PD Yang Jia (1)
Anon: How to Troll Communities Basics.jpg
Why is trolling so damn fun?
I couldn't even explain it myself, and I'm the one using it as my main stress relief right now.
Is it the thrill of destruction from crumbling a tight-knit community? Something like, "Hah, I pissed these guys off!"?
I don't know the exact reason, but there's this subtle happiness bubbling up in my chest when I post a thread and manipulate the comments.
Of course, I knew you could get pretty meticulous and strategic if you went at it with real conviction.
Sowing discord to erode trust and self-moderation inside the community, ultimately aiming for total collapse and disbandment—but that's not my style.
"Puhaha!"
I was satisfied just making a few people mildly pissed off at my posts in the dead of night.
I did have a massive arsenal of burners and weapons stockpiled in my vault if I really wanted to go all out.
But the communities I hung out in didn't piss me off enough, and tanking a gal to #1 on the shutdown rankings just to wreck it felt too retarded.
That'd be like burning my own house down.
"Hmm... Time to move to live streams."
Of course, my trolling wasn't limited to communities or galleries. Internet broadcasts were crawling with trolls too.
In my case, "malicious troll" fit better than just plain troll, but mixing the terms was fine. "Malicious troll pest" got thrown around a lot anyway, and streamers rarely distinguished.
"Yawwwn."
Wee hours of the morning. Everyone's sleepy, half-dazed. Perfect time to strike.
Streamers on at this hour were usually night owls or doing tough game all-nighters/challenges... and I was hunting the latter.
Those draws swarmed with malicious types. Beating on someone solo was fun, but ganging up made it way more satisfying.
I scrolled the broadcast list and found a good target. A VTuber with 300-400 viewers, grinding a hard game challenge.
The timer on screen said about 10 hours in, still no clear.
"Is this game that tough?"
Stuff like this baffled me. Suffering for 10 straight hours over one game?
Sure, I'd tried streaming once, and broadcasting vs. solo grinding were worlds apart in difficulty.
"Aaaagh! Stop the donations already! Let me focus and clear this!"
The chat was already overrun by malicious donations. The VTuber was yelling in agony.
"Hoo..."
Seeing her sigh and struggle on stream tugged at my heartstrings a bit. But.
Not my job.
You have charged 10,000 Pickles.
Bullet loaded. Burner account, naturally. I fired off ten donations with the charged Pickles, each one stuffed to the 100-character limit with premium troll rice.
Every malicious donation template I knew—crosslines, absolute dragon shit, too many to list—plus game advice reeking of soyboy sweat in long-ass sentences.
Sending them alone was satisfying. But the real payoff was the streamer reacting live.
Generic templates anyone could copy got ignored, but my custom-brewed originals from my twisted brain? High hit rate.
And to snag attention with malicious dons, timing mattered.
When the streamer failed a clear and their mental was crumbling.
Dodging bans was key too, but burners meant zero fucks given.
"Aaaah!"
The streamer screamed in frustrated defeat. That's when I struck.
Taste the malicious donation crafted by me, Kenis, the all-knowing Archmage who mastered every spell, oh streamer.
Anonymous Donor has sponsored 1,000 Pickles!
Chat exploded too.
The streamer let out a deep sigh, eyes rolling as she checked chat.
"That's... it for today. I can't do this anymore. See you tomorrow."
Kuh. That reaction? I landed the finishing blow. Real or not, if I thought so, it was so.
"Hoo... Made one streamer ragequit today too."
Why's the world full of fun shit? Filling up on mana in gates felt good, but this was addictively close.
I stared at the ragequit streamer's screen, wondering if that game was really that hard.
Ring ring ring—
Then my smartphone buzzed. A call this late? Who?
"Baek Seol-yeon?"
I picked up, and a familiar voice came through.
Ah, Jia! You're still up, huh? That thing from last time's been on my mind...
It was Lee Ga-eun calling.
Unlike me, she'd collapsed after escaping the gate, but her voice sounded recovered now.
How about grabbing a meal sometime? You saved my life in that gate. I'd be dead without you. Just wanna say thanks.
Hmm. Yeah, without my prime-time America power, she'd have been toast. Meal sounded good.
Getting chummy with a neighbor? No downside. Internet-addicted hikikomori NEET or not, going out felt nice once in a while.
"Sure, let's do it."
She practically jumped for joy at my reply. We chatted casually for ages, life-and-death bond making words flow easy.
So anyway...
She was a total chatterbox. Call ended as I started feeling sleepy.
Appointment: Two days later, 1 PM.
I recalled her voice from our talk. Surprisingly pleasant for her looks.
The kind otaku weebs drool over—cute, fresh, bubbly, energizing.
And my bank account still had that fat gate loot cash.
"This might be worth investing in."
Lately, one incident kept popping into my head.
Baek Seol-yeon subtly pushing me to try streaming. She'd said it'd be fun, and now I got why.
Hell, I thought it'd be fun right now too.
But I'm not like that bitch.
My intentions were totally different from hers. It was all because I saw talent potential in Lee Ga-eun.
As a heavy user who breathed communities and streams, she had that "it" image.
Of course, talent alone doesn't shine right away without early push.
The streaming scene was a brutal red ocean these days—common knowledge that you needed real skill to survive.
But even for them, there was a cheat key: collabing with a big name.
Some griped it weakened your own IP or wasn't "real" growth, but I disagreed.
It could be the stage to unleash that talent.
And my channel had grown enough to be someone's launchpad.
Short-term boom, but big incidents plus my clips blowing up on major channels helped.
"What was it again."
Some Nutube viewers who'd seen my menace side gave me a nickname.
Something like "LuckyTSLawElf" or whatever. After that clip spread, I pulled 200 viewers even without guides.
Mid-tier for game streamers, I'd say.
It felt like a business. I was the investor. And the reason? Simple.
"Sounds fun."
That's why.
I passed the convenience store ditch corner and headed to the new cafe.
Name: [Gate Keeper]. Hunter Association franchise monitoring old large-gate sites. Net buzz said the coffee was surprisingly good.
I didn't do coffee, though—green grape ade for me.
Ding-a-ling—
Door chime rang as I entered, grape ade on my mind, and there in the corner...
"Ah, Jia!"
More precisely.
"Nice to see you. Been a while?"
Familiar faces plural. Baek Seol-yeon, why the hell are you here?