Chapter 5: Small streamers usually have a reason(2)

Let’s rewind a bit—to the day after Rojon uploaded the video about Han Yurim.

Since the rise of social media, there’s been a common sentiment:
‘There are way more weirdos in the world than when we were kids.’

But that’s not true. There have always been weird people. The only difference is that, in the past, there was no way to witness their strange behavior.

The same logic applies to small-time streamers too.

Small-time streamers used to get away with anything simply because no one was watching. But that didn’t mean they could act recklessly without consequence.

Like Schrödinger’s troublemaker, once observed, they were bound to fall from grace.

Rojon, waking up to head to his late-night shift at the convenience store, was stunned. His latest video had over 100 comments.

The video he made, *[The Current State of Eternal World]*, had a straightforward message:
Solo rank matches these days were in terrible shape.

He crammed every buzzword he could think of—score patches, matchmaking manipulation—into the video. It was provocative and perfect for drawing attention.

The problem was, editing like that naturally led to blaming the entire team. The main carry who ignored orders, the scout who did nothing—everyone had to be criticized for the video to be entertaining.

And Rojon didn’t see an issue with that. After all, he had done similar things before, and nothing bad ever came of it.

But this time was different.

Most of the comments were insults, but some mentioned their origins.
–Is this the place that roasted *Mos*, the pride of Game Gallery?

*Mos?* Judging by the context, it sounded like a streamer, but it was a name Rojon had never heard before.

Curious, Rojon opened the wiki and searched for it. Nothing came up.

To be listed on the wiki, a streamer needed at least 10,000 followers. The absence of results meant only one thing—Mos wasn’t famous.

And Rojon’s assessment was correct—Mos wasn’t a particularly famous streamer.

With an average viewer count of 100 and only 5,000 subscribers on MiTube, Mos was a small-time content creator, barely making enough to be considered sustainable.

But that didn’t mean Mos was just another ordinary streamer.

Mos’s defining trait?
He was from *Game Gallery*.

At first glance, the name might suggest a massive community where every possible gaming topic is discussed. However, the reality was quite different.

When a community becomes too broad in scope, it usually converges on a single outcome:
A *small, tight-knit clique for idle chatter*—the final drain where all communities end up.

Game Gallery, which had hit rock bottom over a decade ago, was infamous in its own way.

How infamous? Seeing “Game Gallery” in someone’s activity would instantly draw responses like: *“Oh, this guy’s from *there*?”*

It was absurd, known not for achievements but for how deeply embedded personal cliques and friendships were within it.

Despite being a social hub, Game Gallery was also remarkably long-lived. The idea of a “long-standing clique community” might seem contradictory, yet the outcome spoke for itself—it had endured.

Mos had been a part of that strange world for nearly eight years, ever since middle school.

And one day, he had a sudden thought:

*“Why not try streaming?”*

It all began casually. Half out of boredom, Mos started streaming and posted links on the gallery to promote his broadcasts.

As it turned out, Mos had a knack for streaming—not to the point of becoming a superstar, but enough to keep some curious gallery members sticking around.

This went on for three years.

By then, Mos’s stream had evolved into a kind of gathering spot for Game Gallery members.

New viewers who stumbled upon his channel were often confused: *“Why are all the viewers just talking about their personal lives?”*

But Mos didn’t care much.

Streaming wasn’t even Mos’s main job, and he fully understood the conversations happening in his chat.

After all, both Mos and his viewers knew exactly what kind of people they were dealing with—not in terms of personalities, but in the literal sense.

Names, faces, ages, places of residence, educational backgrounds—everything about each other’s personal lives was common knowledge.

This was just how things worked in the Game Gallery.

Mos, as usual, turned on his stream after work and frowned at the incoming chat messages.

“Someone targeted me? Is there really a person who would target 100 viewers?”

At first, he thought it was just a joke, but soon he realized it wasn’t.

When he clicked the MiTube link that appeared in the chat, a video began to play.

[The Current State of Eternal World]

As he quietly watched the video, Mos quickly figured out who had uploaded it.

“Isn’t this the support player I met yesterday? The one who picked ‘Isahyang’?”

Did they really upload a targeting video?

That didn’t make sense.

He wasn’t joking; they were the winner of the Trash GOAT award this year.

Mos continued to watch the video until the end and let out a wry laugh.

“It’s oddly captivating, isn’t it?”

While it didn’t outright say that his team was terrible, the message was essentially the same.

Mos was a veteran of the community—having spent eight years in a chaotic forum without any moderators. In fact, at this point…

Mos usually didn’t react to typical trolling.

But everyone has their limits.

His origin was the “Game” gallery.

No matter how much the gallery was known for its friendly chit-chat and camaraderie, the people gathered there shared a common love for games.

Mos was no different. He loved games and was good at them too.

