It's Not Easy
The Inquisitor has requested a 1:1 conversation.
It went without saying that Tyuni had zero good feelings toward the user known as the Inquisitor. She had died more times than she could count simply for choosing the Priest class. When the hack controversy erupted, she had even stepped forward offering to help clear his name, only to be met with condemnation and yet more death. Expecting her to feel anything positive toward someone like that would be impossible—even if Buddha himself descended from the heavens.
Besides, the Inquisitor’s hack scandal had largely blown over by now. The game company had officially stated that no illegal programs were used. Who could argue with that? Of course, a handful of malicious trolls still spouted conspiracy theories—“They’re using hacks the company can’t detect!” or “They must have connections inside the studio!”—but without concrete proof, it was the same as screaming into an empty room.
In terms of community buzz, the Inquisitor topic was already yesterday’s news. Which meant, for a streamer like Tyuni, associating with him offered zero benefit.
“Accept… or decline…”
Still, separate from all that, Tyuni was genuinely interested in the player behind the Inquisitor. Having dealt with countless snipers and toxic personalities, she had never seen anyone with that kind of playstyle. A 1:1 conversation request from such a fascinating opponent was hard to turn down, even though she knew curiosity killed the cat.
In the end, Tyuni dipped her hand into the abyss.
Tyuni’s mind went completely blank. Why on earth was he asking that? The last time they met, the conversation had ended before she could even mention she was a streamer. Yet he knew. For a split second the thought Is this actually a sniper? flashed through her head, but she quickly shook it off. If he really were targeting her, the way he had acted during their previous 1:1 chat made no sense.
Maybe it’s about the explanation I offered last time?
The hack controversy was over, but that didn’t mean the person at the center of it had no lingering discomfort. If that was the case, it made sense that he had looked up how to contact her after learning she was a streamer. And if he really wanted help clearing his name… Tyuni was willing to lend a hand. She had reached out first in the past. Even his sharp reaction back then was understandable given the mental pressure of being accused of hacking. Her heart wasn’t cold enough to brush off someone like that without a second thought.
Plus, if this could bring her even a few more viewers, that was a win.
“Is this guy insane?”
“He really is insane.”
It didn’t take long for Tyuni’s suspicion to harden into certainty.
Tyuni: If you have any footage from when you streamed alone, could you send it to me? I’ll watch it and give you some advice if I see anything.
Inquisitor: Understood.
This person is kind. In her heart, Tyuni’s favorability meter toward the streamer named Tyuni ticked upward. Even though the request had been sudden and out of nowhere, she responded with such warmth. Come to think of it, she had offered to help clear the hacking accusations last time too. She really was the type who couldn’t ignore someone in need—just like her. It was a shame she was a heretic.
With that, I logged out of New Dimension.
Reading the skeptical email, I let out a sigh. To think she would twist someone’s sincere intentions like this. How very heretic of her. I immediately replied that I was completely serious.
Hmm, I suppose that makes sense. Honestly, I thought there was nothing wrong with my stream, but if a professional says otherwise, there must be a reason. Might as well hear her out.
Following her suggestion, I signed up for the program called Discord, sent her my ID, and waited.
[Accept] [Decline]
A few minutes later, the call connected.
“Hello?”
The clear, refreshing voice coming through the headphones was identical to the one I had heard on her stream earlier.
“Hello,” I replied.
After confirming my greeting, Tyuni cleared her throat once and then shared her screen. The footage playing was the exact broadcast I had sent her earlier.
“…First of all, didn’t you notice anything strange here?”
After about five minutes, Tyuni asked.
“Was there something strange?”
I genuinely had no idea what she meant. It looked like a perfectly normal New Dimension gameplay video to me.
“…Why aren’t you saying anything? Look, it’s fine when nobody’s watching, but if a viewer joins, you have to greet them. It’s even better if you have topics ready to continue the conversation with them.”
Oh. That sounded like reasonable advice. Unfortunately, it was advice I could not accept.
“My stream concept is ultra-skilled silent broadcasting.”
“I’ve decided to cut out all unnecessary chatter.”
“Where on earth is there a streamer who says nothing?!!! The streamer’s voice is ‘unnecessary chatter’? That’s ridiculous!”
Ouch. My ears.
“But I’ve seen edited highlight videos on OnTube called mad movies or whatever. They don’t use mics either.”
“That’s because those are edited clips of only the best moments! They don’t need extra commentary! What you’re doing is live streaming! If the streamer doesn’t communicate, there’s no reason for anyone to watch! So if you’re going to stream, you must turn your mic on!”
Internet streaming seemed far more difficult than I had imagined. Still, I wanted to avoid using the mic if at all possible…
“Isn’t there any other way?”
“There isn’t! Throw out that weird concept!”
Her answer was firm. My heart ached…
“Or is there some special reason you can’t use a microphone?”
“Yes.”
“Could you tell me what it is?”
“I’m shy.”
Why was she asking something so obvious? I was starting to doubt whether she was actually a professional internet streamer.
“…Pardon?”
“Talking to strangers is embarrassing.”
“If other people are watching, it feels like I’m just talking to myself.”
“It’s not easy.”
Besides, no one would find it entertaining to listen to someone whose communication skills were completely destroyed. So wouldn’t it be better to just stay silent from the beginning? That was my conclusion. My goal was to become known as a purely skill-based streamer who never spoke.
But it seemed that was completely unacceptable in the eyes of a professional.
“If you’re that shy, you really shouldn’t be streaming…”
“Huk.”
Is this person a genius?
Tyuni’s head was spinning. She simply could not understand what the Inquisitor was thinking. He didn’t talk. He didn’t show anything particularly special on screen. He just played New Dimension normally. She was starting to seriously wonder if he was trolling her.
“Talking to strangers is embarrassing.”
“If other people are watching, it feels like I’m just talking to myself.”
“It’s not easy.”
“If you’re that shy, you really shouldn’t be streaming…”
“Huk.”
The reason he stayed completely silent was… shyness? Well, she could kind of understand. Tyuni had always believed her own voice was pleasant to listen to, and that confidence was part of why she had become a streamer. On the other hand, she had heard from fans many times that some streamers found their own voices uncomfortable. So the feeling of embarrassment itself wasn’t unfamiliar.
But that and this were two different things. Except in very special circumstances, staying completely silent on stream was impossible. No matter how much you disliked your own voice, a professional internet streamer had to keep talking.
“If you really plan to say nothing at all during your streams, you should just give up. OnTube might have other options, but on Liming that approach will never, ever succeed.”
Tyuni herself was still a small-time streamer who hadn’t made it big, but she was certain his method was fundamentally wrong.
“Absolutely never?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Tyuni spoke firmly. Seeing how strongly he disliked the idea, she briefly wondered if there was something actually wrong with his voice. Still, she believed it was kinder to be clear rather than give him vague hope.
And at her decisive statement—
“Ah, um… I…”
“…Huh?”
For the first time, a quiet female voice came through the headphones. The mute icon next to the Inquisitor nickname had been turned off.