Chapter 27 : A Vtuber Who Sells The Names Of Shining Stars

“Ziiiiiiaaaaaaak!”

Ah! That scared me.

I woke up from dozing off because of the scream.

Lol.

Sleep creatures, to arms!!!

How many screams was that just now?

Where’s the scream notifier?

Are you going to sleep?

[ZiaScreamNotifier has donated 1,000 won.]

Scream stack:

132 times

Thank you, scream notifier!

132 times? Lmao, how’s your throat not wrecked?

It seems fine for now.

This person is low-key indestructible.

Their stamina for streaming is insane.

You’ve got it wrong.

 I’m exhausted, seriously.

 It’s not that my streaming stamina is monstrous.

 It’s because I’m genuinely terrified and screaming for real.

The horror game “The Call of Al-Gulazad” is notoriously terrifying, with a playtime of roughly 1 hour.

Even people who are easily scared usually clear it within 2 hours.

But, That information was clearly wrong.

The sun is up now.

Current playtime:

6 hours and 37 minutes.

In a way, turning a supposedly 1-hour game into a 6x extended nightmare is a talent, right?

What the heck, I went to sleep, and you’re still playing?

Is this a bug?

Did this person nap in between or something?

Shockingly, they’ve been seriously grinding the game this whole time.

As the time rolled into morning, people getting ready for work or school began to flood the chat:

 “Why are you still playing this game?”

Good question.

I wonder about myself.

This isn’t about whether the game is scary or not.

It’s about my skills.

There are two main types of people watching streams:

People who leave the stream on while gaming themselves, and people who only focus on the stream.

I’m the latter type.

And my gaming skills are unspeakably terrible.

Which makes sense, because my hobby isn’t playing games myself.

It’s watching VTubers stream games.

Since I almost never play games, there’s no way I could be any good at them.

Add to that my awful gaming skills and the fact that I scream every time I take a single step in the game…

It’s no wonder my progress feels as slow as a snail.

“Noona, let’s stick to just chatting streams from now on.”

“From now on, if any hardcore gaming junkies spam the chat begging for games, I’ll take them out myself.”

“Kill… me… please…”

“Without the streamer’s screams, this would’ve been the most boring JOAT stream ever.”

“Why is this person so insanely bad at games?”

“Pray to the goddess of gaming, Dear Mutbyeol, to give this person some gaming skills.”

“Mutbyeol Noona, what’s going on?”

“…How much progress have I made so far?”

“95%.”

“Amazingly, it’s been 95% for the past hour.”

“Fuck, if they could just find the white butterfly, the game would be over. But they’ve been stuck in the same spot for an hour, unable to find it.”

“For the love of God, just take some advice from chat…”

Streamers playing internet games and taking advice from viewers is considered a sin.

At least, that’s what I think.

Sure, there are games where chat guidance can actually make things more entertaining.

But in horror games like the one I’m playing right now, taking advice from viewers doesn’t just reduce the fun—it eliminates it entirely.

So, I’ve outright banned backseat gaming.

I even announced that anyone backseating would be banned in the name of the great Mutbyeol.

Think about it.

If someone tells the streamer, “There’s a jump scare up ahead,” the streamer will already be mentally prepared for it.

How could you expect a natural reaction after that?

Jump scares are terrifying because they happen suddenly and unexpectedly.

If I know in advance, even someone as cowardly as me wouldn’t scream.

[“IDontCareBanMyAlt” has donated 1,000 won.]

“There’s a jump scare up ahead. Turn the corner, and a ghost will pop out.”

“I told you not to backseat! I said I’d ban you in the name of Mutbyeol…”

BANG!

“KYAAAAAA!”

“ZIIIIAAAAAK!”

“Why are you screaming even when they told you it’s coming? LOL.”

“They literally warned you just now. LMAO.”

“I’m dying, seriously.”

“Are you doing this on purpose, for real?”

“This has to be acting at this point…”

“It’s acting, right?”

“What’s WWE, and what’s UFC here… I can’t tell anymore.”

“…”

I…

I can’t do this.

It’s too scary.

I’m exhausted.

I want to quit.

Where on earth is that damn white butterfly hidden?

How could it be so well-hidden that I’ve been searching for an hour without finding it?

In the end, I chose the path leading to a coward’s refuge.

“…Backseating is now allowed. Please. Someone help me.”

If I’m going to be a coward, I’ll embrace it and clear this game by following the chat’s guidance.

“No, not there. To the left.”

“Here?”

“No, that’s right. I said left.”

“Left, you fucking left!”

“She doesn’t even have a brain, seriously.”

The rough language in chat is starting to crack me up.

LOL

“Honestly, it’s hard not to curse watching the streamer play.”

“Careful, there’s a jump scare coming.”

“Oh, here…? KYAAAAAA!”

“I told you to be careful, damn it.”

“Why do you keep getting scared, for fuck’s sake?”

“My ears are bleeding over here.”

“Yeah, my eardrums are already gone.”

“Now head east, and you’ll find the white butterfly.”

“East? Okay, okay…”

“No, that’s west, you idiot.”

“Does this person even know directions? East? West?”

“You mean I should go in there?”

“Yes, that’s east.”

“This place looks scary as hell. Why would I go there? No, I’ll go west. East looks like there’ll be ghosts.”

“Oh. So this whole time, you’ve been avoiding scary-looking areas on purpose?”

“There are no ghosts, I promise. No ghosts, no ghosts, no ghosts!”

“I’m losing my mind, losing my mind, losing my mind.”

“It feels like I just took the red pill.”

