I Turned On the Stream After the Heavenly Demon Appeared
My clone raised her sword once more.
The moment she lifted it, an indescribable pressure wrapped around me. My peripheral vision vanished, and all that remained in my sight was her blade.
I shook my head and forced the pressure down. At first it had completely scrambled my thoughts, but I was starting to get used to it.
Then the Heavenly Demon's expression shifted again. Something had surprised her once more.
Now.
This was my chance.
Whoosh—!
I thrust my wooden sword straight at her.
It was a clean stab aimed right at her solar plexus.
Of course, it still wasn't a perfect thrust. It was clumsy. But it was fast — thanks to the Single Body Art.
In an instant, the wooden sword shot toward her chest.
Even then, she remained completely at ease. She simply flicked her own wooden sword and deflected my thrust.
Deflected wasn't quite the right word — she redirected it.
My blade slid harmlessly out of range, as if it had skated off ice.
She's ridiculous.
The silver lining was that I'd expected exactly this. Because I'd recovered my sword quickly, I avoided the counterattack.
I reset my stance and pressed the attack again.
I was the one doing most of the attacking. My clone fought almost entirely on the defensive.
The side!
This time I slashed at her ribs.
Whoosh—!
It didn't land. Once again, the Heavenly Demon casually turned my attack aside.
But I'd accounted for that too.
I have to force the opening wide enough to exploit.
I wasn't just swinging wildly without a plan. Sure, I'd started that way. But after a few sparring sessions, things had changed.
Right now, there was a faint gap near the left side of the Heavenly Demon's neck.
It was an extremely slight opening. If I attacked it directly, it still wouldn't work.
But what if I kept widening that gap?
Then it might actually land.
So I deliberately structured my attacks with her left neck in mind. More precisely, I attacked everywhere except that spot, disrupting her focus and fraying her attention.
It was delicate work. And if I avoided the weak point too obviously, she might catch on. So every so often I brushed near it — just enough to sell the bluff.
Whoosh—!
Clack—!
I kept repeating that meticulous process. It was exhausting and difficult. I couldn't even count how many times our swords had clashed just to create this one opening.
And then, at last, the chance arrived.
Now!
The gap had just yawned wide open.
If I stabbed the left side of her neck from this position, even she would struggle to defend.
I tightened my grip on the sword.
Not too hard — just firm enough. Then I prepared to drive it forward. Landing this was going to feel incredible.
But in that exact instant—
I flinched.
A bad feeling hit me out of nowhere. More precisely, an inexplicable sense of danger.
There's no way the Heavenly Demon doesn't know what I'm doing.
The thought struck me cold.
I immediately abandoned the attack.
And threw myself backward.
Whoosh—!
A wooden sword whistled past my throat by a hair's breadth.
It was that close.
If my judgment had been even a fraction slower, I'd have been clutching my neck and rolling across the floor.
"W-wait! Let's take a break!"
I called the spar to a halt. Cold sweat poured down my face. The Heavenly Demon really was the Heavenly Demon. I'd never imagined she'd reverse my own setup and turn it against me.
She's completely insane.
But something felt off.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
Strangely, my clone's eyes were wide open. Wider than I'd ever seen them.
"…You dodged that?"
"Nah, I just got lucky."
"Lucky, you say?"
"Yeah. I suddenly got this awful feeling, so I pulled back."
"…I see. So this is what they call innate talent."
She nodded to herself, then broke into a satisfied smile. She seemed genuinely pleased that I'd dodged her sword.
"That will be enough for today. This should be sufficient."
"Whew. Really?"
I exhaled and dropped into a seat. Sparring drained both stamina and mental energy at a brutal rate. Without the Single Body Art, I never would have lasted this long.
"You learn faster than I expected."
"Yeah? Is that a good thing?"
"Yes. At this pace, it shouldn't take long before you can establish the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult."
"Ahem."
I coughed awkwardly. Come to think of it, getting strong too quickly wasn't ideal either. I'd completely forgotten about that.
I changed the subject.
"Oh, right. I'm going to stream a bit later — want to join me?"
