I Said I Wouldn't Run

Didn't I tell you I wouldn't run?

Jung River kept the stream going. The viewers held onto him, pleading for more, but truth be told, he hated the very thought of looking like a coward who cut and ran. To boldly proclaim he would never run away, only to flip his story the moment fatigue crept in? In front of hundreds of watching eyes, he simply couldn't stomach doing something so pathetic.

At first, the chat had watched him with sheer amusement. A guy with so much wounded pride that, even while clearly half-dead on his feet, he gritted his teeth and stubbornly held the line? Veteran livestream viewers were intimately familiar with the type. They usually started out full of stubborn spite, only to fold like a cheap tent once a few hours passed.

"Man, I'm way too wiped out to keep going. Let me get a quick nap, then we'll continue."

"If I didn't have an appointment tomorrow, I swear I'd see this through to the very end."

"Guys, I'm seriously dying here. My throat hurts so bad, too."

They would rattle off every excuse under the sun before smashing that end-stream button. We were living in an era where taking a nap during a marathon stream—even a strict "until cleared" or "no-sign-off" broadcast—had become entirely normalized.

At the start, the crowd had gathered purely to fling vitriol. With the playthrough running past the thirty-hour mark, the viewer demographic had naturally shifted, yet even the current regulars had hurled insults at first. When someone publicly trashed a game you loved, polite words were hardly the default response, and the mob mentality had dictated the room's temperature. Newcomers drawn in by the Neo Chronicle tag had simply fallen into step with the prevailing hostility.

As the hours slipped away, however, the atmosphere transformed entirely.

Here was a streamer giving the lore of their beloved game dozens of hours of meticulous, unyielding attention. Whatever dumb mistakes he had made out of initial ignorance were now ancient history. The chat window appeared to hold only two varieties of people: those genuinely worried for Jung River's physical health, and those utterly enthralled by the story alongside him.

"Does a game—no, an online MMORPG—seriously have any business pulling this kind of shit?!"

Because the tone had shifted, his outbursts were welcomed rather than condemned. In fact, the audience nodded right along with his venom.

Glancing at the scroll of text, Jung River shrieked, "Who doesn't know there was foreshadowing?! I mean, couldn't the boss have just dropped a generic villain line like 'You've outlived your usefulness' and struck her down?! Did it have to be like this?! Why did they go out of their way—out of their goddamn way—to make me butcher her with my own hands?! What kind of rotten, twisted sadist wrote this?!"

Irene had stood as the protagonist's steadfast ally since Chapter 1. Having his own player character forced into executing a secondary figure he had grown so genuinely fond of was unbearable. Jung River's bloodshot eyes burned an even deeper crimson, shimmering with unshed tears after pouring out such raw, unbridled emotion.

"No, seriously... ah, this is just foul. Too cruel, honestly."

He rubbed dry hands vigorously over his exhausted face before finally gripping his mouse once more.

"Let's just go put that boss into the dirt. Morgana, or whatever. I don't know why a dude is rocking a girl's name, but he's an intolerable bastard regardless."

Huffing with indignation, Jung River plunged ahead with the questline. Whenever he sank an arrow squarely into the boss's hitbox, his enthusiasm was palpable. And when the beast finally collapsed, he sprang straight out of his chair, throwing his arms out in a comical imitation of Erling Haaland's goal celebration.

"That was for Irene! Payback in full! Ugh, I swear, I want to resurrect this punk just to beat him into pulp all over again!"

He was still riding that high, bantering excitedly at the camera, when the cinematic cutscene triggered.

On screen, the fallen boss stirred, staggering upright in one final, desperate struggle.

"Wait, wait? What are you doing?! Just drop dead! Please, just stay down and die! I'm sorry! I take back what I said, so just die already!"

A terrifying maelstrom of dark energy erupted outward from the boss's shattered torso.

"Stop your bullshit! Stop it, stop it, stop talking out of your ass, please!"

"No! No, please! I swear I won't run my mouth anymore!"

