Gotcha
Gotcha.
A stream sniper.
Honestly, I hadn't seen it coming at all — which meant I'd gotten complacent. Why hadn't I even considered this? Being new to streaming wasn't an excuse anymore.
Part of it was that I'd never dealt with snipers while playing Abyss. And the other games I'd streamed simply weren't the kind you could snipe.
Still, it was something I was bound to run into eventually. Stream sniping was practically a daily occurrence for broadcasters, or so I'd heard.
When enough people pile into a stream, you always get a few weirdos who show up in your game whether you invited them or not.
Anyway, my first impression of an actual sniper was… kind of neat, honestly. First time for everything. Of course it felt novel.
Confession time: I'd gone through a phase of sniping other streamers myself, so there was a certain full-circle satisfaction in realizing I was now the one being hunted.
My viewers, though, felt differently. Sniping rubbed them the wrong way on principle.
And at the same time, they were worried about me. Same as with every other streamer — they figured the snipers would run me over.
It looked like a lot of them, sure, but when you actually counted, it wasn't that many.
The ones who'd dropped near me numbered fewer than ten.
Only three of them had even turned on their mics to say hello. Given how small the looting zone was, I could understand why the chat was fretting.
They were probably worried I'd get shoved around before I could even finish looting. Viewers want to watch their streamer pop off, after all.
They spent most of their time roasting me, so seeing them actually care for once was pretty cute.
A hundred-player survival game. It wasn't like the other ninety-nine were all snipers. This was more than doable.
I'd already told chat I was going to win, so I had to back it up. I wasn't about to become the kind of liar who bounced rubber checks.
The man held his breath.
He didn't even have a mic connected, but he still moved carefully, as if the sound of his breathing might somehow leak through. He wasn't one of those idiots who sniped with open mics and ran their mouths. After years of sniping, he had rules.
Seriously, why do they always announce themselves?
He clicked his tongue inwardly. From Kayak's perspective, he and the loudmouth snipers were the same thing — but he liked to think he was different.
Then it happened. That clear, bright voice he'd been waiting for drifted into his ears.
"I'm going to win."
He turned his head toward the dual monitor. There was Kayak, mid-stream, saying it with a look of pure confidence.
"There's more than one or two snipers, though…"
He decided her confidence was arrogance.
His professional sniper instincts told him there were at least dozens of snipers in this match. The moment the lobby filled, it had reeked of a sniper queue.
Even Kayak couldn't handle that many. So he wrote off her claim as the usual newbie bravado.
First game and she's already talking about winning…
Where did that confidence even come from?
Eternal's beta had only launched yesterday. He wasn't a veteran either, but he'd already run more than a dozen matches since the servers opened.
Map layout, class skills, neutral monster behavior — he'd already logged enough time on the fundamentals that mattered.
Kayak was only just starting her first game. They weren't even on the same starting line.
This wasn't Abyss, her home ground. This wasn't an AOS game where one person could go on a rampage. It was a large-scale survival title, and a Kayak who barely understood the game had no chance of wiping out every sniper.
Besides, it would end with him. He'd just landed in the block next to hers. Finish looting fast, rush her, and she wouldn't stand a chance.
So he kept looting, one eye on her stream — until,
Here she comes!
The moment arrived.
Kayak had finished clearing her building and was heading straight toward him.
People said you could tell a pro from an amateur by looting speed alone.
Her physicals were clearly excellent — she'd already stripped an entire building bare.
Whether she'd actually sorted essential gear from junk along the way was another question entirely.
Either way, the prey had walked right into the hunting ground. At this point, he had no choice but to take her out.
His original plan had been to let her live a little longer, then ambush her the moment she killed a neutral monster and steal the reward.
The thrill of the backstab, plus a lesson in how cold survival games could be — that had been the idea. Her sudden move had thrown it off.
Did she not see me come in here?
Once you finished looting a building, going for neutrals made more sense than walking into the next one. Especially when he'd already cleaned this place out.
If he'd been a normal player instead of a sniper, he'd have left ages ago. Coming this way was pure pathing loss.
Watching her stream as she drew closer, he froze completely.
His class was Carpenter. Axe already upgraded, blade glowing a vicious red, he waited behind the door for her to walk in.
Come on in…
But contrary to his expectations, Kayak didn't open the door. Instead — if you could call it that — something odd came through her stream audio.
"Ah, hang on a sec. I just got disconnected? Give me a minute, chat."
"Disconnected?"
He muttered it and shifted his eyes from the game to the dual monitor.
She hadn't been lying. Her stream had switched from Eternal to her usual waiting screen.
A sudden crash-out. Awkward. Her voice carried genuine fluster, and the chat was flooding with confused question marks.
"What the…"
Then I have to snipe her all over again—
A deep sense of deflation hit him. He'd been so happy to land in the same match, and now she just drops?
He smacked his lips in disappointment and was about to look back at the game when—
BANG—!
A violent crash, out of nowhere.
A sound he knew well. The sound Eternal made when someone smashed through a door.
"No way…!"
He grabbed the mouse, trying to deny the possibility forming in his head. By the time he realized, it was already too late.
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud…
On screen, a silver-haired female character had appeared out of nowhere and was mercilessly carving up his avatar.
…A character even he recognized instantly.
She kept stabbing the corpse with her dagger long after the health bar had emptied — the purest newbie behavior. Or maybe she was doing it on purpose, just to mess with him.
"Gotcha, you bastard."
Calm voice, but with a thread of pure delight running through it. That settled it. Definitely the latter.
Realizing he'd been played, the man looked at his already-dead character and gave a bitter smile.
One second Kayak was showing her desktop, claiming she'd disconnected.
The next, the screen had switched back and she was cheerfully announcing she'd caught someone.
An enemy character collapsed on the ground. Kayak carving up the corpse. The sharper viewers put it together instantly.
Kayak had taken out a sniper. She'd deliberately faked a disconnect on stream just to bait him.
"Mmm, thanks for the credits, buddy. You watching the stream? Leaving me free credits so I can craft gear — what a nice friend, huh?"
Chat in absolute chaos. Kayak humming to herself while she looted the body.
Watching her, the viewers thought: maybe she really would do it. Maybe she'd beat every last sniper, just like she'd said.