Lu Bu's Body with Zhuge Liang's Brain
Maybe I'm someone with an excessive craving for recognition? The thought suddenly hit me.
The reason I started streaming was to avoid the future where Night Rise shut down. But that wasn't all I wanted. Just that alone wasn't enough—hell, it was pretty damn weak—as motivation to pour a whole year into Night Rise. So yeah, I had some expectations. Pretty big ones, actually.
What if I dodged that shutdown future and helped grow the game bit by bit? Wouldn't the devs recognize me then? Offer a partner streamer deal, or at least some ads? Proof that streamer Merhen was something truly special in Night Rise. The people who made this game I loved so much acknowledging me. How sweet would that story be?
...Well, it flopped anyway.
Anyway, I figured it was just wishful thinking born from a reward psychology. Fair compensation for all my efforts to save Night Rise. "I've worked this hard, so I deserve at least this much," that kind of mindset.
But lately, I've been drowning in praise and recognition from people. And now I'm craving even more. That's made me start thinking maybe the goals I chased—and failed at—weren't really about rewards after all.
Craving recognition... Yeah, that tracks. No denying it. I can kinda guess why it's so over-the-top for me.
So when the hell can I shake this excessive need? If I'd stopped Night Rise's shutdown and become its partner streamer, would that have killed it completely? Eh, who knows. I failed, after all.
But luckily, I found a new game I like. Not quite on Night Rise's level, but I'm starting to get attached. So I'm opening my heart and diving in passionately one more time. And this round, I'm grabbing that recognition I missed out on.
I'll be Raider's partner streamer before anyone else. To do that, I need to claim a spot in Raider that's more special than anyone's.
First step—
"I'm gonna kill you."
I muttered it as I opened my eyes. What I saw was my computer screen with Raider running. And since the stream was on, the chat window filling up fast.
I'd closed my eyes, cranked some focus music to burn my fighting spirit, and meditated a bit. But the viewers didn't get the depth of it. Oh well, par for the course.
I cleared my throat and dropped my prepared opening line.
"Yep, it's Merhen here, taking down that cocky boss ignoring all sense of level difference and claiming the top spot among millions of Raider players."
Not what I meant. Time to clear up the misunderstanding.
"In the future, Raider will definitely have millions of players, right? If I'm the only one who clears the boss in CBT? No one's cleared it in CBT across past, present, or future—so yeah, I'll be above all those millions."
"Originally, I planned to train till CBT day 6, then angle for the clear on the last day. But I didn't wanna risk someone sniping first clear glory, so I bumped up the schedule."
That's why I grinded rhythm games two days straight for boss prep, and now on CBT day 5, it's go time.
I prepped thoroughly for today. Bought chocolate for brain sugar to fight fatigue, eye drops from the pharmacy for eye strain. Energy drinks to shake off tiredness, even a short nap just in case. Didn't eat much—half portions to avoid food coma. Snatched image training sessions with eyes closed here and there.
Where there's a will, there's a way, right? Heaven's gotta be moved by my dedication. Today's the day for results.
"Alright, first lemme tweak the party. Not a big deal—just swapping one character."
Said it as I yanked Iva, the shield tank, from the party window. Shields suck against enemies that don't parry.
So what's the efficient pick? No real deliberation. I already had the plan.
I brushed off the doubts with a chill laugh.
"...Alright, strat time."
So the super confident Merhen who said that got oneshot by the boss four times.
Over four attempts, Merhen whittled the boss down to about 40% HP. But viewers weren't betting on an easy clear.
First run, she shaved off 60%—huge achievement. After that? Meh results. The fourth try showed promise, but a new pattern popped and she settled for roughly matching the first run.
Focus slipping. Had to be.
Merhen sighed, shoved five chocolates in her mouth, chomped 'em down, and chased with an energy drink. Chat kept rolling meanwhile.
Game advice starting to trickle in. Bad flow. Could rattle Merhen's mentality if it snowballs.
But her face didn't twitch. Eye drops in, yawn, casual stretch. Like she was dead certain she'd win—
"Think I've got it all figured out now. Time to end this."
—That vibe.
Fifth attempt. Controlling the protagonist.
Boss charges at Merhen. Sniper pattern for ranged threats—even at distance. She rolls to dodge, like always.
Second hit incoming. No roll needed this time—dash key alone evades. Four runs taught her the attack range.
Impossible she couldn't exploit the gaps.
Lands in the safe spot post-second attack—protagonist ult fires. Light splits the world. Follows with skills, then swaps to Sara, the spear wielder, no hesitation.
Emotionless beauty faces the giant foe. No expression change.
The emotionless girl controlled by the ever-smiling girl. Dodges flawlessly. So clean it erases belief in those four deaths.
Like prey mouse toying with predator cat, naturally.
Merhen's fingers fly nonstop. Not random—random would've failed run five already.
Sara dodges, unloads ult and skills. Swap again.
Next: Natasha. Same dodge, same dump skills and ult.
Monotonous strat on paper. But no one executing or watching feels that way.
How much time passed? Some viewers clock the weirdness.
Swap timings mesh perfectly with skill cooldowns. Ult cooldowns too.
Once or twice? Coincidence. But dozens? No way.
Viewers who got it spill the truth in chat, enlightening everyone naturally.
Battle ain't over. But everyone feels it. This run's different.