Crash!
Crack!
The sound was surprisingly realistic for a game effect.
“Gyaaaaaaah!”
With a final motion of slamming her head into the ground, Lee Jia was forcefully disconnected from the game.
V-World was a virtual reality game so polished that it had no real competition, but despite its reputation, it was riddled with countless minor bugs.
One of V-World’s most infamous bugs:
When a player gets disconnected, a ghostly afterimage of their character lingers in the spot where they got booted—for several seconds.
Which meant…
The afterimage of Lee Jia, head smashed into the ground, remained on Ayase’s live stream for a good few seconds.
“LMAO”
“Begging Ending™”
“What a perfect ending”
“Best ending of all time”
“That chick is straight-up insane”
“Why did that sound like a desk breaking?”
“Did she actually headbutt her desk IRL??”
“OFFICIAL: Guest of the Year for the Downfall Show.”
“OFFICIAL: God of Streaming.”
“OFFICIAL: Master of Roleplay.”
Clap.
Clap clap.
Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap.
Staring at the frozen afterimage of Lee Jia, head buried in the ground, Ayase began clapping.
Not intentionally—her applause was purely reflexive.
She was genuinely impressed.
At this point, as the chat had already declared, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that the god of streaming had possessed Lee Jia herself.
Inviting her as a guest on the Downfall Show had been an absolute stroke of genius.
This was the best ending in the show’s history and the best guest they’d ever had.
The skyrocketing viewer count was proof of that.
Normally, Ayase’s Downfall Show pulled in around 15,000 viewers.
But today?
Today was double that.
The peak viewership had hit 30,000.
As Ayase delivered her closing remarks to the audience, she had one thought:
I need to personally thank Lee Jia for this.
She had been confident that inviting Jia would at least bring in a decent number of viewers—
But she never expected it to be this big of a success.
Nor did she expect that Jia would go as far as sacrificing her skull to entertain the chat.
Bit by bit, Ayase found herself growing more and more curious about this person named Lee Jia.
And to cut to the chase—
I am an idiot.
No, scratch that.
I am a dumbass.
No, no, beyond a dumbass—
I am an absolute moron.
And the reason I am roasting myself this hard is simple.
Because of my colossal dumbassery at the very last question of Ayase’s Downfall Show.
Maybe it was because I’d just smashed my head into my desk, but only now was I regaining my senses and replaying that final question in my mind.
“Choose the answer where the deity does NOT match the religion.”
A. Christianity – Lord Jesus Christ
B. Buddhism – Buddha
C. Islam – Allah
D. Luminous Star Religion – Luminous Star
At first glance, it seemed like there was no correct answer.
At first glance, it felt like it was baiting me into saying the name of Luminous Star.
But no.
There was a clear, correct answer.
The correct answer was…
B. Buddha.
Buddha is not a god.
Buddha refers to an enlightened human being who has awakened to the truth of the universe and attained Nirvana.
The most well-known Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, never once claimed to be a god.
And yet…
I… I…
I am an absolute, irredeemable dumbass.
It was a question with an obvious flaw—something I could have caught with just a bit of thought.
Of course, I had my excuses.
First, the fear of divine retribution had my brain short-circuiting.
Second, the 10-second time limit left no room for deep thinking.
Third, since this was the final question of Ayase’s signature Downfall Show, the pressure was immense.
In other words, Ayase deliberately designed the question with a flaw to create a double-layered trap, and I walked straight into it like a fool.
There was a way out, but instead, I personally boarded the express train to doom.
For someone who’s supposed to constantly seek knowledge, I had failed on the most basic level of common sense.
If the punishment for blasphemy was already harsh, I fully deserved an extra severe penalty this time.
If I had to guess—
Luminous Star probably wasn’t angry that I disrespected them or denied their divinity.
No, they were probably pissed off that I was so damn stupid.
The Official Historian of Omnia Archives title must be crying right now.
…Not that I ever wanted to be the Official Historian in the first place.
Ah, I hate this.
I hate my shallow knowledge and my pathetic reaction speed.
I hate Ayase for deliberately setting a trap.
And yet, despite that—
I love Ayase…!
Sorry for screwing up your show.
Well, moving on from the fact that I completely derailed Ayase’s content—
There’s one more annoying problem left.
My desk.
My keyboard.
My monitor.