“Stop mentioning the red pill! No more red pill references!”

“Just close your eyes and go in, for the love of God.”

“Horror games are weird like that—bright places are actually scarier.”

“This is really the right way, isn’t it? If you’re lying, I swear on Mutbyeol’s name…”

“It’s right! It’s right, I swear!”

“Just fucking go already!”

“She’s insane; this has to be her fault.”

“Fine, don’t go. Just stay there forever.”

“Yeah, sure, Zia. Let’s just spend the next 24 hours playing this game, okay?”

“Is this some kind of mental showdown?”

“Why even ask for guidance if you’re not going to follow it?”

“…”

Judging by the reactions, they seem to be telling the truth.

I let out a deep sigh, did a quick stretch, took a sip of my energy drink, and even made a bathroom trip.

After roasting myself for about 20 minutes…

I went east.

And finally, I cleared the game.

“Finally…”

“You’re only clearing it now? Seriously…”

“I told you to go east earlier, damn it!”

“Never again will I make the streamer play a horror game.”

“First, let’s find and deal with the person who recommended this game in the suggestion thread.”

“That bastard is the real criminal. LOL”

“Honestly, they’re probably part of a cult.”

Clearing the game didn’t make me happy.

Instead, I felt a crushing sense of reality.

I didn’t realize until today just how horrendously bad I am at games.

Whenever I watched Ayase’s streams, I’d sometimes get frustrated and backseat like,

“You should do this instead!”

 But compared to me, Ayase might as well be a pro gamer.

Even if games aren’t the main focus of a stream, as a streamer, I can’t completely avoid playing them.

If I want to continue running smooth streams in the future, I need to improve my abysmal gaming skills.

This horror game taught me a lot.

Uh-huh.

“Yeah… anyway, thank you. I was only able to clear it thanks to all of you in chat.”

“Your voice LOLLLLLLL”

“It’s completely wrecked LOL”

“Well, with all those screams, it’s no wonder LOL”

“My voice? It’s fine. I’ll probably recover in like 10 minutes.”

“No, you won’t LOL”

Ten minutes later.

“It’s back.”

“?”

“How is that even possible?”

“Are you human?”

“Are you sure you’re human?”

“You’re not human…”

“You’re truly the strongest of the strong…”

“I told you, I’m not human. I’m a devoted follower of the radiant Mutbyeol. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Ah, it’s part of the lore.”

“Got it. Yep.”

Even now, maintaining the RP… that’s next-level commitment.

Current stream time:

14 hours.

Still…

10 hours to go.

I may have great stamina and fast recovery, but otherwise, I function like a regular human.

When I’m tired, I need sleep.

When I’m hungry, I need food.

Right now, I’m incredibly hungry and extremely tired.

To put it bluntly, even plain rice with kimchi would taste amazing right now.

And if I lay down on a bed, I’d probably pass out instantly.

In short, my condition is the worst.

“I need to eat something first.”

“Oh?”

“Part 1: Café. Part 2: Horror game. Part 3: Mukbang, let’s gooo!”

“This stream lineup is solid, though. LOL.”

“What are you gonna eat?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll order some fried chicken.”

There’s really nothing better than chicken to recover my stamina.

“Turning the cam on?”

“You think they will? LOL.”

“Should I?”

“?”

“????”

“What?!”

“Are they really gonna do it?”

“I was kidding.”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t get our hopes up for no reason!”

“I don’t even have a cam. Speaking of which, I should order food now.”

“?”

“Wait, are they actually considering it?”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

Honestly, I want to ask the viewers the same thing—what’s stopping me?

It’s not like I’d be showing my entire face anyway; I’d just turn on the cam and eat, that’s all.

For corporate VTubers, their agencies often strictly prohibit cam streams.

But I’m somewhere between an independent and corporate VTuber.

If viewers want it, I’m totally open to doing a partial cam stream.

After all, partial cam streams are excellent for drawing in new viewers.

Plenty of VTubers have gained momentum in their careers thanks to partial cam streams.

The “sacred duty of a streamer” is something that evolves in real time.

You never know what new duties might be added later.

So while I have the chance, I need to draw in as many loyal viewers—my “concrete layer,” or “devotees”—as I can.

When I announced that I’d soon be doing a partial cam stream, the chat exploded with reactions.

“Wow, they really declared it! Partially came in!”

“They must be confident.”

“You think your pool of sacred energy is limitless?”

“This, too, must be a blessing from the radiant Mutbyeol.”

“So are you actually a noona or what? LOL.”

Wait a second.

This scene, where I make a specific promise and the viewers cheer…

It feels like déjà vu.

Ah…

Now I remember.

Just yesterday, without thinking, I declared a “24-hour no-break, non-stop streaming marathon,” and that’s why I’m here now, sleepless and suffering.

“I… take back what I just said.”

“?????????”

“Mutbyeol says I shouldn’t do a partial cam stream.”

You never know—I might not want to do a partial cam stream later.

So I used Mutbyeol’s name as an excuse to cancel the promise.

This isn’t blasphemy, right?

Hmm.

Judging by the lack of backlash, it seems it hasn’t been considered blasphemous.

Which basically means…

I’ve been granted permission to use Mutbyeol’s name as an excuse.

“What the fuck, why would you get our hopes up?!”

“Mutbyeol Noona, what’s happening here?!”

“Well, it’s divine intervention, that’s all.”

Promises should not be made carelessly.

If you make promises recklessly, you’ll end up regretting them, just like I am right now.

Ugh.

There are still nine hours left.