It was the age of great streamers.
A full-dive action VR MMORPG.
Streaming targeting the global user base.
Advancing technology had even overcome language barriers, and the market that had been growing since the early 21st century had finally reached its golden age.
Now, being good at games — specifically, “Infinity Black” — was comparable to being good at studies.
Much like when your cousin would proudly show off their Seoul National University student ID during family gatherings and get applause, proof of your game tier could now earn similar recognition.
Joining a famous siege guild could place you alongside elites entering large corporations.
Can’t get anything into your head no matter how many textbooks you read?
Can’t improve your grades? Then try raising your in-game tier!
If that doesn’t work, at least go out and grind some monsters!
For top-tier users, everyone aspired to become a streamer or professional gamer.
Because it paid. It was the avenue to amass both vast wealth and popularity simultaneously!
It was incomprehensible that anyone could be good at the game and not put their foot in either realm.
That being the case, there was an inexplicable existence within the high echelons of “Infinity Black.”
“Ah, thank you for the support, ‘FarmMoreSoobin.’ I was also planning to focus more on farming for a while. Since the next season is just around the corner, we need to prepare solidly. Everyone must be busy, right?”
“Uh? Soobin. Didn’t you see a white dot on the mini-map just now? Was it a mistake?”
“White dot? I didn’t see anything like that… Anyway, we don’t have any hostile guilds right now, so we should be fine. Is there really anyone to pick a fight with at this timing?”
Just as the party member’s voice was about to dismiss it as paranoia.
A flicker of unease crossed Soobin’s mind.
Now that he thought about it, there was one possibility.
Next season. Some kind of wildcard who would go around causing trouble regardless of shifting power dynamics among factions.
A notorious sniper that any upper-tier streamer would have come across at least once. A user who engaged in everything from field PKs to targeting other players in rank games or trolling them.
Her nickname was “Gawol.”
Sure enough, those feelings of unease were about to become reality.
Just seconds after the “white dot” appeared on the mini-map, a party member archer nearby was killed before he could even scream.
[NightwatchDied has been killed by an unknown adventurer.]
It was only natural who would follow next, now that the ranged damage dealer had fallen.
An assassin suddenly appeared among the party members, revealing a faint glow from their blade.
The sight of the assassin sent a chill down Soobin’s spine.
Silver hair peeking out from beneath a black hood. A distinct matte finish on their katana.
Their small stature and low stance were unnerving — their upward gaze chilling beyond measure.
The assassin pierced the party member mage’s heart, slit their throat, and kicked the corpse away with a foot.
Despite being inwardly impressed by the precision, Soobin could feel heat rising to his head.
It felt like an act of injustice.
After all, “Infinity Black” had death penalties, and Soobin’s most recent penalty had been courtesy of the Gawol standing before him.
“Why… why me again! I just died not long ago!”
It was no use. No amount of pleading would make the assassin pause their blade.
This was it. If he did nothing, he would die. There had to be some kind of resistance.
Soobin charged forward, using his shield.
It was futile.
Gawol leapt lightly, evading the rush, and drove a dagger into the cracks of his armor.
A knight’s durability could have normally withstood such an attack, but even the briefest stiffening was the problem.
All too quickly, a blade was positioned at Soobin’s neck.
A distorted voice spread across the area with a mocking tone.
“Just because. You were nearby. And you do seem to be making a lot of money lately.”
“It’s only because you’re not making any…”
Puuuk. Soobin’s screen went dark.
The last thing he saw was the chat rapidly flooding with messages.
[Author: ㅇㅇ(423.62)]
[Title: The guy who makes the least sense in this game.jpg]
That’s right, about this kid, Gawol.
She killed Soobin as soon as he turned on his stream today. What is she doing this for?
It just doesn’t make sense at all, right?
Thought she was starting a streamer career with a sniper concept, but nothing’s been heard of that lately, and it’s not like she’s planning to join the pro scene either.
There’s been no special event, so why is she specifically messing with streamers and pro gamers like this?
Is she just a random lunatic without any purpose?
With those skills, she could’ve joined the pro scene, for crying out loud.
[Comments]
– That sniper kid has skills, I’ll give them that.
└─ That’s why your so-called master gets his head taken by Gawol every day, huh?
– Solo rank and pro are different things.
