Face Reveal and the Fantastic—No, the Insane Catch Mind

Taking drastic measures against the blazing chat window worked—thankfully—and the flood of messages quieted down at a rapid clip.

Vulgar moans still kept popping up like people were getting railed by imaginary dicks, but it was still a massive improvement over a few minutes ago.

Confirming it was safe to actually run the stream, I cleared my throat with a little cough and slowly opened my mouth.

"Honestly, I was going to just skip today's stream too, but I've got some major news I need to tell you all, so I turned it on this late."

Watching the chat stir at that blatantly bait-y "major news" line, I smiled like a sly little fox and continued.

"I actually got a normal sponsorship for once. Wait—not 'for once.' Is this the first one? Anyway, a game company reached out about an ad."

Looking closer, the game had a loli-mama thing going on that absolutely should not exist—a hard taboo—but it was still plenty more normal than the ads other companies had thrown at me, so I decided to package it as a legitimate sponsorship for now.

"It's less of an ad and more that I have to do a one-year anniversary stream, but I got so happy about landing my first real sponsorship that I just wanted to say it. Why is this major news, you ask?"

The viewers started spamming chat like angry monkeys, demanding to know how getting an ad counted as major news. I answered them in a calm, even voice.

"Because that's when I'm planning to do a face reveal—just once—the thing you've all been begging for. You'll all show up in droves, right?"

I snickered, teasing them, and sure enough the chat window ignited even harder than before.

This time, at least, it was in a good way.

I was sitting there grinning at the viewers' delighted reactions when one of them finally couldn't take it anymore. He dropped a massive donation and begged me to at least give them a little taste.

...Burning the price of a full commission just to see part of my face.

In his own way, this guy was kind of incredible. Given that level of dedication, I figured I should at least flash them something for a second.

But showing it was one thing.

"The wording on that is nasty as hell, you freak. Mishear that and it's sexual harassment, for fuck's sake."

"Smear campaign my ass. You think I don't know my own chat? That's clearly imagination-jerking, you pervert bastard!"

With the chat spiraling into pure insanity, I slowly tilted the cam up—just high enough that my ears stayed out of frame.

Then I looked down at the camera with pure contempt and whispered,

"Pervert bastard. Kindly go outside and die."

I snapped the cam back down just as fast, putting my chest back on display. The chat froze solid for a beat—then the claw emotes started flooding in like mad.

Exactly the delicious, magnificent reaction I'd expected—but I addressed the viewers in a serious voice.

"That just now was nothing more than a simple broadcast accident, understood? Even if someone clipped it, you have to keep it to yourself for private viewing only, okay?"

Fortunately, it seemed I'd properly enchanted every single viewer this time—nobody was talking about reposting the clip.

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Of course, I'd still have to keep an eye on that.

I briefly froze the endlessly blazing chat, then started wrangling the viewers so we could move on to the next segment.

"Alright, face-reveal bait ends here. From this point on, face-reveal bait gets you banned—same as always."

I gave you what you asked for, didn't I? So this time, you do what I'm asking.

"I will ban you with zero mercy, so don't try it and then cry about getting banned. If you understand, we're jumping straight into the next content!"

I picked up my tablet pen and pulled up a Catch Mind game on screen.

Catch Mind.

A dead-simple game where you draw a given word and make other people guess it.

The reason I'd picked this as today's content was a single video I'd watched on Latube.

A streamer who drew so godawfully badly that the viewers mercilessly roasted every single sketch—and those same viewers desperately trying to interpret the garbage drawings and somehow get them right.

The synergy from that fantastic combo had left a deep impression on me, and I'd sworn that someday, when the chance came, I'd run it on my own stream.

But today.

The moment I launched Catch Mind and actually played it, I was forced to confront a harsh reality.

"You absolute dick-for-brains—how the hell are you getting these right on sight?"

The problem was that my viewers were way too good at reading abstract drawings.

I'd deliberately gone abstract to crank up the difficulty, and my degenerate audience still nailed every answer like it was nothing.

Fuck.

I drew a wolf tail—how did they know it was anal beads?

I drew a single lonely line and some bastard still called vibrator. What even is that guy?

I drew nothing but a cat paw pad and somehow the answer that came back was bestiality?

Has my brain been hacked? For real?

I let out a dazed groan at the dizzying situation, and the viewers seemed to share the sentiment, spitting out their own awe.

"Honestly, I'm scared too. How did you get every single one of those?"

I shook my head in disbelief and, for the next drawing, sketched a single rounded curve—and the correct answer came flying in like they'd been waiting for it.

Ding-dong-ding!

The cheerful correct-answer chime rang out through a room that had gone dead silent.

Clutching my spinning head, I asked the viewers,

"Did I not just draw a single stroke? How the hell did you get that? It could've been something other than tits, you pervert bastards."

I spoke with the contempt reserved for non-recyclable trash, but one of the viewers fired off a donation and mocked me through TTS.

"Maybe the one who thought that was a basic 1-point question is the real super-degenerate? Have some shame, please..."

"Then let's just say everyone here is a degenerate."

Except me. I'm clearly a person of normal sexual appetites.

And so it went—the next problem, and the one after that. The viewers were locking in correct answers before I could even finish two or three strokes. I set my tablet pen down on the desk for a moment, marveling at their gentlemanly prowess.

Truly magnificent gentleman bastards. You never, ever let me down.

What kind of drawing would it take to stop these incredible degenerates from getting the answer?

And how do I make them spiral into self-loathing on their own?

After a brief moment of thought, I decided to deploy special measures against the viewers.

"From now on, I'm going all out. Come at me, you degenerate bastards."