Chapter 86: Burnout

Streamer Taker, Real Name: Jang Gun-hee.

He had an exceptional ability to grasp the prevailing trends.

And what are trends, exactly?

The customs and tendencies of an era—the flow of time itself.

And what is the flow of time?

Simply put, it’s like the meta in gaming.

The prevailing strategies, the strongest picks, the most effective heroes or team compositions of the moment.

The meta in “meta-analysis.”

Just like a skilled gamer who analyzes the meta, Taker had a sharp instinct for recognizing trends in streaming.

He could identify what was in demand faster than anyone else.

And according to his latest assessment, the current trend in the personal streaming world was…

<Yesterday’s KayakTube Summary ㅋㅋㅋㅋ>

<Why isn’t the streamer going live these days?>

<So basically, the takeaway is that the streamer’s teacher is a Camilla look-alike, a drop-dead gorgeous woman (who also happens to have a massive baby food dispenser), right?>

It was Kayak.

After scouring multiple online communities, Taker had reached his conclusion.

Shockingly, Kayak’s influence had spread throughout the streaming world, surpassing even the latest viral internet memes.

“It’s like an epidemic spreading.”

Taker knew it was an odd comparison, but he couldn’t think of a more fitting one.

Just like the plagues that ravaged medieval Europe, Kayak’s presence had first taken root in the Abyss Gallery before steadily expanding its reach.

The funniest part?

Kayak herself seemed completely unaware of this phenomenon—or simply didn’t care.

While others went to extreme lengths to gain fame, hiring online promoters and engaging in publicity stunts, she had effortlessly achieved a level of popularity that countless streamers could only dream of.

“Well… maybe not effortlessly.”

Taker quickly corrected himself.

On second thought, it wasn’t easy at all.

Kayak’s journey had been nothing short of bizarre.

Her seemingly nonsensical antics had somehow evolved into a formidable presence, drawing in both new audiences and longtime fans alike.

To those encountering her for the first time, she was an intriguing personality.

To those who already knew her, she was both familiar and refreshingly unpredictable.

But none of that really mattered to Taker.

The past—how Kayak once guest-starred on his stream before launching her own, how she gained traction through his Abyss Streamer Tournament—was irrelevant now.

What mattered was the present.

Not the past, not the future—this exact moment.

Kayak was on an upward trajectory, and she wasn’t slowing down.

Barring any major incidents, Taker estimated that her momentum would continue.

And if it did?

Kayak had the potential to shatter the four-monarch system—the long-standing dominance of the “Big Four” corporate-backed streamers on Twishy.

Analyzing her ever-increasing viewership, Taker realized this possibility wasn’t some distant fantasy.

It was a very real and imminent future—and it thrilled him.

“Even on VTuber streams, her appearances rake in the highest views…”

Whenever Kayak participated in events—whether it was battles with pro players or the Abyss Streamer Tournament—those segments always had the strongest audience reactions.

The comment section would be flooded with people asking, “Who is this?”

And before long, Kayak’s fanbase would swoop in, spamming likes and pushing engagement through the roof.

Long story short:

Taker had always been great at reading trends.

And right now, the biggest trend was Kayak.

Which meant…

He was going to ride the Kayak wave.

From now on, whenever he planned new content, Kayak would be his top priority for guest appearances.

“A completely rational decision.”

After all, the reason Taker had managed to maintain his career—despite frequently hearing things like, ‘Why is he even considered part of Twishy’s Big Four? He’s so boring’—

was because he always knew exactly which bandwagon to jump on.

Top of Form

He Prioritized Practicality Over Emotion.

If something didn’t seem right, he adapted.

He kept his mind open and changed direction when necessary.

The trends in the streaming world shifted rapidly.

A topic would heat up quickly—only to fade just as fast.

Only those who could keep up with this ever-changing landscape could survive in the industry.

It was this mindset that had kept him at the top as a streamer.

That was also why he engaged in a rather risky habit for a content creator—daily deep dives into online communities.

It was a dangerous endeavor, bordering on self-destructive.

One wrong move, and he could end up spiraling into an information overload, unable to escape.

Still, it was a necessary sacrifice.

As usual, today’s community exploration had helped him map out his approach and content direction.

Unfortunately, there was one problem.

<Holding my breath until Kayak goes live. Hup!>

“What is she even doing these days…?”

The person he had chosen to bet on—Kayak—wasn’t streaming.

She had to go live first before he could even think about reaching out to her.

There was no way he could ask someone to join his content when they were on break.

