A Sniper's Twisted Delusion
"If we queue up right now, the timing should be perfect, right?"
"Roger that."
The stream sniper, whose username was HanyaWhoLostHerRoots, gave a half-hearted reply to his sniping partner as he clicked the queue button.
The match popped almost instantly. A moment later, a familiar username appeared on the opposing team. The sniper muttered in a satisfied voice, "We're in."
"Told you so. It's all about the timing, and my timing is impeccable. I've got five years of stream sniping under my belt, you know—"
The sniper tuned out his partner's proud boasting filtering through his headphones, letting his mind drift back into the past.
It had been a while since he last sniped her. Lately, Hanya hadn't been playing ranked matches at all, busy leveling up an alt account or doing other things that left him with no clear opportunities. Consequently, he had been on a rather long, involuntary vacation.
How did he even end up stream sniping her in the first place? And with a username that boldly flaunted the streamer Hanya's name, no less? To answer that, he had to trace his memories back to a time long ago.
It was a year ago, during the very infancy of Hanya's streaming career. Back then, she barely scraped together ten viewers. Even those ten were mostly dummy accounts—some set up by Hanya's own family, and the rest being alt accounts created by the sniper himself. For all intents and purposes, the stream back then was a private sanctuary shared solely between Hanya and him.
Naturally, the Hanya of those early days was a far cry from the polished, professional streamer she was today. Her overlay was crude, her microphone crackled with static, and she frequently ran out of things to say, leaving long stretches of awkward silence.
"I'm so sorry. It's boring, isn't it? I'm just... not very good with words."
Yet, those early days possessed a raw, innocent charm of their own. Hanya would ride an emotional roller coaster over her viewer count fluctuating between single and double digits, and she would react to a measly 1,000-won donation as if she had just won the lottery. To a seasoned viewer like the sniper, who had drifted through countless streams, her genuine reactions were incredibly endearing.
Before he knew it, the sniper had become Hanya's most devoted fan. He, a lifelong wanderer who had never settled down in any stream, actually subscribed to her channel. He even went as far as designing and gifting her subscriber emotes himself—an act of sheer devotion that, looking back now, seemed almost absurdly obsessive.
But back then, he was purely happy. As if Hanya's joy were his own, seeing her happy would bring an uncontrollable, goofy grin to his face.
"Um, I'll try entering the tournament just like you advised me to."
As time passed, Hanya's channel grew steadily. A loyal core audience began to form, and there was no longer any need for him to keep dummy accounts running just to inflate the viewer count. This growth was largely thanks to the sniper, who had sent her detailed emails offering streaming advice and tirelessly promoted her on various online communities. While Hanya's own hard work and willingness to listen played a part, the credit for her consistent upward trajectory belonged heavily to him.
"I became a Partner Streamer!"
Indeed, that milestone said it all. The days of her anxiously watching the viewer count hover between twenty and thirty were long gone. Hanya's average viewership had soared, and she shed her label as a small-time streamer to sign an official partnership with Switch. Watching her succeed filled the sniper with immense pride and a subtle, intoxicating thrill. Look at that. I made her. He had taken a dead stream with barely ten viewers and raised it to this height. Perhaps he possessed a natural gift for cultivating talent—a knack for management or producing.
He felt a deep, genuine sense of accomplishment. Is this why people watch small-time streamers? To start from the very beginning, build the stream together, and watch it grow in real-time? In the past, he used to sneer and click his tongue at people who watched obscure, nameless streamers, calling them "small-streamer simps." But now, he finally understood exactly how they felt.
"This is all thanks to you guys. I'll work even harder!"
The changes, both on and off-camera, kept coming. Hanya, who had been streaming while attending university, took a leave of absence, citing the difficulty of balancing her studies with her broadcasts. It was an implicit declaration of her intent to become a full-time streamer. To prove it, she reinvested almost all of her streaming earnings into upgrading her equipment. She swapped her cheap, Chinese-made VR capsule for a high-quality, lag-free model, and replaced her crackling microphone with a built-in mic renowned for its crystal-clear audio. She even upgraded her webcam for the occasional face-cam streams, even though her main content was Asteria. These were all meaningful upgrades that showcased her passion for streaming. The sniper was highly satisfied with her dedication to investing in her craft.
...Of course, not all changes were welcome.
As her viewership swelled, the attention the sniper received naturally dwindled. When he chatted like he always did, she rarely read his messages. The opportunities to play games together grew scarce. Casual, everyday conversations became impossible. She no longer called out his username to wish him sweet dreams before ending her streams. It was all because the stream had grown too crowded. It was inevitable, really. Hanya was just one streamer, and her viewers now numbered in the hundreds. She couldn't possibly focus solely on him anymore. It was fine; he understood. Change was bound to happen, and all he had to do was adapt. If she didn't read his chat, he would just keep spamming until she did. He could replace their casual chats with emails, and they could play duos together when she was off-stream. It didn't matter how much Hanya doted on other viewers during her broadcasts.
Because I am special.
He was the founding father of Hanya's stream, and her sole true confidant. No matter how much the ordinary viewers squirmed and clamored, they could never hope to match the bond he shared with Hanya. He would remain by her side forever, even when her viewer count surpassed a thousand, then ten thousand, until she joined the ranks of the streaming giants.
...Or so he had firmly believed.
Special treatment? That was special treatment? How on earth was that special treatment?
I'm entitled to that kind of treatment!
The sniper truly believed that, but apparently, Hanya did not. From that day forward, there were no more emails, nor any private conversations. When he tried to vent his frustration in the stream chat, Hanya ignored him. Instead, the other viewers turned on him, branding him a creep and lambasting him.
Ultimately, his journey ended with a permanent ban. The reason cited was his persistent off-topic chatting and sending bizarre, unsettling donations. That had happened exactly two months ago, and from that day on, the man became a stream sniper dedicated to targeting Hanya. It wasn't that he had become an anti-fan or that he hated her. He simply wanted her to realize, through the medium of Stream Sniping, just how precious he was to her.
That was also why he was currently queuing up as a duo with someone whose username made his skin crawl: Hanya'sPersonalDoctorFish. This guy was an utterly repulsive degenerate who had been banned for chatting that he wanted to lick Hanya's feet—sexually harassing his Hanya. Under normal circumstances, the sniper wouldn't have breathed the same air as him, but the man possessed an unparalleled talent for Stream Sniping.
After all, Stream Sniping was only possible if you successfully matched into the same game. Though he knew how to play, he was a complete novice at the art of sniping, so he needed an expert's help. While it wore the guise of Stream Sniping, he viewed this as a form of rehabilitation—a desperate effort to guide a straying streamer back to the person she used to be.
Until she apologizes, admits she was wrong, and begs me to come back because she needs me.
The sniping would continue.
"Hey, the game started."
"Ah, right."
His partner's voice snapped him out of his reverie. The match had indeed begun, and the sniper moved his character. He was ready to carry out his grand mission of snapping Hanya back to her senses through the power of Stream Sniping.
"...Huh?"
However, his grand, delusional conviction was instantly and ruthlessly shattered by someone.
That someone was a young girl wielding a katana.