It was the first time I'd ever directly invited my clone onto a broadcast.
Of course, she turned me down.
"My apologies. I still have martial training to complete."
"Ah, right."
Come to think of it, she'd said Earth's qi was sparse. That meant even the Heavenly Demon herself struggled to train here.
On top of that, she had to teach me. She probably barely had enough time for her own cultivation.
I put on a disappointed face.
"Well, can't be helped. Keep training. I'm gonna go get ready for the stream."
"Understood."
Moments later she closed her eyes and settled into a seated posture, clearly diving into serious martial practice.
I slipped carefully out of the room so I wouldn't disturb her.
Whew. Good thing she said no.
Honestly, streaming with my clone was exhausting for me too. I'd only asked out of politeness. I'd fully expected the rejection.
Shower first.
I'd clean up, then go live.
Conveniently, it was seven in the evening — a perfect time slot for streaming.
Why am I so nervous?
It had been a while since my last broadcast. And my standing now was completely different from before. I was genuinely curious how everyone would react.
I finally went live.
The stream title was nothing special.
[It's Been a While]
If anything, it was almost lazy.
But the reaction was explosive.
Chat was pure chaos.
Even at the peak of my career, the reaction had never been this explosive. It was almost hard to believe.
Current Viewers: 10,564
And after just a short wait in the lobby, we'd already broken ten thousand viewers. The momentum was insane.
I barely managed to keep the corners of my mouth from curling up. I felt fantastic. Moments like this made it pretty clear I enjoyed the attention more than I liked to admit.
"Ahem. It's been a while, everyone. Hope you've all been well?"
I'd barely said a single sentence and the questions flooded in like a press conference.
"I'll get to everything in time. For now, the Heavenly Demon is doing martial training."
Honestly, everyone already knew my clone was the Heavenly Demon. Releasing that much information didn't matter at all.
At this rate, are we going to hit thirty thousand?
The energy was overwhelming. I'd expected a good response, but nothing this intense.
And the donations poured in. Not just donations — paid subscriptions too.
"Ah! Thank you! Really appreciate the support!"
Honestly, I didn't need to rely on donations anymore. I could make money in the dungeons.
But donations still felt strangely good. That was just a streamer thing, I supposed.
"Huh?! A million won?! Holy crap! Cha Inseong just dropped a million— wait. Isn't Cha Inseong a streamer?"
Out of nowhere, some streamer had just donated a million won.
"Junior? Do streamers even do that kind of— oh!"
Then it clicked. Cha Inseong was an Awakened. Same case as me, basically.
So he's only introducing himself now.
Until now, no junior Awakened had ever come to greet me. Everyone had treated me like a stranger.
But the moment I got famous, they started lining up to say hello.
"Well, we don't really need to do the whole senior-junior thing… but I appreciate the greeting."
Still, I let it slide gracefully.
And no — it wasn't because of how much he'd donated. Absolutely not.
Ahem.
It was more that I didn't want to come off like some stuffy old-timer.
Awakened ranking each other by seniority already feels kind of boomer-ish.
Normally, Awakened didn't bother with senior-junior hierarchies at all. That just wasn't a thing.
But streaming culture was different. Among Awakened streamers especially, a lot of them clung hard to that seniority system.
Somehow the culture had taken root, and it was absolutely a toxic habit.
Then again — maybe it was because Cha Inseong had broken the ice?
Awakened streamers' donations came pouring in.
At least five of them donated like this. In the blink of an eye, I'd made five million won.
My mouth started twitching upward again. Just moments ago I'd been calling this a toxic seniority culture — and somehow I was already starting to like it.
I snapped myself out of it. This was absolutely a bad habit that needed to die.
Still, giving the money back felt a little awkward. So I settled for a simple thank-you.
"Thank you, everyone! You really didn't have to do this… I'll come visit you all sometime."
Of course, I had no idea when that "sometime" would actually be. It might take another ten years.
Either way, I'd kicked the stream off on a high note. In the opening stretch alone, I'd pulled in roughly seven million won in donations. It was easily an all-time record.