Everyone Loves It!!
Everyone loves it!! I give up on singing and turn on the stream right away. Wow, I've grown so much. Already 150 people in the seats.
"Welcome, everyone. Thanks so much for coming today."
"Really?"
No way, from 0 to 150 viewers in just a month?! I've achieved insane growth, Sena. You're amazing. Gonna shower you with praise. Hehe.
"Thank you, everyone."
What did I even do? They always say this stuff. Where's the aura in anything I say? Every word turns into an aura battle or brag fest. Where?! They don't even give me time to think. Chat's real-time.
"Rust? We're doing that again? For real?"
Rust is a brutally accurate game that shows our place in the world all too clearly.
The chat reaction is super negative, but I'm curious about the schedule.
"When's it happening?"
I get why viewers are freaking out. For them, Rust is straight-up boring. Same screen yesterday, today, tomorrow—no escape.
Chop wood, mine rocks... farm in the subway, occasionally gamble at the casino. Rarely catch a war if you're lucky. That's it.
But for small-time streamers like us, Rust is a double-edged sword—a land of opportunity or brutal trial by fire.
You gotta kill and loot to survive. It takes forever. No quick wins. Grind time for content means heavy labor.
That's why there's a strict hierarchy: megacorps, mid-tiers, small corps, micro-corps, contractors, sub-contractors, sub-sub-contractors.
Never upset the order—upsets are forbidden by unspoken rule.
Megacorps and mid-tiers: Tier 1. Small and micro: Tier 2. Contractors and below: Tier 3.
Tiers can poke at each other for stream drama, but lowers can't sass uppers. Do it, and you and your team take the heat.
When I joined Rust, I was sub-sub-contractor. A Discord recruit party offering wood and stone to another contractor boss—like slaves.
"Voluntary," of course. "Neighbors help neighbors." No viewers anyway, so no complaints.
I'm lost in thought when a donation snaps me back.
"No, no! Don't insult yourselves!"
Here we go again. Self-deprecating jokes. Some hit home, sure... but no depressing ones allowed.
"Um... viewers..."
Never crossed my mind. Viewers are just viewers, right?
"No, no, don't say that. I mean..."
Panicking, scared, terrified. My least favorite situation: all eyes on me.
Sweat pours down my body. AC cools it, chills hit. Shaking uncontrollably. Breathing ragged.
"I... um... so..."
spam floods chat. Heart races faster. This is too much. I suck at this.
Money won't fix it. It's innate. I even went to speech academy... but no dice. Why torture me?
Trembling, I mash words together. Cute? Baby? Baby something?
"Um... hmm... Baby, baby angel? How's Baby Angels?"
"Um... no. That's not normal."
No way. Why the backlash? Weirdo.
I meant it sincerely. Why doubt me?
"I mean it~ Baby Angels is cute."
Hmm, got work to do today. Once I latch on, I push. I like Baby Angels, so I'll fight for it.
Baby Angels
Ugh, I'll change it later if better comes. Gotta. Massive regret already.
First fandom name I thought of, so I went with it—no deep meaning. But this is a blunder. True regret. Time travel? Devil deal? I'd do it.
Viewers rebelled at first, now obsessed with this grotesque concept. I get abyss, disgust now. No shame? Embarrassing as hell.
Our viewers have an age range. Weekday 3 PM watchers—not kids.
TTS in grandma voice. Chat reacts.
Tteolttai? They're obsessed. Mash words into forced baby talk Tteolttai.
Funny at first. Like zoo monkeys? Fun.
Now? Insane. Gonna lose it. Chat what? No shame? Bots?
Instantly get why streamers complain about insanity. One hour of this? Mad. No chill. Begged to stop 10+ times.
"Guys... stop."
No effect. Big dogs can't be owned casually. Even sweet ones—wild side emerges, uncontrollable. Especially for clueless me. Silver lining though.
Allies exist. Brainrot tires viewers, they fire support. But normals are minority—no dent in Tteolttai horde.
"I... I don't know. Why take it out on me?"
Thought I had no anger inside. Wrong.
Just a greenhouse flower happy with sun and breeze. But anger's there. First 5 mins fine. 10 ok... 30 mins? Hard. Near hour? Brutal.
"P... please stop, guys. I'll... open negotiations. Please..."
Wanna choke 'em. Only thought. Til kekking... "sorry"... beg.
Tried everything to escape. Ban? Did some temp bans, no change. Ban spree? Fine, I'll get banned first.
5+ alts per person, pointless. A Tteolttai said it.
Bans hurt me. 190 viewers... ban half? Stream dead.
Wait, where's my impersonators? Always mimicking me: "choke viewers, kill, don't sass..." stressing me. Hiding now? Addicted to Tteolttai too?
"Why no impersonators now? Like 'Sena... gonna stab XX bastards deep... no fighting... stop or choke' stuff."
"No, not what I meant. Just curious why none now."
"T... totally Tteolttai..."
"I... I'll think about it!"
Hate it. Say no? Chat explodes. After hour of this? No mercy.
Again. One starts, spreads. Now adding "Jesus." So childish. What to do with these people? Sob.
Live stream = random nonsense. This is it.
"Ah... I'm not good..."
Tone-deaf, beat-deaf.
Didn't even say yes, already lightsticks and emotes. VTuber no face, so singing's fine. Confident even.
Real worry: suck and disappoint.
"Really can't... ok?"
Everyone wants it. Maybe? Our ears differ? Spark of hope, courage rises.
Music illiterate, maybe misjudge my skill?
Brave up, hunt YouTube MR with lyrics, notes, beat.
"H... here goes?"
...
Song ends successfully.
"For real...?"
"No! One more. Thanks so much, everyone."
Hehehe. Praise feels good. "Praise dances whales" saying.
Super hyped. Sounded meh to me. Don't solo-judge. Viewers liked! Why tho? Question marks flood. Sudden game push. Huh? I know songs.
Said sounded good? Gotta repay. Sang 3+ more hyped. Lightsticks, praise, fun each time.
Make happier. Hehe. Sang 10+ til karaoke end. Wanted more, no songs left.
Viewers cheer huge—why? Ehehe. Everyone loves, I'm thrilled. Next time blast more. Hehe.