Chapter 13: “Please turn on the mic”

In places where people gather, there are inevitably diverse individuals.

When five people gather, even if one of them isn’t necessarily trash, everyone has different tendencies, which makes conflict in crowded places almost inevitable.

So, what about the internet, where even basic manners and laws between people become blurred?

In that world, people shed the masks they wear in society and freely spew harsh words, things they would never dare say in reality—criticizing each other’s parents or lives without hesitation.

The Abyss Gallery, currently ranked number one in real-time gallery views, was no exception.

[“Kayak started streaming kek”]

[“Why isn’t Kayak turning on the mic?”]

[“Kayak’s really good, I admit it…”]

“All this talk about Kayak…”

Hanmo, a major nickname in the Abyss Gallery, muttered in displeasure as he scrolled through the posts.

Every new post was about Kayak.

As someone who inherently disliked discussions about Kayak, the gallery felt especially uncomfortable during times like this.

Under normal circumstances, Hanmo could just close the gallery and do something more productive, but the Abyss Gallery was his entire life and took up more than half of his daily routine.

Quitting it was not an option.

“What’s so great about this no-name kid that everyone’s streaming his gameplay?”

Everyone has different tastes and senses of humor.

Likewise, opinions on what

After quite some time, Hanmo, with his near-ranker level of skill, began to observe Kayak’s play with sharp eyes.

There wasn’t much lacking.

Perhaps it was because Hanmo didn’t know much about the hero Camilla, but there didn’t seem to be anything particularly worth criticizing.

Even considering that, Kayak’s fundamentals were solid.

As the saying goes, “A mackerel is still a mackerel even when rotten.”

A ranker was still a ranker.

Quoting the gallery, Kayak was once called the “absolute ruler of Season 1” and the “nightmare of Season 2.”

It seemed that once someone reached the top, their skills didn’t deteriorate even after time passed.

Hanmo, feeling a strange admiration, found himself watching Kayak’s stream more intently than he realized.

The broadcast, devoid of any human voice, was filled only with game sound effects, much like watching a silent film.

This pure focus on the game’s audio made it easier to concentrate on Kayak’s gameplay.

Not only Hanmo but even the viewers were deeply immersed in Kayak’s play.

[What was that move just now?]

[Is that command even possible?]

[Parry timing was god-tier]

[Who even thinks to parry there? His guts are something else]

[Lol, if he missed that parry, his head would’ve flown off instantly]

“What kind of confidence is that?”

Hanmo, like the viewers, was in awe.

Kayak’s move had no guaranteed success.

It was a high-risk gamble, one that could have caused significant damage if it had failed.

Yet Kayak executed the risky play without hesitation—and succeeded.

High-risk, high-reward.

The thrill of seeing a gamble play out successfully gave the viewers a subtle rush of excitement.

Looking back, Kayak’s move was the best possible play under the circumstances.

As Hanmo marveled at the previous play, he also realized something important.

The reason why the gallery was full of nothing but talk about Kayak’s game was simple.

“You can’t help but focus entirely on the game.”

The only thing worth discussing in Kayak’s stream was the game itself.

Usually, when a streamer’s broadcast was relayed through the gallery, all sorts of topics would come up.

Often, the chat would be so chaotic that it became impossible to guess what the streamer was actually doing.

But how was Kayak’s stream different?

Despite viewers asking him to turn on his mic, Kayak remained silent, focusing solely on playing the game.

A streamer who didn’t communicate.

Some people left the stream, disappointed, but Kayak captivated even those viewers with his gameplay alone.

And that made sense.

If Kayak continued to pull off high-stakes plays like the one before, viewers would naturally stick around.

It was then that Hanmo felt a chill run down his spine.

A terrifying thought crossed his mind.

“Could this all be intentional…?”

No camera, no mic—a highly experimental setup for a streamer.

After all, the main appeal of personal streams was the real-time communication with viewers.

So, what was Kayak aiming for by forgoing that advantage?

“To make people focus on his gameplay.”

He had a small but noticeable presence in the gallery.

Anyone who frequented Abyss Gallery would stop by his stream out of curiosity, just like Hanmo did.

And once they entered?

Even though Kayak said nothing, the viewers were actively chatting away, creating a strange scene.

And before they knew it, they were slowly getting sucked in.

Admiring Kayak’s play, sharing their thoughts through the chat, another new game starting, and then witnessing another jaw-dropping play.

It was like a trap, a structure similar to an antlion pit.

By the time you snapped out of it, you were already deep in the swamp, struggling to swim out.

“Kayak, this terrifying guy…”

That’s how confident he was in his skills.

Kayak was saying he didn’t need a camera or a microphone to grab people’s attention—his skills alone were enough.

That’s why he had prepared this setup.

From the stream’s settings to every little detail, everything was meticulously planned out.

This streamer, Kayak, had designed it all.

Realizing Kayak’s true intentions, Hanmo couldn’t hide his fear.

As he was reeling from the cunning and meticulous nature of his rival…

[MicPlease has donated 10,000 won!]

“Please turn on the mic, pleaseee ㅠㅠ Please turn on the mic, pleaseee ㅠㅠ”

A viewer had donated a certain amount and sent a message along with it.

It seemed they had precisely timed it to the moment after the game ended, thinking there wouldn’t be another chance.

“Talking about the mic, are they kidding me?”

This streamer, Kayak, had deliberately chosen a no-cam, no-mic setup to make viewers focus on the game!

There was no way he would turn on the mic!

Hanmo laughed to himself, mocking the viewer.

But then—

Tap tap.

“Huh?”

Contrary to his expectations, a rustling sound came through.

This sound was all too familiar to Hanmo, who had years of experience both watching streams and streaming himself.

This sound, it was…

“The sound of turning on a mic?”

It was the sound of lightly tapping a microphone before speaking into it.

Following that, a nervous-sounding breath came through.

Hanmo’s mind momentarily froze.

“The mic was off, huh? I’ve been talking to myself this whole time…”

A voice echoed through the stream—a low yet clear, pleasant voice.

Hanmo gasped.

At the same time, the chat froze in an instant.

“Ah, hello. My name is CamillaIsWeak. Shortened, it’s Kayak.”

Once again, the voice softly tickled his ears.

Hanmo, realizing what was happening with his not-so-slow mind, muttered in utter shock, his voice squeezed out from within.

“No way…”

[???]

[What’s going on?]

[That’s a girl’s voice.]

[Kayak is a girl?]

[? Going to bed now?]

Just like his reaction, the chat, which had been frozen, quickly exploded with confusion.