The Man Obsessed with Asteria
The placement matches in Asteria, a game seemingly filled with Japanese sword haters, consisted of ten games in total, and I had already completed five of them. I planned to finish the remaining five during today's stream. Honestly, I had wanted to get through all ten placement matches during Han-ah's stream last time. That would have been much cleaner in many ways. However, time ran short, so I couldn't, and it ended up being dragged out until today. Today, I would finish these placement matches no matter what. It had started to feel like a chore, a piece of homework. It was similar in the sense that if you keep putting it off, you end up getting nothing done. Of course, it was embarrassingly more fun than actual homework.
Splat!
With a familiar, satisfying sensation of impact, the enemy collapsed with a look of utter despair. The realism was so staggering that it was hard to believe it was just a game, and I habitually wiped my face. Since I had just decapitated the enemy, blood surely must have splattered all over me.
"Ah."
But there was no blood on my face. Of course there wasn't. This was virtual reality, after all—inside the game called Asteria. I must have gotten a bit too immersed in the battle without realizing it. This used to happen to me quite often in the past. When my sharply honed mind focused entirely on the enemy and myself, trading blows as if possessed, I would completely lose track of time.
If there was a difference between then and now, it would be these letters floating in the corner of my vision. The chat window, which instantly delivered the opinions of an unspecified crowd, served to pull me back to reality whenever I got too lost in battle. Even as I swung my sword using the memories of a real Hero, looking at the chat reminded me that I was not Park Jungwoo but Park Jeong-ah—not a Hero, but a fourteen-year-old girl with the rather ridiculous moniker of Geummisa, the Blonde Beautiful Girl Samurai. Doing so reminded me that I was currently broadcasting, and my eyes naturally drifted to the number of people watching my stream.
Before I knew it, the viewer count had increased by about a hundred, breaking past the three hundred mark. While a rising viewer count was a joyful thing for a broadcaster, it also puzzled me. What on earth was there to see that three hundred people would tune in to watch my stream? It wasn't that I was intimidated by the number three hundred. Back when I was active as the Hero, I had stood before surging crowds that packed the plazas, chanting my name in unison. Just a rough estimate would easily put those numbers over ten thousand. Having had such experiences, there was absolutely no reason for me to be frightened by a mere number. But that was a story from my days as the Hero. Back then, people held clear expectations and hopes for me. The Hero who would defeat the Demon King's army and bring peace to the continent: Park Jungwoo. Simply because of the title 'Hero,' people who had never even met me came to see me, cheered for me, and shouted my name. On the other hand, what about now? Did I have anything worth showing off as a broadcaster, as a streamer? I knew from Han-ah's words that I was a somewhat unusual player. A Japanese sword user, of which there were very few in Asteria. Thanks to that, I had even gained the nickname 'Samurai.' But if that was all, it shouldn't be anything particularly special in the streaming world, which was always overflowing with things to watch. It was strange that so many people were flocking here. Yet, whatever the reason, these three hundred or so viewers had come to see me. I felt a sense of obligation to converse with them, exchange greetings, and carry on the kind of communication that commonly occurs between people.
"Uh, quite a lot of you have joined."
Hmm, as expected, this is difficult. Perhaps because I lacked eloquence, the words simply wouldn't leave my mouth. The street bards back in Asteria could talk as if they had motors attached to their tongues, making even the most trivial stories sound entertaining. Looking at them, it seemed I wasn't naturally a funny person. But I had no intention of backing down. If my talking skills were weak, I just had to make up for it in other areas. The selling point of my stream had already been decided.
• Player1: Thanks for the carry.
• Player2: Holy crap, you're insanely good with the Japanese sword.
• Player3: The customization is pretty, and the player is cracked.
Along with the praise from the in-game players, I was selected as the MVP, and I immediately queued up for the next match.
"I'm at six wins and zero losses. There are four wins left."
Talking, commentary—those were things I would get used to over time. No, even if I never got used to them, it didn't matter. Even if I couldn't speak as fluently as other broadcasters, that wasn't what I valued. My stream was a skill-based stream, and I aimed for the top. The best player. Though I wasn't there yet, my viewers were watching—and would continue to watch—the stream of someone who was destined to become the absolute best. That was my selling point, the strength I would push forward in my streaming career. I nodded to myself, satisfied with the thought.
"No, why are you going in there?!"
Argh!
A man roared violently. His wide-open eyes trembled, his arms shook, and drool spilled from his mouth. It was a scene that perfectly illustrated just how deeply immersed he was in the game. The man tearing at his hair was Jeong Gyeong-sik. Gyeong-sik was a fairly prominent streamer on Switch. Known as the Asteria specialist, "the man obsessed with Asteria," or "A-jin-nam" for short, he was playing Asteria again today.
"No! Stop!"
And, as always, he was screaming in the face of defeat.
"What do you mean, Plat? Plat is absolutely out of the question. Don't cross the line."
True to his nickname, Gyeong-sik reacted sensitively to chats regarding his tier. Regardless, the viewers only enjoyed watching him suffer.
"Let's try one last, just one last team fight before we end. Wait for respawns."
The control point has been captured!
With their capture percentage steadily dropping and victory slipping away, Gyeong-sik wore a solemn expression, like a general facing his final battle. He issued orders, and surely his teammates would obediently follow the commands of the player performing best on the team—
"Ah, what are you doing?!"
Or not.
Because the Japanese sword user, who had contributed the most to their impending defeat, suddenly initiated a fight as if having a seizure. If they had just abandoned him, it might have been fine, but the nearby teammates panicked, went "Uh, uh," and were dragged into the fray. In an already disadvantageous situation, a chaotic brawl like this, rather than a properly structured team fight, was bound to end in disaster.
Although Gyeong-sik fought desperately and managed the incredible feat of taking down two enemy leaders,
"Fuck!"
Every single one of his teammates except him was wiped out. Naturally, Gyeong-sik was killed shortly after, and the game ended in defeat.
"No, honestly, I didn't play badly. Guys."
There was no way Gyeong-sik wouldn't react to the teasing chat. He protested, feeling deeply wronged.
"I pulled at least 1.5 times my own weight, okay? Things were good in the beginning. We would've won if the others hadn't thrown. Especially that Japanese sword guy. The guy using the Japanese sword suddenly went full throttle at the end. We could have easily turned it around."
Regardless, the viewers were busy teasing Gyeong-sik. The atmosphere in his chat had always been like this, and they enjoyed watching Gyeong-sik suffer more than the actual gameplay.
He clicked his tongue and queued up again.
"Well, what would you guys know? Most of you probably have lower tiers than me anyway."
"Ah, whatever. Even if I turn off the stream now, I won't be able to sleep anyway. I need to recover some points before I can sleep."
Having queued up, Gyeong-sik was examining his teammates' picks to form a decent team composition, determined to win this time. Then, a teammate picking the Japanese sword caught his eye. Gyeong-sik's face instantly contorted, and forgetting that his in-game voice chat was turned on, he yelled:
"No, seriously, another Japanese sword?!"