Just as the bursting torrent of darkness surged to engulf everything in sight, a brilliant, sacred radiance descended to hold it at bay. The virtual camera tilted upward in a slow, dramatic sweep, centering on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the figure stepping forward.

It was Victoria Ash—the NPC he had shown the deepest affection for across the entire campaign.

A line of lore he had read hours ago surfaced unbidden in his mind, and he murmured it in a trembling whisper.

"The heir of House Ash is like the phoenix, bound to..."

"No... wait, that's not true, right?"

Jung River stared fixedly at the monitor, his Adam's apple bobbing with a sharp gulp. In that same heartbeat, the chat feed erupted in a frantic, multidirectional scramble.

Some threw themselves wholeheartedly into the narrative tragedy. Others relentlessly clowned on Jung River, while still more simply reveled in how violently he was melting down. In that very instant, his concurrent viewership crested at an all-time high.

Anyone glancing at the broadcast directory could see it a mile away: this was the exact climax where the streamer was guaranteed to have the most extreme, unhinged reaction.

"N-No, come on. This isn't right. There were so many hints about how to prevent the sacrifice! You threw out all that foreshadowing just to have her die anyway?! Don't give me this bullshit!"

Having repelled the darkness, Victoria Ash began to crumble, starting from her fingertips. A solemn gust swept across the field, scattering crystalline shards and luminous powder into the wind.

"Stop it! Someone stop her! Where did that dumb brat go?! He can summon that wind-manipulating beast, can't he?! Why isn't he summoning it right now?!"

Mid-scream, Jung River clamped both hands over his own mouth. A haunting, melancholic melody had begun to swell in the background. As the mournful notes washed over him, a ragged groan leaked past his trembling fingers.

"Maybe... maybe scattering like this is better for her after all."

The glittering fragments of Victoria Ash's form drifted away in shimmering motes, blowing across the bloodstained plains, past the mountains, and beyond the distant horizon. And as he bore witness to the sight, something inside Jung River completely snapped.

"Hic... yeah. This is right. I was... I was just being stupid. This is the way it should be. The destiny of the phoenix? Screw that. Sniff... rather than being reborn only to burn into ash all over again, this is... this is so much better..."

Muttering deliriously to himself, he collapsed face-first onto his desk and burst into full-blown, wailing sobs. Great, convulsive heaves racked his shoulders, and all the webcam captured was the rhythmic shudder of his bent back.

Naturally, the chat room turned into an absolute carnival.

Even after the cutscene faded to black, Jung River continued to weep his heart out for a solid five minutes before going completely silent. All that remained in the webcam frame was the empty headrest of his gaming chair.

Eventually, accompanied by a loud, wet sniffle, he raised his head. His eyes, swollen like ripe plums, looked out toward the game screen. Rendered before him was a grassy knoll—the very hill where Victoria Ash had once confessed she wished to build a quiet cottage and live out her days.

"Ah, damn it..."

Jung River reached up, tilted the webcam slightly toward the ceiling so only his forehead showed, and resumed playing.

"My tears really won't stop, so I'm just gonna leave the cam like this for a bit."

Ignoring the chat clamoring for him to pull the camera back down, he soldiered through the final quest steps. Reading the epilogue lines through ragged sniffles, he laid a bouquet of wildflowers atop her grave marker.

And with that, his grueling thirty-eight-hour odyssey drew to a close.

Leaving his character seated silently upon the windswept hill, Jung River poured out his lingering heartache to the stream.

"Vicky was just so pitiful. All she ever did her entire life was fight battles she never wanted, and just when she finally found someone she loved..."

"The developers are honestly too heartless. Why dangle that hope in front of us? Why create lore about hiding along the World's Boundary to save her if they were just going to do this anyway?!"

After venting back and forth with his audience for a while longer, he pushed himself up from his chair.

"Give me a second. I need to go wash my face."

When Jung River returned, the sheer exhaustion clung to his features like a shroud. Splashing cold water had cleared his head, but his physical stamina had run completely dry. Having endured nearly two full days under intense, unyielding focus, he looked as though he had visibly lost weight.

