Chapter 3: There is usually a reason why it is

‘I only made things that I personally liked,’ I thought.

For example, let’s say a game would sell better without cute girl characters. Even then, I would still include them because I believed they made the game better.

Of course, that didn’t mean I forced my taste on everyone. If I truly made a game completely based on my preferences, I guarantee no one else in the world would play it except for me.

‘People’s preferences, when pushed to the extreme, tend to converge on something that only one person in the entire world might like,’ I thought.

As a creator, finding a middle ground was essential. To have a long-lasting career, you needed to make something that both you and others enjoyed. In my case, I compromised in areas outside the actual game content. I maximized my skills and chose genres that sold well. Since I enjoyed most genres, it didn’t matter much what I picked.

Given that, adding a bit of marketing through live streaming wouldn’t hurt. After all, I wasn’t picky about anything outside of the game’s content.

But “can do it” and “should do it” were entirely different matters.

There had to be a decent audience for it to have any impact. If fewer than ten people were watching, promoting my game through streaming wouldn’t work.

Could I even be good at live streaming? I had no idea—I knew nothing about it. My knowledge was limited to a few videos I’d seen on MiTube. In gaming terms, it was like trying to play without even having a Steam account. I was clueless and probably better off staying silent.

Still, giving it a shot didn’t seem like a bad idea.

With the PC game market in ruins, I had nothing pressing to work on anyway, leaving me with plenty of free time.

If I did start streaming, it would definitely be focused on games. That was a given if I wanted to promote my work.

A gaming stream, huh.

Based on my short experience watching MiTube, the flow of gaming streams seemed to follow this pattern: variety gaming → League of Legends, Overwatch, PUBG → transitional period → back to League of Legends. While those games can’t be streamed anymore due to the VR boom, the trend was clear—streams that focused on the most popular games always did well.

With that understanding, I had a clear idea of what kind of stream I should do.

**Eternal World**.

It was the game that had exploded and taken over the VR market.

The genre? Something like an AOS-Battle Royale-Action Game hybrid.

The latest games always tend to be a mix of various genres, making them difficult to categorize with just one label. **Eternal World** was no exception. I opened MiTube and checked the trending game videos.

As expected, Eternal World dominated the list.

On a whim, I watched all the trending videos, one by one. Each video had its unique moments of fun, but there was a clear commonality: popular streamers were all high-tier players.

Not all of them were in the top echelon, but most were in the upper ranks of Diamond—within the top 1%. It seemed like you needed to maintain that level of skill if you wanted to make a living as a game streamer.

“Alright.”

I immediately put on my VR headset.

The VR headset supported streaming directly, so I didn’t need any extra equipment—just a computer for some basic support. There was even a dedicated streaming platform for VR gaming. That explained why the gaming community I visited recently was flooded with talk about streaming. The accessibility of VR streaming had skyrocketed, and now everyone seemed to be discussing it.

I typed out the title on the virtual keyboard:
**[Newbie Climbing to Diamond]**
With a mix of amusement and grim determination, I marveled at the idea of gaining both tier and viewers simultaneously—truly a devilish tactic.

I queued up for ranked matches and spent the entire day playing. As I watched my rank shift from silver to gold, I checked the viewer count.
**[0 viewers]**

Hmm… Maybe it’s because I’m still in gold. No worries, let’s get to Diamond first.

This market was clearly a red ocean.

A “red ocean” refers to a market so oversaturated with competitors that it’s virtually impossible to stand out. In the current state of streaming, the term “red ocean” couldn’t be more fitting. The already crowded market had become even more packed with the arrival of VR technology.

The easiest way to grasp this is to sort streams by the lowest viewer count. You’d be shocked. Thousands of streamers are talking to themselves with 0 viewers, like ghosts shouting into the void. It’s almost surreal to witness.

And more than half of those 0-viewer streamers? They were all playing solo ranked *Eternal World*.

In other words, streaming *Eternal World* was the worst choice for a newcomer in an industry that was itself an overcrowded red ocean. For someone like me, just starting out, diving into this was a death sentence.

Of course, *Eternal World* streams were the most popular, with the highest potential. But in a red ocean, making the same choice as everyone else was practically a death sentence. No matter how fun the game was, it didn’t matter if nobody watched. And with the sheer number of *Eternal World* streams already flooding the market, it was hard to draw attention unless you were at the very top of the ranking ladder.

Even the best players struggled to stand out in this brutal streaming world. If you wanted to survive, let alone thrive, you needed to find a way to grab people’s attention.

That’s where someone like me, a 20-something guy with big dreams, known online as *Rozon*, entered the picture.

In the current streaming landscape, growing a *MeTube* channel was key to success. If you could catch the algorithm’s attention and had decent content quality, even a nobody could rise through the ranks. At least compared to live streaming, *MeTube* offered a better chance.

And Rozon? He got lucky.

Rozon had managed to make a strong start on *MeTube*, a platform he knew he needed to grow in order to succeed. A few months ago, the most popular rhythm game at the time experienced a major bug. As soon as Rozon saw the error, his eyes lit up. His *Eternal World* videos had barely been pulling in 10 to 50 views, and this glitch felt like an opportunity.

