practiced in the training ground first—and maybe my results would have been even better. Thinking about it made me feel a tinge of regret.
"Well, Kill Ground's over, so let's leave it at that."
―"Okay."
―"Yeah."
―"I don't want to."
―"What can you do if we insist?"
―"Haha, nothing, right?"
While some viewers obediently followed my lead, others were being snarky. I could have ignored them, but that might disrupt the chat, so I decided to wield the ban hammer.
['Poriri' has been muted for 5 minutes.]
['Kono' has been muted for 5 minutes.]
.
.
.
Anyone deliberately stirring trouble got muted. It was a temporary fix, but they wouldn't repeat the same chat right away. Once I started muting, even viewers who were trying to derail the conversation went silent.
After clearing the chat, I continued normally.
"Now, let's talk about the upcoming schedule."
I had work lined up the day after tomorrow, so I'd cover it on stream. Tomorrow, I planned to rest. With the recent surge of viewers, I was mentally exhausted.
"Tomorrow I'll take a break, then stream the day after tomorrow."
―"Taking a break tomorrow?"
―"What's happening the day after tomorrow?"
―"Are you bringing content?"
―"Why not just stream tomorrow and the day after?"
―"Seems tired from yesterday and today's chaos."
―"He's taking a day off?"
Viewers were surprised I'd rest tomorrow. Newer viewers might expect a break in streaming, but some of the older ones noticed the change—they knew I'd been streaming consecutively. Naturally, the chat started speculating wildly.
'About a week until the tournament.'
There'd be a roster announcement and a mock auction the day after tomorrow. Then, team members would be selected through the main auction, followed by three days of scrims—including the day of the tournament—culminating in a two-day event.
'So tomorrow is my only day to prepare for next weekend's missions.'
Because of the tournament, direct lessons weren't possible, but I'd still give minor assignments after a quick progress check. The following weekend, I'd teach the full strategy.
"Well, we'll discuss the details the day after tomorrow. I also need some rest."
―"Got it."
―"So what now?"
―"Nothing else?"
―"You're not ending the stream here, right?"
―"Anything to do?"
The viewers seemed to understand, so now it was time to figure out what to do with the remaining time—well, the viewers were going to decide.
"Alright, I'll give you two options."
―"What?"
―"What are the options?"
―"Found something to do?"
―"What are you going to offer?"
"One, we can just chat for about an hour and call it a day. Two, we find a short game and play it."
Those were the two options. Of course, the viewers would pick the latter. Long chat sessions only appeal to a stable viewer base, but my current audience had mostly come in for games—they wanted gameplay.
And, as expected, chat chose the second option.
―"Shut up and play."
―"Where are you comparing games and chatting?"
―"Games, obviously."
―"Was there even a topic for chatting?"
―"Just shut up and play."
Naturally, I said:
"Fine, find a game to play."
Usually, I'd prepare the game myself, but this time, the viewers were driving the choice—so my 'dictatorship' worked. Some viewers might dislike this, but those would never stick around anyway. The ones genuinely interested would enjoy the control twist.
We waited a bit while chat suggested games. The final three candidates were:
PunkPunk.
Howling 2.
Final Fight.
Other suggestions were mostly RPGs or long games, so I discarded them. These three were short enough to handle.
PunkPunk is a cyberpunk survival roguelike. Death ends the run, and there's no definitive ending, so I could stop whenever I wanted.
Howling 2 is a short-story indie game, recently released, and actively recommended by viewers.
Final Fight is a fighting game with open-world elements.
"I don't know these capsule games, so I'll leave it to viewers to vote."
I filtered out what I could, and the final choice was theirs. Voting started immediately.
―"11111111111"
―"2"
―"33333"
―"1111"
―"222"
―"2222"
―"111"
.
.
.
I couldn't see exact results, so I estimated by eye.
'Looks like 1 and 2 are close, 3 barely got any votes.'
After five minutes, I closed the vote.
"I think I gave enough time, so no complaints, please."
―"Yup."
―"If you haven't voted by now, you won't."
―"Agreed."
―"I voted, so I'm fine."
―"Yup."
Satisfied, I revealed the results.
[Vote Results]
47%
46%
7%
Option 3 got crushed with only 7%. Options 1 and 2 were neck and neck, but 1 won by just 1%. Naturally, those who voted for 2 were disappointed.
―"My Howling 2!!"
―"No way! Why skip it?"
―"How did PunkPunk beat Howling 2?"
―"Rigged! Rigged! Rigged!"
The disappointment was intense enough to feel like a battle might break out. Clearly, many wanted to play Howling 2. I had no intention of changing the decision.
"Next time, try suggesting again."
I left the disappointed viewers behind and opened the capsule store to buy PunkPunk.
"Price…"
I muttered, checking it again. I expected it wouldn't be free—but it was higher than I thought.
"Guys, it's really 80,000 won?"
―"Yup."
―"Pretty cheap."
―"Honestly, feels like it's priced too low."
―"They really considered buyers here."
―"Cheap, but fun enough to rival expensive games."
―"That's why this studio's great."
The chat praised the price as cheap. For me, it was expensive, but I had no choice.
'My hard-earned money…'
I entered my payment info and bought the game. I didn't have much cash on hand yet, so it felt like real sacrifice.
[Payment Completed.]
Seeing this message was painfully surreal.
I returned to the main screen.
"Purchase complete. Let's start playing."
Even knowing I shouldn't let my energy drop, the price lingered in my mind. My tension dipped—but a viewer came to the rescue.
['OrangeGrape' donated 100,000 won!]
[Start the game!]
"Let's start right away!"
Thanks to the donation, my energy surged back. I launched PunkPunk, and the landscape transformed into a crumbling city. Cyberpunk aesthetics made the destruction oddly mesmerizing.
And in my head, one thought crossed:
'There's no way this will end quickly…'