They’re all broken.
What the hell am I supposed to do about this?
I haven’t even started my own stream yet today.
I was planning to do a post-show recap stream after Ayase’s Downfall Show wrapped up…
But now?
Forget the recap—I can’t even stream at all.
At least my PC wasn’t destroyed—that’s one silver lining.
But since my monitor is busted, streaming from home is already impossible.
What choice do I have?
If I don’t want to get scrapped like broken hardware, I need to bundle up, head to the nearest internet café, and start streaming there.
…The fact that I shattered my desk with my head and now have to go to a PC café just to stream is legendary.
Kim Jihoon, a 20-year-old college freshman.
About three months ago, he started working weekend shifts at an internet café to save up some money.
PC café work was boring.
If it were a busy café, he’d be swamped making food orders nonstop.
But the place he worked at?
Completely deserted.
At times, Jihoon wished it was busier—
Because standing around in a ghost town of a PC café was torture.
Fortunately, his boss was a pretty chill guy, and he allowed Jihoon to watch livestreams on the front desk computer when there were no customers.
That didn’t mean Jihoon just slacked off all day.
He cleaned the bathrooms.
He wiped down the keyboards.
He checked expiration dates on snacks and drinks.
He even cleaned the disgusting smoking room.
Only after finishing all his duties would he allow himself to watch streams.
But today—
Today was different.
Jihoon rushed through his cleaning faster than ever.
The reason?
He needed to watch Ayase’s Downfall Show live.
That’s right.
Jihoon was a hardcore Ayase fan.
The entire world was a fan of Ayase…!
Since he finished early, he secured the perfect seat at the front desk and watched the entire show from start to finish.
And the verdict?
Absolute satisfaction.
This was a legendary episode.
One of the greatest guests in the show’s history.
Jihoon was a diehard fan who normally only watched Ayase.
But today…
He found himself slightly curious about a different VTuber.
A VTuber named Lee Jia.
…Not curious enough to start watching her religiously, though.
If Ayase was “mild spice,”
Then Lee Jia was “nuclear fire chicken”.
Her inhuman level of roleplay commitment on Downfall Show was borderline terrifying.
Her pink hair was spicy.
Her huge chest was spicy.
“Spicy food is only good in moderation. Eat it every day, and you’ll just get a stomachache.”
That was the kind of nonsense running through his head when—
“Excuse me.”
“Excuse me?”
A familiar-sounding voice called out from across the counter.
Shit.
A customer.
Snapping out of his daze, Jihoon yanked out his earphones and tossed them aside, instantly switching into Professional Employee Mode.
“Ah, sorry about that! How can I… uh…”
“I need to make an account.”
“Uh… uh… wha…?”
PC café employee, Kim Jihoon—
For a brief moment, he wondered if he was dreaming.
Just to be sure, he pinched his thigh.
“Ow…”
Nope.
Not a dream.
“Hello?”
“Ah, y-yes!”
“The screen said I need to ask the counter to make an account. Can you do that for me?”
“O-Of course!”
Sweating profusely, Jihoon quickly set up the account for the woman in front of him.
After topping up 5,000 won worth of playtime, she headed straight for the most secluded seat in the café.
He barely held it in.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he barely held them back.
He almost straight-up asked her.
“Are you… Lee Jia?”
Because the woman who just created an account—
Looked exactly like the VTuber Lee Jia.
No—
Even “exactly” wasn’t strong enough.
She was a Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V copy.
…Could it be?
No way, right?
It couldn’t be.
But at the same time… it was way too similar to just be a coincidence.
Maybe…?
No, no, no way.
His thoughts spiraled.
One moment, he convinced himself, “Logically speaking, there’s no way it’s Jia.”
The next, “Logically speaking… it has to be Jia.”
Her face?
Possible.
The artist who designed Jia’s model could have based it on a real person.
Her pink hair?
Also possible.
Uncommon, but not impossible—anyone could dye their hair.
A ridiculous coincidence, but still plausible.
But her voice—
The exact same voice as VTuber Lee Jia?
That was impossible to ignore.
And on top of that—
She had the same… impressive proportions.
There was only one conclusion he could come to.
“Oh, the red pill!”
“Oh, the red pill!”
…What the hell is wrong with this café employee?
Sweating like crazy, muttering weird shit to himself—
What a weird guy.