Even the Veterans Can't Stop the Heavenly Demon

Perhaps it was because of his impressive performance over the past few days.

The broadcast had only just begun, yet the chat window was already overflowing with people who had been waiting and those who had rushed in after seeing the live notification. The viewer count had already surpassed eighteen thousand.

Considering the previous stream had peaked at over fifty thousand, this was more than a fifty-percent drop. Still, Myeong-yun had already heard about it from Sang-hyun and expected as much.

Looking at it positively, it meant nearly twenty thousand people were tuning in even when he wasn’t playing Narak.

When I last checked, the Twitter follower count had passed three hundred and thirty thousand, and YouTube had exceeded five hundred thousand.

Even combined, the numbers still hadn’t reached half of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s followers from his previous life. There was still a long road ahead.

Thanks to that realization, he didn’t particularly care whether the audience was large or small.

Myeong-yun read through the rapidly scrolling messages and smiled softly. Maybe it was because they were all wearing the mask of anonymity, but everyone was expressing themselves so boldly that it was genuinely amusing.

These were reactions he had never seen from the believers of his past life. They had always remained silent in his presence, only speaking when absolutely necessary. Of course, the fact that opening their mouths at the wrong time could result in their heads (literally) flying off probably had something to do with it.

He had raised the minimum donation amount to one hundred thousand won specifically to discourage unnecessary messages, yet people were throwing the money away like it was nothing, spamming whatever they wanted to say.

“StableKeeper, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if you have money to pay your tithe, use it to upgrade the feed instead. This Seat must manage the horses properly so that the cult members can follow without issue.”

“Murim Alliance Flunky? Hmm. This Seat does not believe his skill requires acknowledgment from the likes of you. The Murim Alliance’s mutt is getting above himself.”

“And as for you, beggar from the Open Beggar Clan. The gates to join the Heavenly Demon Cult are always open. Stop thinking about begging and join the cult to acquire yourself a proper occupation.”

By the time he finished answering each donation one by one, thirty minutes had already flown by.

Sang-hyun sent him a private message saying it was time to start the game.

“That is enough casual conversation. Let us now depart for another world.”

When Myeong-yun flicked his finger with a light snap, countless game titles floated up just like when he played Narak, orbiting around him.

“This too was decided after discussion with the Grand Strategist. Since everyone keeps debating This Seat’s skill level…”

He reached out and snatched one of the flying titles from the air.

After checking the title he had grabbed, Myeong-yun released it again.

“Not this one.”

Everything up to this point had been scripted. It was Sang-hyun’s idea to make Myeong-yun seem more approachable to the viewers.

Myeong-yun smiled and snatched another title.

This time the title image appeared largely behind him for everyone to see.

Dead by Deadmoonlight. Often shortened to DbD.

A 1-versus-4 asymmetrical tag-style horror game. It was the spiritual successor to the once-popular Dead by Daylight, inheriting its systems and reborn as a virtual reality title.

“This Seat shall take on the role of the killer today and slaughter every single one without exception.”

Myeong-yun and Sang-hyun had chosen Dead by Deadmoonlight as the next game precisely because there were still people downplaying his skills despite what he had shown in Narak.

There were those who sneered that beating mere AIs was nothing to brag about. People who had no interest in understanding and only wanted to tear him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down.

Myeong-yun himself didn’t mind, but Sang-hyun insisted they needed to flatten those people’s noses, and so he had recommended this game. He claimed that with skills superior to a computer, Myeong-yun could slice through even the most veteran DbD players.

“Right then. Let us begin.”

Myeong-yun launched Dead by Deadmoonlight.

Eerie background music. A faint laugh coming from somewhere. A heavy thud followed by sharp white claw marks engraved on a black screen.

With the tag #PsychologicalHorror attached to it, the fear factor in DbD had become even more realistic after its release as a virtual reality game.

Since it was his first time logging in, a tutorial automatically began the moment Myeong-yun reached the main screen.

It was an omniscient view of the game’s progression meant to help players understand the basic mechanics.

Myeong-yun watched the miniature map and moving character models, quickly absorbing how the game worked.

Fundamentally, it was a 1v4 asymmetrical game. The killer, who had a higher base movement speed than the survivors, had to strike them, capture them, and then hang them by the neck on the round hooks installed throughout the map.

As time passed, the hooks would tighten around the survivors’ necks. The only ways to escape were an extremely low chance of self-unhooking or being rescued by someone else.

The survivors had to buy time however they could, repair all five generators scattered across the map, open the exit gates, and escape.

“Understood. So I simply need to kill them all before the gates open.”

“Then let us try it immediately.”

The moment the tutorial ended and Myeong-yun queued as killer, a campfire appeared before his eyes. Five seats had been prepared around the bonfire.

Myeong-yun took one of the seats and waited. Before long, the other chairs were all filled.

The survivors greeted one another, chatting noisily as they sized each other up since the killer’s face wasn’t visible yet. They seemed to be building rapport before the game began.

After observing the survivors, Myeong-yun spoke.

“All of you look rather pale. It seems this is your first time.”

Myeong-yun chuckled and selected his killer.

There were four killers available for first-time players.

Since the viewers all had different opinions, it seemed any choice would be entertaining. After reading every character description, Myeong-yun made his selection.

“Let us try this one.”

A wolf mask stained with black blood covered Myeong-yun’s face. His physique grew massive, his nails lengthened into sharp claws, and thick fur sprouted along his arms. A belt holding five daggers appeared around his waist.

“His name is… Langsu. Wolf Hunter.”

The chat was practically in festival mode, excited that he had chosen one of the more difficult killers. They seemed curious to see whether he could handle the Wolf Hunter well.

“It has been a while since I practiced throwing blade techniques.”

Myeong-yun drew one of the daggers from his belt, lightly tossed it upward, and caught it again. He spun it skillfully across his fingers, gripping the blade precisely, then slid it back into its sheath.

The viewers spammed question marks after watching him manipulate the dagger as if it were an extension of his own limb.

Nevertheless, most still believed the survivors were the stronger side. A big-spender viewer who judged that a PvP beginner like Myeong-yun was at a disadvantage even posted a mission.

Games were more fun with missions like this. Since Myeong-yun agreed, he had left missions open for today, and a perfect one had arrived.

The corner of his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mouth lifted slightly as he spoke.

“I wonder if any of you have ever heard of the Heavenly Demon Throwing Blade Technique.”

It looked like tonight’s family dinner could be something expensive.

And with that, the game began.