Currently, Mos had a low tier due to real-life issues, but his highest tier in *Eternal World* was Grand Master.

So, while he could brush off comments about his parents, it was hard to tolerate nonsense about games.

Mos immediately opened the replay to analyze Rojon’s and Isahyang’s plays one by one.

“First of all, I’m not thrilled about the pick. What advantage does Isahyang, a support character, even have? Does this person even know what kind of character Isahyang is?”

Isahyang<<A character that unnecessarily makes noise while farming and gives away information to the scouts.

If Isahyang is the main carry, then the support should pick something tough, ready to take on anyone who challenges them. But using such a character as support… well, they end up dying to scouts right from the start. The enemy scouts are already pretty bad, so they didn’t catch on until it was too late, only to be slowly worn down and killed.

“I expected to get shut down by a scout the moment I saw Isahyang, but I can accept that. Not everyone plays well all the time.”

*I admit it.*

“Then why is this loss my fault? I just don’t get it.”

In a 3v3 standoff, while Mos was trying to hold his position and look for the right angle, Isahyang suddenly charged forward without warning. Despite pouring damage into the enemy main carry, Isahyang was weak due to being a support and not having enough resources, and more importantly, the angle wasn’t right.

“‘The tier system isn’t functioning properly, which leads to a disconnect in how we see the game. We keep losing fights we should win like this.’ That’s what I should be saying.”

The characteristic of a low-tier player: believing they understand everything about the game.

“Because of this, the snowball effect has gone out of control. As we go into the late game, Isahyang, without any crowd control abilities, is going to be useless, and they’ve already given away kills? At this rate, we’re bound to lose.”

Mos turned off the replay. Although there was still plenty of Isahyang’s horror show left to watch, he decided not to continue since his appearance in the target video ended right there.

“Still, after three years of streaming, I’m experiencing this kind of thing. Am I really going to get recognized?”

Mos chuckled to himself, lost in his thoughts.

The game gallery is a mixed bag of socializing. Various topics are posted, and at first glance, it may seem like there are no rules. However, there are no places in the world without rules. Similarly, while the game gallery lacks formal rules, there are unspoken ones that everyone is expected to follow.

[Mos gets targeted by another streamer on MiTube ]

Late lunch. A post appeared on the game gallery concept thread that read:

Just because it’s a socializing, mixed discussion gallery doesn’t mean you can post anything. If truly any post were to flood the gallery, it would become a wasteland. Therefore, members of the game gallery carefully consider their posts. For example, posts like “<Today, Mos’s Solo Ranked Legend >” are not written. Although no one in the gallery is unaware of Mos’s streaming, they still choose to hold back.

In short, they aim to avoid flooding the gallery with boring posts.

– “It’s really legendary ”
– “Why is the level of Platinum so low these days? I miss Season 1.”
– “Is this a Daughter of the Nation situation?”

“I know your age, so how can you call me ‘daughter’?”

And this video related to Mos didn’t violate the unspoken gallery rules. Such targeting videos were always entertaining and easy to follow. New dopamine was always welcome.

The game gallery members went to Rojon’s MiTube and left comments. It was less about the mindset of “How dare you mess with someone from our neighborhood?” and more about finding it amusing. As a result, their actions were short-lived and didn’t escalate further.

The game gallery members left a comment once and then disappeared to continue their usual activities. Mos also forgot about Rojon and continued with his broadcast. Thus, the series of events ended as a mere happening. As mentioned earlier, it was usually not a problem for a small-time streamer to do anything since there were hardly any viewers.

“Not good.”

However, that didn’t mean one could act recklessly and do strange things without concern. The Schrödinger’s problem child is bound to fall into chaos the moment they are observed. Rojon, who had never experienced such a situation before and lived without much knowledge of internet culture—having rarely watched live broadcasts or YouTube—felt a sense of fear.

The word “chaos,” which Rojon had first encountered not long ago, was etched in his mind. Convinced that he was facing the worst possible situation, Rojon began to ponder solutions. A few days later, a video was uploaded to his YouTube channel.
[Encountered a Deliberate Troll in Solo Rank]

This video was then posted in a concept thread of a gallery—specifically, the VR Broadcast Gallery.
And that was the reason why Han Yurim’s chatroom was in chaos now.

“Welcome to the VR Broadcast Gallery! You’ve finally awakened!”
“Welcome to the VR Broadcast Gallery! You’ve finally awakened!”
“Welcome to the VR Broadcast Gallery! You’ve finally awakened!”

But if you didn’t like the pick of I Sa-hyang, why not just say it instead of trolling?

“Thierry one-pick, just die already!”
“Thierry one-pick, just die already!”
“Thierry one-pick, just die already!”

As soon as Han Yurim glanced at the chatroom, she quickly assessed the situation.

Ah, so the latest traditional game in South Korea is in full swing.

What am I even supposed to say?  It wasn’t anything serious.