Speedrun

After toppling the tutorial boss without breaking a sweat, I took a moment to reconsider my goals for today.

First of all, today was not about showing off my mechanics.

If I'd wanted to flex my mechanical skill, I would have declared a no-hit clear.

But I never said anything about a speedrun.

So what was today's goal?

Like I just said — a speedrun and a world first clear.

How?

By exploiting a regressor's privilege.

Well, it seems I've somehow ended up showing off my mechanics anyway.

Regardless — the mission succeeded, so I hit the mission success button.

"Dinner's on you, thank you."

"F***!"

"I got cheated, so I will see the ending today, no matter what!"

"Yes. Thank you for the mission and the donation — though that was some colorful language."

Thanks to me flagrantly advertising that I was fresh off the boat, the chat — which had been in a frenzy — finally calmed down.

"Alright, stop hazing the newcomer and watch the game."

I used the key dropped by the tutorial boss to move on to the next area. And the instant the loading screen for that next area finished, I walked backward and plunged off a cliff.

Reading the chat so thick with bewilderment that it practically leaked through the text, I smirked inwardly.

Ugh!

"Whoa."

The moment my character hit the ground, fall damage had chewed its HP down to a sliver — barely five percent left.

In other words, I had survived anyway.

And as I panned the camera around, a save point came into view.

"Lucky me."

Revealing a sequence-break that wouldn't be discovered for months — on launch day, no less — flipped the chat completely upside down.

After savoring the chat's reaction to the fullest, I regrouped and pressed on.

"Hmm… now, where might this be?"

Having deliberately wandered around a familiar path for a bit, I headed toward this area's boss.

"Oh, that looks like the boss room over there."

Hmm… forget streamers — am I not first in the whole world, everyone combined?

Because it isn't luck, that's why.

Delivering an explanation I couldn't say out loud purely within the confines of my own skull, I turned my eyes back to the game.

The moment I stepped into the boss room, a cutscene played.

"Looks cool."

The cutscene was genuinely well-made — fitting for a boss soon to be reduced to every gamer's personal punching bag…

Gamers and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drifters who'd caught wind of how fast my progression was had started flooding in and lighting up the chat.

"Welcome, everyone. Quite the crowd today."

The cutscene ended the moment I finished greeting them, and I was too busy playing to check chat — but they were probably busy battling it out with my regulars.

Well then, I'll just calm them all down with my gameplay, won't I?

To put that thought into practice, I rolled under the boss's downward slam, landed two basic attacks, grabbed hold of its tail, and started circling it round and round.

Rolling in circles to dodge, smacking its rear once each time my stamina refilled — somewhere along that loop, the boss died.

Hmm… it really does take longer without parrying, doesn't it…

Regardless, heart pounding with anticipation, I checked the chat window.

Could there ever be another day when reading chat held this much promise?!

Showing off a regressor's most basic privilege — an information advantage — for the very first time had dopamine pouring out of me without end.

"That boss was easier than it looked, wasn't it? How about for the rest of you?"

This was fun…!

Way too fun!

After briefly soothing a brain pickled in dopamine, I moved on to the next area.

"Now let's pick up the pace."

My viewers lined up every theory imaginable for why I was so good at this game, and not one of them was right.

Right — who would ever guess that someone regressed through time?

Even if someone did type it into chat, it would obviously be written off as a joke.

Telling myself that even if I were in their seats, I'd never have guessed it either, I headed for this area's shortcut point.

"Doesn't it seem like a jump right here would clear the gap?"

Double-checking the spot, I turned my character around, built up momentum with a running start, and jumped.

"Oh, there we go?"

The jump succeeded, and scanning my surroundings, there was a save point here too.

"Wow… my luck is unreal today, isn't it?"

Moving on and clearing out mobs of trash enemies along the way, the boss room finally came into view in the distance.

"That's the boss room, right?"

Leaving my grumbling viewers behind, I carved through the mobs blocking the path and made my way to the boss room.