Without wasting any time, he quickly put together a video showing how to resolve the issue. He wasn’t the first, but he was fast enough to ride the wave. The result? The video blew up, and just like that, he gained over a thousand subscribers.

Hitting the crucial 1,000 subscriber milestone for monetization, Rozon felt like he was finally getting somewhere. From there, he kept uploading consistently: trending RPGs, VR ports of classic PC RPGs, compilations of games, and, of course, more *Eternal World* content. However, the results weren’t as promising as he’d hoped.

Currently, Rozon’s subscriber count was sitting at 1,900. In over a year, he’d only managed to gain 900 more subscribers, and he was certain that half of them were from that initial bug-fix video.

‘What’s the issue?’ he thought, furrowing his brow as he scrolled through his recent uploads:

– [Latest Trendy RPG Raid Highlights]
– [Eternal World Clips]
– [Revisiting an Old PC Game]
– [Playing a Variety Game with Real Friends]

None of them were performing as well as expected.

The view counts for Rozon’s recent videos were as follows:

– [Latest Trendy RPG Raid Highlights]: 108 views
– [Eternal World Clips]: 1,623 views
– [Revisiting an Old PC Game]: 318 views
– [Playing a Variety Game with Real Friends]: 170 views

Surprisingly, *Eternal World* had the highest view count. It was odd; he had heard that small-time streamers shouldn’t play *Eternal World*, so he had been posting those videos infrequently. Yet here it was, topping the charts.

However, the view counts for *Eternal World* fluctuated wildly. While his other game videos consistently garnered at least 100 views, *Eternal World* was unpredictable—sometimes dipping below 20 views.

It seemed clear that focusing primarily on other game content was the way to go. If he kept at it, he was bound to catch the algorithm’s attention and gain traction eventually. After all, even the most successful YouTubers had started with just 1,000 subscribers. They had all persevered until they broke through.

Rozon had no doubts that he would achieve the same. But checking those view counts stirred a desire within him to play *Eternal World* again. The last video he had uploaded for it was two months old, edited from gameplay he had recorded. To create a new video, he needed to dive back into the game.

Rozon put on his VR headset and logged into *Eternal World*. He was currently at Platinum 2. While this was the second-highest rank among his friends, he felt it didn’t truly reflect his skill level. In his opinion, he was more suited for the upper ranks of Diamond. Though Platinum was indeed the highest tier he had reached, that was mainly due to his busy schedule preventing him from playing ranked matches. If he had the time, he was confident he could quickly climb to Diamond.

Before long, he found himself in a match. *Eternal World* featured six distinct positions:

– Scout
– Guardian
– Main Carry
– Support
– Urban Core
– Outer Solo

Rozon had chosen the Support position. It involved sticking close to the Main Carry and helping them grow stronger, making it not too difficult a role.

He picked the dual-wielding character known as the “Red-Haired Orphan.”

Main Carry (2nd pick): “Is that really the right choice?”

The dual-wielding character, “Lee Sahyang,” was primarily used by Main Carries, and it was quite rare to see her played as a Support. The Main Carry reacted strongly to Rozon’s choice, but he simply typed “LOL” in the chat, rolling his eyes.

It seemed that there were many players who didn’t know how to enjoy the game. Besides, he was confident that “Lee Sahyang” was more than capable as a Support. He was certain he would have the highest damage output in this match.

Guardian (3rd pick): “Is it okay to set up the base here?”

In *Eternal World*, the objective was to capture the opponent’s base first. The location of this base wasn’t fixed; the team’s Guardian chose the concept and position for each match.

‘Why is it near the city center?’

The Main Carry was weak in the early game and had to avoid enemy encounters as much as possible, which naturally led them to select the vast urban area in the center of the map as their main battleground.

Typically, the base was set up in the city center for that reason; it made it easier for the Main Carry to drop by frequently.

‘Is my pick not to their liking? I didn’t think they’d troll like this. I’ll have to report them after the match.’

The game began. Rozon moved around the city center alongside the Main Carry. They engaged in shootouts, quickly taking down the criminal circles. This was one of the advantages of playing “Lee Sahyang” as a Support. Since she was fundamentally a character meant for the Main Carry, her damage output was high in the early game, allowing for swift takedowns.

Rozon (Support): “Should we go to the nearby mob office like this?”

Chatting Too Much (Main Carry): “You took too long on that turn.”

Rozon (Support): “Just follow me.”

The local player was quite talkative. Rozon led the Main Carry into a nearby mob office. This location was classified as a Tier 4 object among the five tiers available in the game.

It was a bit tough to not even check in at the base like this, but since “Lee Sahyang” was originally a character meant for the Main Carry, it was still manageable. Rozon initiated another round of gunfire, taking down the mobsters one by one.

After defeating the last remaining thug, Rozon took a deep breath and walked towards the safe to collect the crucial materials.

Then, he heard it.

Thud.

A strange sound came from behind him. Rozon turned his head in the direction of the noise along with the Main Carry. There stood a ninja—a lone enemy Scout.

The Main Carry quickly raised their fists and charged in. Rozon snapped back to reality and fired his weapon. However, they had already lost health and mana from the previous battles. Unable to handle even a single Scout, Rozon fell.

After respawning at the base, Rozon left with a stern expression to collect another objective.

The start wasn’t looking good.