Chapter 19: Deleted Chat Logs

All through the holiday, that blank line haunted my mind.

In the end, I pulled up last night's log again.

Even with my eyes closed, the blue window clung stubbornly today.

The air in my room was still stuffy, but right now, that blank space from last night gnawed at me more than the pressure.

I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.

Yet the chat window kept scrolling endlessly on its own, spewing nonsense.

With over ten thousand viewers, the air in my room felt as heavy as the middle of a dungeon.

The sticky pressure from ten thousand eyes watching me.

Because of this disgusting weight, I couldn't even breathe freely in my own home—my chest stayed tight.

"This is driving me insane……."

I blinked my dry eyes and glared at the blue window ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠floating in the air.

How the hell do you turn off this damn broadcast?

Over the past few days, I'd tried everything possible.

I'd drawn an X in the air with my finger, swiped like on a touchscreen, scoured every corner of the window for a gear icon like a smartphone settings menu.

Even last night, I'd turned off all the lights, pulled the blanket over my head, and whispered in a voice so tiny only an ant could hear.

'Broadcast end. System off.

Log out. Please, just shut down.'

But the system gave zero feedback to my desperate voice command.

The viewers, watching my pathetic antics, just got excited and showered me with donations.

Along with insane ramblings like 'Talking to his inner mana under the blanket lololol.'

I let out a long sigh and leaned back against the headboard.

I'd already learned the hard way that I couldn't control this broadcast with my will.

That blank spot smack in the middle of the chat log felt worse the more I thought about it.

It wasn't just one missing sentence.

Someone had cherry-picked a viewer's words and reactions, carving out every trace.

That's why it felt so precise, so human.

My mouth went dry.

Cold sweat slicked my fingertips, making the scroll slippery.

My back prickled; I kept glancing over my shoulder at the empty air.

At least if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I knew my enemy and myself, I might avoid getting swept up by this crazy system and dying in tomorrow's dungeon.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

This time, I didn't scroll past it.

I couldn't pretend anymore.

Right above the deleted spot was a line I'd missed last night.

"Let's see…… This was right before the boss room."

I scrolled way up to the log from when I'd stood before the massive obsidian door in the Shadow Forest dungeon yesterday.

I'd been so terrified I wanted to back away, but my party members blocked both sides, forcing me to stop right there.

I could barely breathe from fear back then.

But the viewers' reactions were the total opposite.

Their explosive hype and cheers passed through me, turning into an invisible shockwave that slammed the boss room door.

Their blind faith that I'd do something epic turned me into a weapon.

"That's when the boss got scared and stopped roaring……."

[Blank line]

[Blank line]

[Blank line]

"……What the hell is all this."

A chill raced down my spine; I straightened up.

This wasn't just a blank space.

Someone was deleting.

Picking out only the lines that poked at this window's true nature.

With trembling hands, I scrolled up and down a bit more.

Similar traces dotted other sections.

Mentions of seeing a system log.

Questions about channels or worlds.

Sharp blanks followed those chats.

Most viewers brushed it off as lag or bugs.

Only a tiny few went, "Where'd my chat go?" in confusion.

That scared me more.

With over ten thousand people watching, someone could erase traces at will.

This blue window was too sophisticated for a mere glitch.

There was a 'BJ'—me—and over ten thousand 'viewers'.

Yet a whole sentence between us had been gouged out.

Until now, I'd only feared the weird frenzy of those basement dwellers mistaking me for the ultimate powerhouse, spamming their delusions.

I thought if I grasped how their hype created physical pressure that crushed monsters, I could survive somehow.

So I'd just be more careful.

I was wrong.

The real terror was elsewhere.

In a place I didn't know, that even those ten thousand viewers hadn't noticed.

The traces of someone's handiwork lingered.

"Who…… Who the hell is watching this?"

I swallowed dryly, staring at the empty chat window in the void.

For the first time, true bone-deep mystery seeped into my comedic survival drama.

The air in my room—once safe—now felt utterly alien and hostile.

ZZZzt.

In the corner of my vision, the blue window's border trembled ever so slightly.

Then, a red afterimage flickered in the top right of the chat window.

It looked like letters, but smeared away before I could read.

"Huh?"

I gasped, rubbing my eyes.

Looking again, the chat flowed normally.

But this time, I couldn't be sure.

Too vivid to dismiss as a hallucination, too quick to swear I'd seen it.

Someone was watching me.

This wasn't mere delusion.

Some unnaturally precise intent hid behind it.

Digging deeper might spell real trouble.

The more I pondered why me, who was running this, the more goosebumps rose.

ZZZzing—!

Then, my smartphone vibrated wildly from the corner of the bed.

The eerie silence in the room shattered instantly.

I jolted and checked the screen.

The caller ID was the last place I wanted to see right now.

"H-Hello?"

I answered in a cracked voice.

The staffer's voice from the receiver was so deferential it bordered on groveling.

But the content beneath that politeness was anything but.

No time for unraveling mysteries—that was a luxury.

Tomorrow, I'd have to survive monsters charging in a gale-swept canyon.

"U-Um, wait! I've survived a few times as a porter by sheer luck, but tomorrow my condition's off, and this isn't my place! I don't know how to fight!"

I yelled desperately, trying to wriggle out.

But the bureau staff just burst into pleasant laughter.

Click.

The call cut off abruptly.

"No, I'm really F-class, why won't anyone believe me……!"

I huddled on the floor, trembling with the phone clutched tight.

The invisible someone running this window terrified me.

But the monsters about to slam into me in the canyon tomorrow were far more real.

What if monsters charge the second I enter the dungeon tomorrow?

What if my legs freeze again and I can't move a step?

What misunderstandings will the party have then?

What nonsense will those ten thousand viewers spew?

I glared bitterly at the unyielding blue window.

If my feet lock up again at the canyon entrance tomorrow, what delusions will those numbers spawn?

Just thinking about it turned my stomach.