No hulking frame, no monstrous visage — just a knight bearing a single sword. But for all that unassuming appearance, this boss was far trickier than the two who came before.

Because its attack timings ran off the off-beat.

Before my regression, I'd lost count of the times I'd tried to parry this rhythm only to get punished for it.

While I was briefly lost in memory, the cutscene ended — and the instant it did, the boss charged straight at me, thrusting its blade.

CLANG!

The parry landed. With a satisfyingly heavy ring, the knight's stance crumbled, and I drove my sword into its heart.

THUNK!

Again — and during the stagger while I withdrew the blade, I checked the chat.

…Nobody's even surprised anymore, huh.

Fair enough. By this point, adapting was the natural response.

Anyway — refocusing, I locked back onto the boss.

It looked like it was about to swing its sword diagonally, but that stance was the setup for this boss's signature move: the off-beat attack.

At the exact moment the boss seemed certain to bring the blade down, I raised my sword a touch high and struck a beat late, throwing off the rhythm.

CLANG!

"An off-beat, was it?"

But as I'd said before, this was an attack I'd eaten countless times — and I landed the parry with perfect timing.

THUNK!

Hm? Surprised this time, are we?

Solving a brand-new pattern on the first try must have genuinely stunned them.

From then on, every time the boss attacked off-beat I parried it down, thrust, and repeated the loop — until the knight toppled.

Shaving time off with shortcuts and felling the bosses one by one in sequence, before I knew it, only the final boss remained.

"Hmm… we're just past the four-hour mark, aren't we?"

Longer than I'd thought…

I must have lost time because I fought every boss instead of skipping them.

Well, this way was cleaner anyway.

It's not like anyone would beat my time.

Ah, right — the Western players had apparently caught wind of my stream through the community too, because there was quite a bit of English chat rolling by.

Not that I was deliberately ignoring it.

They did nothing but sling American meme slang, and even though my TOEIC and conversational English were decent back in the day, I couldn't make heads or tails of half of it.

About all I could parse were the easy ones like OMG and LOL.

"Well, the buzz factor at least is guaranteed."

Word was my stream was being watched overseas too — regardless of whether I understood the chat or not.

"I'm getting hungry, so I'll wrap this boss up fast, end stream, and go grab a late-night snack."

"What do you mean, 'mukbang.'"

Back when they were suggesting content ideas earlier too — why are they so obsessed with mukbangs?

You wouldn't see a single bite of food, just the sound of chewing.

Oh. Were they fishing for food ASMR?

…Given the streamer, the viewers had grown just like her. No wonder the build-ups kept coming.

Unfortunately for them — if I'd never realized it, it would've stayed unknown, but from the moment I caught on, the odds of a post-game mukbang dropped to zero.

"Anyway, shall we?"

The battle with the final boss had a monstrous HP pool, so it dragged on — but beyond that, it went down without much trouble.

"Clear!"

The all-night mission was complete, so I hit the mission success button.

"Huh? When did it get this big?"

Last time I checked it was around three million, wasn't it?

It was serious money, no question — but I figured I'd put on a performance today worthy of that figure, so it didn't weigh on me at all.

Whoa?! H-hold on! TEN?!

Isn't this a bit much to take in?!

After reeling from the frankly surreal sum, I finally registered the donor's name.

"Oh — Developer?"

Wait, what? Is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this the actual Shadow Soul developer?

Running a forensic autopsy to verify whether they were really the developer, the verdict came back:

Confirmed — the official account of the studio behind Shadow Soul.

Seriously?!

Well… fair enough. A user who never streams going for world first might slip by unnoticed, but a world first happening live on an active broadcast? There's no way they weren't watching…

"I appreciate it and all, but that's still profanity."

Hmm… I suppose I owe them a reaction, don't I?

Mulling over what reaction to give, I made my decision and opened my mouth.

"Hey. Developer."

Well, that much should count as a proper reaction, shouldn't it?

"Easy."

And with that parting word, I ended the stream.