Prove It
Before I regressed, the second half of 2024 had been dominated by one legendary line that swept the entire scene.
What was it, you ask?
The date was October 27, 2024.
On the narrow bridge of the Worlds semifinals, Gen.G and T1 collided.
At the time T1 sat as the absolute underdog, having lost ten straight to Gen.G, while Gen.G themselves looked invincible in the LCK yet somehow always faltered the moment they stepped onto the international stage. No one could call the match with any confidence.
Then the fateful day arrived.
Before the series began, a cinematic packed with both teams’ stories filled the screen, and fans across the globe watched, completely absorbed.
The final shot that closed it out:
The two mid laners stood side by side, and Faker spoke to Chovy.
One sentence that set the entire world on fire.
And right now I found myself in a situation that felt uncomfortably similar.
After handing Mist consecutive humiliations on the second Purge Day and soaring spectacularly, I was climbing toward the top when Mist, back on his feet, grabbed my ankle and clung on for dear life—carrying the heavy charge of “sniping a fellow streamer.”
In that position I had no choice but to prove it.
That the plays that crushed Mist had never been a proxy, that they had come entirely from my own two hands.
Devil’sProbe has been forcibly ejected.
Apparently related clips had already hit FM Community; the viewer count had been climbing steeply for a while now. The chat window was turning into pure chaos right along with it.
I watched the situation calmly, turning the gears in my head.
It already happened. If that’s the case, I might as well use what I can.
The anger had been brief. My streaming career still stretched long ahead of me. So stay cold, calculate, decide.
Getting sniped by Mist was absurd, but it had also pulled “all-time high” levels of aggro. Failing to turn an opportunity like this into content would simply mean I lacked talent.
In the time I had, I meticulously mapped out the optimal scenario and prepared to execute it. Roughly twenty minutes slipped by while I did.
Call someone else? Fat chance.
The time had simply gone into makeup and coordinating an outfit for the Half-Cam stream that was about to start.
Changing clothes is harder than planning the whole broadcast.
I spread various pieces across the bed, fretted over them, and finally just put the same outfit back on that I’d shown last time. Being a homebody meant I barely owned any clothes to begin with.
Before going live on Half-Cam I glanced at the participant list. Mist, set as manager, was still waiting right there in his spot.
Fine. If he wants proof, I’ll give him absolute proof.
I hit the button and switched to my stream’s signature waiting screen. Chat immediately grew even louder, realizing something was about to begin. A quick read of the mood showed it split roughly fifty-fifty. My existing fans and the virtual-streamer crowd were defending me; the Mist and Bad Potato Company fans who had flooded over, plus the floaters who hated no-cam streamers, were dead certain it was a proxy.
In the middle of that chaos I quietly took hold of the mic.
“Looks like some kind of festival’s going on today. Everyone pouring in and making this much noise… though I’m not sure it’s something to celebrate.”
The marketplace-level chat fell silent for a beat. That silence wouldn’t last, of course—especially with the toxic gallery rats who’d snuck in ready to manipulate the narrative.
I didn’t let the momentum slip and immediately revealed the cam feed.
“Prep took a little long, huh? I was dressed super casually, so cut me some slack.”
The first thing the screen showed was an ivory sweater softly wrapping my upper body. Its destructive power had already been proven on the previous Half-Cam. Being skin-toned, it only emphasized the mid-lane advantages that jutted out so boldly. And the waistline that flowed smoothly beneath it? Courtesy of the god of TS and regression himself, Ju-ttak of Pan-beo-gal—an outright broken figure. Seriously, how do you get a waist that size coexisting with a bust like this without surgery, just naturally?
A glance at chat showed that roughly half had already lost interest in the “proxy” drama. Instead they were losing their minds demanding face or legs.
Men really were sad animals, far too faithful to their instincts.
I killed the flood of Candy donation messages and alert sounds, took the mic again, and began calmly explaining the situation: the layout and results of today’s Purge Day, and finally Mist’s sudden snipe plus the proxy accusations.
“I don’t know what made Mist so furious, but he sniped me as a proxy, so I’m turning on Half-Cam right now to prove it. You keep talking about showing my face—let me say this again: I’m a virtual streamer. Half-Cam is more than enough to prove there’s no proxy; face is a completely separate issue. From this point on, anyone who deliberately spams that chat will be banned.”
My tone stayed even and measured, without a single hint of agitation—like someone reading a prepared speech at an important occasion. In other words, steady and natural enough that anyone watching would feel trust.
I laid out the method of proof: adjust the Half-Cam angle so both upper body and hands were visible, then face Mist one-on-one in Minecraft again under the exact same conditions as Purge Day. I even returned his full Netherite Gear set and told him to come at me.
“…….”
At this point it was all or nothing.
During the twenty minutes I’d spent setting up Half-Cam, Mist seemed to have regained some composure; the earlier rage was gone. But he also knew how merciless the price of throwing the first “snipe” as a streamer could be. If it truly turned out to be a proxy he might survive; if not, he was already dead on stream.
Realizing that, Mist fought like a man possessed. The second he finished equipping he charged at me with terrifying force.
“Hmph. Not a chance.”
There was no need to go easy for the sake of a story the way I had on Purge Day. I chugged potions from the start and met him head-on.
Time to prove it.
Even with high stats, if the control was garbage every attack would whiff and the same picture as before would never appear. Unfortunately for him, my control wasn’t that bad. I’d at least brushed Master tier once. On top of that I was already ahead in speed thanks to the Swiftness potions.
At first it looked almost even, then the fight turned completely one-sided. Mist’s health plummeted so fast he could only scramble to run instead of attack. In under twenty seconds his character was a cold corpse respawning at the bed.
“Th-that’s impossible.”
It simply couldn’t be. The shock was so great Mist denied what had just happened.
I shrugged for the Half-Cam and once again told him to pick up the gear still rolling on the ground.
“If you’re not convinced, we can go as many times as you want.”
“This time for real!”
Mist gritted his teeth and charged again, but miracles weren’t happening. He might have been a former pro gamer, but that was in League—was he a pro in Minecraft too? Minecraft wasn’t even that kind of game to begin with. He struggled against the overwhelming specs and then simply broke.
“Th-this is clearly a character difference! It’s a cheat character!”
If the conclusion landed on “not a proxy,” all that remained for Mist was hell and streaming death. In his panic he didn’t even realize how pathetic he looked as he latched onto a new condition.
“Hold on. I can’t just let that slide. I swear on the server owner’s honor—there are no cheat characters in Rena World.”
Rena-ttang, who had been sitting among the spectators the whole time, cut in with a solemn voice. The new escape route he’d barely managed to invent was blocked at the first step, and Mist’s mouth clamped shut; he froze solid. The usual swagger was nowhere to be found.
There was nothing more to say… and nothing left to pity either.
I walked slowly toward Mist’s character and spoke.
“I think that’s more than enough ‘proof.’ What else do you need?”
“…….”
No reaction from Mist’s character. By now he was probably too busy dealing with the chat that had already decided the narrative and gone nuclear.
Proxy, my ass.
I shrugged again for the Half-Cam, raised the Netherite sword, and called out:
“From the start that proxy nonsense was none of my business… and everyone, tomorrow at exactly noon a Christmas carol video drops on the V-Live YouTube channel. Lots of love~ lots of love~ Heave-ho!”
Thud—!
Seo-a’s sword ‘You’re a Noob’ cleaves Mist.
Happy ending.