"Phew... that was the Neo Chronicle story. I think I finally understand why you guys love it so much."

He stood up again. Though the sturdy young man swayed slightly on his feet, he straightened his posture and bent low in a deep, respectful bow.

"Once again, I sincerely apologize. To anyone who plays this game with deep affection, my earlier words must have been hurtful. I'm truly sorry."

The response from the chat, however, caught him entirely off guard.

They brushed it off as if it were nothing at all—conveniently forgetting how they had swarmed into his channel foaming at the mouth just hours prior. Feeling the last vestiges of his strength leave his body, Jung River planted a steadying palm against his desk.

"I'd love to share my full, detailed review with you all, but I'm just too completely spent right now. Thirty-eight hours straight... I have zero energy left. Man, I can barely form coherent sentences."

He paused, gathering his breath.

"Anyway, I'm going to get some rest. Sometime tomorrow, or... whenever I wake up and get my stamina back, I'll turn the stream back on."

Watching the warm, encouraging words flood the screen, a sense of quiet accomplishment swelled in his chest. Jung River looked straight into the camera lens and flashed a tired, triumphant grin.

"I told you, didn't I? I never run away."

With that final parting shot, the broadcast went dark. A man battered by sheer fatigue, yet smiling with unshakeable confidence—that lingering parting image could not help but leave a deep, indelible impression on everyone watching.

The remaining 1,104 viewers lingered in the dark chat room for a brief while, chatting idly about how this whole affair hadn't required such an extreme trial, how he hadn't deserved so much hate in the first place, and everything in between. But the chat didn't loiter for long.

The time of sign-off was 7:00 PM. It was the golden hour when daytime streamers handed off the torch to the prime-time night broadcasts—a window where virtually every channel across the platform was live. In other words, it was the prime time for the countless reaction clips clipped from Jung River's marathon to spread like wildfire.

This proved especially true on OnAiri, the premier streaming hub with the most vibrant Neo Chronicle community. There, the clips rippled outward at terrifying speed.

Whether the broadcast was a modest personal room or a massive flagship channel, Jung River's clips permeated virtually every Neo Chronicle stream on the platform. And why wouldn't they? It had been ages since the community had seen a fresh newbie dive into the campaign and savor every single drop of the narrative so completely. Watching a novice relish the exact emotional beats they had experienced long ago was an irresistible spectator sport. Furthermore, most veteran streamers were grizzled old-timers themselves—and to an old hand, watching a newcomer lose their mind in real time was the pinnacle of entertainment.

The clips didn't stop there. They continued to propagate outward, eventually reaching broadcasts of streamers who had long since graduated from Neo Chronicle to variety gaming.

The streamer watched the video before glancing down at her chat's reaction. Having successfully escaped the RPG grind to become a solidly established mid-tier variety streamer, Neluna was one of the platform's rare prominent female variety hosts—and even her channel was now playing host to Jung River's clips.

"Wow, he really threw himself into it," Neluna remarked, genuinely impressed. "He caught almost all the major plot seeds, didn't he? Wait, seriously? It took him thirty-four ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hours to hit Chapter 8? Whoa... and he did that without ending the stream once?"

When she voiced her astonishment, the chat quickly filled her in on the backstory.

"Seriously? Sounds like he crossed paths with the wrong toxic crowd."

Having summarized the drama, she effortlessly pivoted into lore talk.

"The clues he mentioned could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠definitely look like hints to save Victoria, but if you look closer into the subtext, that was never an option. If you trace the main narrative trunk, everything hinges on the rule that the prophecy revealed in Chapter 2 is completely unavoidable. So from that starting premise..."

A torrential flood of excessive, granular lore poured from her mouth. On almost any other broadcast, viewers would have recoiled in horror from such an impenetrable information dump. On Neluna's channel, however, at least half the audience actively relished this sort of deep-dive lore analysis.

As she rattled off theories while keeping an eye on the chat's enthusiastic responses, a sudden thought struck her.

Wait... wouldn't this make an incredible Meetube video? It doesn't seem like inviting him on would trigger any backlash, either.