└─ I heard her pro team offers were all declined.
└─ Manager Kang Seong-jin mentioned her recruitment failed before.
– Would be easier to understand if she were crafty; now, it feels like she’s got some issues.
– When you look at her statement rejecting the pro scene, it seems like she has her reasons, right?
└─ Then why’s she not streaming if you’ve got her skills? Damn.
└─ Just because you’re good at games doesn’t make you good at streaming, you know.
└─ Heard she’s a girl; if that’s true, at this level, her presence alone would be popular.
└─ I play assassin too, it’d be nice to see just once how Gawol plays from the first-person perspective.
*
[Infinity Black has been terminated.]
[Gawol, thank you for using our service.]
Wooowwwng.
The cooler spinning fiercely finally slowed down, making a deflating sound.
It was the sound I hated most.
The moment the game stopped, annoying reality inevitably came looking for me.
It felt like I’d become some debt collector, having to sign a binding contract.
Time to pay the price in the real world for the sweet dreams I’d had.
Switching from the assassin ‘Gawol’ to just ‘Da-eun,’ I once again became a pitiful nobody, just like a debtor.
“Noodles. Why aren’t there any noodles? Oh, was that our last one from last time?”
My strength drained from my body.
I sat down on the bed and hunted for my phone.
My bed was a mess, so it wasn’t easy to see anything, but even feeling around beneath the pillows turned up nothing.
The phone was likely wedged somewhere between the bed and the wall.
Found it.
The pre-ordered noodles wouldn’t be arriving today, it seems.
They were supposed to come on Thursday, but now it’s changed to Friday.
This is how the best logistics company in the country works, huh?
If I starve to death today, the cause of death will be this company’s shipping delay.
I should have known. There’s too much dust in my room anyway.
It means I don’t have to spill any valuable blood since I can leave a dying message.
“Aah… anything else besides noodles? Do we have anything else?”
Of course not.
My life revolves around this dark, cramped room, where I’ve lived for quite a while now.
In other words, I already know the exact state of my food supplies.
Even opening the fridge with such a futile hope reveals nothing more than cheap water bottles and carbonated drinks to greet me.
For now, let’s drink something.
My stomach is too empty.
Just getting something sweet to enter my mouth should improve my mood a bit.
Why must people be designed to have to eat in order to keep going?
A sip of cola barely satiates the hunger, but my body insists I need a meal.
There’s no helping it. I always game until I reach my limits and come out only when I can’t bear it anymore.
The fact that I’m even in reality now signifies my body has reached its critical point.
Delivery food? Forget about it. With my wallet, it’s a dream I can’t afford.
In such terrible situations… I have no choice but to visit the convenience store.
My growling stomach, “groooorooool,” encourages me to hurry.
“Alright. I’ll go. Might as well, right? I just need a moment to prepare mentally.”
For me, going outside takes a lot of courage.
I grasp the railing with one hand and the handle of the crutch with the other.
The crutch steps down the stairs first. My body follows only when the crutch is firmly supporting me.
Once prepared, I send down my faulty leg first and then place my good leg on the next step.
It’s a process where even a moment of carelessness can be perilous.
Since my body has almost no muscles, holding onto the crutches is itself exhausting.
The sensor lights that are supposed to brighten my path would repeatedly turn off.
Before I could wave my hand or the crutch to turn the light back on, all I could see ahead was a boundless abyss.
That’s right. I have a disability.
It’s a disability that doesn’t allow me to stand on both feet in this world.
Using my left foot like normal people—something I’m not permitted—is a violation of a solemn rule that invites dreadful punishment akin to divine retribution.
My one-room apartment is on the 3rd floor of a building without an elevator.
This is unavoidable. While apartments are everywhere on the Korean peninsula, all I can afford are these run-down old buildings.
Even a misstep now could lead to a terrible disaster.
Unable to endure the excruciating pain, I would scream, “GGGGHHHHHH!!!”, and my cry would reverberate down the stairs.
And the entire neighborhood would end up seeing me, someone who can’t even descend stairs properly, sobbing.
So, no matter how slow, I must proceed carefully and safely.
The route to the convenience store for me is like wading through a thick swamp.
But what I truly dislike isn’t this body I’m in…
“Welcome.”
As I opened the door to the convenience store, a male part-time worker greeted me dryly.
