Why Is This Real? The 500 Point Shock
I let out a soft chuckle as I scrolled through the community posts checking reactions to yesterday’s stream, then set my phone down. Just to be clear, I’d ended the broadcast less than ten minutes after showing my training simulation score. My original plan had been to jump straight into the game, but—
“Looks like the influx is only going to get bigger from here.”
I tapped my lips lightly with a finger, organizing my thoughts. Even while I was running the training simulation, the viewer count had kept climbing. The last time I checked it had hit 3,420. Most of them had probably clicked in because of the clickbait, but the important part was that they’d all personally confirmed whether my physical ability was real or not.
The fact that I’d teased today’s gameplay at the very end of yesterday’s stream had been a calculated move. I’d predicted the gallery would blow up like it had the day before, and sure enough, it had. The perfect environment for even more new viewers to pour in had been created.
As I sorted through my thoughts, I suddenly remembered the viewers’ reactions from yesterday and found myself grinning again. When I closed my eyes, the scene replayed more vividly than I expected.
The chat had exploded.
“I’ll be back at the same time tomorrow. I just warmed up today, so we’ll get into the real game properly starting tomorrow. Still doubting my skills? Feel free to send me any mission you want. I’ll clear it myself and prove it.”
The chat had turned into complete chaos, but I simply nodded once, raised my hand, and gave a polite bow.
Yeah, it’s happening. The moment I quickly ended the stream, the remaining chat went into full meltdown.
“That was fun.”
When I checked the time, the next broadcast was already approaching. I got up from the bed, picked up Nyua who had been sleeping beside me, and headed for the capsule.
“Nyua…?”
Nyua looked at me with sleepy eyes. I gently stroked the little guy with my fingertip.
“It’s almost time to start the stream.”
At my words Nyua jolted awake with a twitch. Twitch. Twitch. The previously limp black ball reshaped itself into a soft, squishy mochi and naturally floated up, sticking tightly to my neck. The soft sensation wrapping around my nape no longer felt strange.
I entered the capsule like that. The familiar startup sound rang out, and the private room unfolded before me. One bed, one desk. It was simple, but I quite liked the space.
I lay on the private room’s bed to kill the last bit of time, then stood up the moment the clock hit exactly eight and turned on the stream. The viewer count shot up rapidly—within three minutes it had already passed five hundred. Looks like ending the broadcast immediately yesterday really had been the right call.
“Paha. You guys are fast.”
The moment I turned the camera to show myself, the chat exploded.
The chat flew up the screen at blinding speed. After exchanging a few light greetings with the viewers, I scanned the messages, waiting for the one I wanted to appear. Right then, the donation sound rang out.
Bingo.
Exactly the line I was hoping for.
When I checked the donor’s nickname, it was a familiar one. CitrusLover—the person who had been dropping exactly the comments I wanted since yesterday. They must have been rich; they’d thrown a whopping 500,000 won at me from the very first broadcast. My precious… well, my precious benefactor.
“Thank you for the 1,000 won donation, CitrusLover. What am I going to do today? I think it’ll be faster to show you rather than explain it in words.”
After thanking them for the donation, I immediately launched the game. Other streamers would usually chat for a while at this point to farm more donations, but—
I’m still not comfortable with that kind of thing.
Besides, these people hadn’t come to laugh and chat with me. They’d come to verify my physical ability again. Easy-come viewers leave just as easily. So I believed this was the right way to naturally settle the audience in their seats.
With a majestic sound, the screen changed. The moment the WILDS HUNTER title appeared, the chat boiled over once again.
Wilds Hunter. Commonly called WaHun. An open-world hunting game set in a vast world where you hunt countless monsters, gather their materials, craft weapons, and grow stronger. It was a classic title that had existed even before virtual reality became mainstream, and thanks to its high-quality gameplay it had secured a massive dedicated fanbase.
And this time the developers had poured their heart and soul into their newest masterpiece. Right after launch it received the evaluation that it had perfectly captured both realism and gameplay, earning rave reviews from everyone who actually played it.
However, even among the praise there was criticism. The difficulty. While the overwhelming freedom was highly praised, the problem was that the same freedom had been given to the monsters. The ‘attack patterns’ that monsters were supposed to have disappeared, replaced by creatures that showed off even more creative movements than the players. Normally you learned a monster’s pattern and countered it, but in this game the monsters’ patterns kept changing. There was even a legendary video that surpassed ten million views of a newly released monster interrupting a fight, throwing dung at the player, and running away.
When players fiercely protested, the developers proudly released a new mode. The so-called Baby Mode.
“Is hunting too difficult for you? We prepared a mode for players just like you. It’s called Baby Mode. In this mode, monster patterns are standardized and players can grow stronger more easily.”
Thanks to that, the review section that had nearly caught fire calmed down somewhat, and more casual users gradually began to enjoy the game.
The original hardcore difficulty was separated into Reality Mode, which became a hellish realm that only a tiny number of veterans challenged.
“No, this is my first time.”
At those words, some viewers started going wild.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
The viewers suddenly started arguing among themselves over which mode I would choose. Baby Mode or Reality Mode? They were going at it fiercely.
What they didn’t know was that I would obviously be choosing Reality Mode. And not just any Reality Mode—I was going with the so-called Double Reality Mode, where I even disabled the capsule’s calibration system. Because only minimal assistance remained, the difficulty rose exponentially.
Others might call me crazy for it, but—
This is the only way the dopamine really kicks in.
It was just a game anyway. Dying inside didn’t mean you actually died.
“I’ll be playing in Reality Mode.”
There were quite a few worried messages, but they were in the minority. Looking at the chat, most opinions were leaning toward me suffering. Among the noticeable ones were comments like “They’re forcing it to show off,” “They got a bit of attention and now they’re excited,” “This is just aggro,” and “A cheap trick to draw eyes.”
Then there was one comment that slightly got on my nerves.
PepperFlavor. I’ve memorized your nickname.
When I selected Reality Mode on the mode selection screen, a warning appeared.
Are you sure you want to select Reality Mode?
I skimmed the warning text below that said the manufacturer bore no responsibility, then pressed accept without hesitation. My vision slowly faded to black. And then—
Chirp—
Birdsong came from all directions, the soft sensation of grass under my feet, and the cool breeze brushing my face. The realism was so overwhelming that my mouth fell open slightly without me realizing it.
It was this good?
I’d heard many times that virtual reality games felt real, but hearing about it and experiencing it were completely different. The feeling was on another level compared to the training simulation. There was a slight sense of dissonance when I moved my body, but I couldn’t hide my surprise at how perfectly they had implemented it.
“This is my first time playing a virtual reality game, and this is seriously… a whole new world…”
The sensation of my body still felt awkward. Since it wasn’t my real body, it seemed to be about seventy percent less responsive than usual. I slowly rotated my arm, getting used to the feeling, then spoke to proceed with the stream.
“Then first, let’s see what I should do fi—”
Thwack!
A heavy impact struck the back of my head. My head snapped forward at a ninety-degree angle.
“……?”
While I stood there frozen in shock, the guy who had hit me spoke bluntly.
“Newbie, you not paying attention? Idiot’s spacing out. Hurry up and follow me!!”
The chat seemed to immediately recognize the character and grew noisy, but that was outside my concern.
Should I kill him?
Grabbing the back of my aching head, I couldn’t help but seriously consider that question first.