Taker decided to wait patiently for the right moment.

—So anyway, what I said was—

—Do you know Dr. Hong?

—Today, I went to a manga café in Incheon’s Seo-gu district—

Swipe. Swipe.

Every flick of his finger brought up a new video.

Different topics. Different people.

A constant stream of VTuber Shorts, short clips no longer than a minute.

Lying in bed, he kept scrolling mindlessly.

To be honest, none of them were particularly entertaining.

But for some reason, he just couldn’t find the motivation to do anything else.

—Why is an eagle’s beak yellow? According to Dr. Hank at Johns Hopkins University—

“Oh…?”

If a video was boring, he’d skip it.

If it seemed slightly interesting, he’d watch it a little longer.

His brain felt like it was melting.

And yet, there was no better way to lazily kill time while lying around.

Maybe he was burned out.

He wasn’t sure, but all he wanted to do was waste time doing absolutely nothing.

Five days ago, he had announced an indefinite break to his viewers.

Two days ago, he had stopped checking the comments.

It stung too much to see the expectations of those who still wanted him to stream—expectations he couldn’t fulfill.

“All I have to do is sit in my room and stream… so why can’t I even do that?”

Had he grown complacent now that he no longer had to worry about money?

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause.

Why had this inner demon settled inside him?

When did it start?

Not too long ago.

At least, not before he had watched the roundtable discussion stream—he had been perfectly fine back then.

If he had to narrow it down, it probably started around the time Snowflake Queen Camilla made her appearance.

“But wait… wasn’t that a good time?”

Camilla had just received a massive buff.

She had become stronger than ever.

He had been proud to show her off in front of others.

So why had things changed so suddenly?

He had no idea.

For some reason, he didn’t feel like playing Camilla anymore.

And since he wasn’t playing Camilla, he wasn’t playing Abyss.

And since he wasn’t playing Abyss, he stopped streaming altogether.

A perfect chain reaction leading to his complete stagnation.

“I don’t feel like playing Camilla…?”

That was a serious problem.

Why?

This had never happened before.

Rain or shine, he had always played Camilla.

Even when she was stuck in Tier 5.

Even when she was plagued by bugs and unfair nerfs.

He had never strayed from her.

So why now?

Even with the upcoming nerfs, she had just received one of the biggest buffs in history and her most stunning skin yet—

So why was he feeling this way?

After agonizing over it, he decided that while he couldn’t find a solution, he could at least try a different approach.

The solution was to go live and ask the viewers.

Rather than struggling alone with my mediocre brain, it seemed far more efficient to explain my symptoms and gather opinions from the collective intelligence of the audience.

These were people who cared about my stream as if it were their own.

They would take my concerns seriously.

And so, after a long time, I finally turned on the stream.

[The world has returned… The world has returned… The world has returned…]

[Warmth… Is this a stream? Warmth… Is this a stream? Warmth… Is this a stream?]

[What were you doing? What were you doing? What were you doing? What were you doing?]

[Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.]

It had been five days and four hours and thirty-eight minutes since my last stream.

The long wait had driven the viewers to the brink of madness.

Some of them seemed to have already lost it.

As the number of viewers skyrocketed, the unmoderated chat turned into a chaotic mix of excitement and insanity.

Unbeknownst to her, Kayak was something like the Lich King of Twishy.

And for someone like her to disappear for five whole days without warning—

The ones who suffered weren’t just the fans but also her fellow streamers.

Particularly those who had frequent interactions with her—

Her teammates from the Abyss Streamer Tournament, Nicang, Yuhye, and the others.

Among them, Yuhye had it the worst.

As Kayak’s rival, she had borne the brunt of the chaos, dealing with an endless flood of unruly viewers.

The exhaustion was starting to show on her face.

Either way, the viewers were simply thrilled that their favorite streamer was finally back.

The online streaming world was full of problems.

There were plenty of streamers who had left a vague notice and disappeared without a trace.

It was a common occurrence.

It shouldn’t happen anymore.

Especially not to someone like Kayak, who was truly irreplaceable.

For that reason, the majority of viewers had already made up their minds.

They would welcome her back with open arms.

They would comfort her, pamper her, and shower her with affection.

No matter what she said, no matter what had happened, they would listen with understanding hearts.

As long as it wasn’t about some scandalous boyfriend rumor, they didn’t care.

Of course, considering she had vanished for five whole days, some doubted her purity.

But that was just speculation.

Without solid proof or an official statement, it didn’t matter.

That’s how precious Kayak was to them.

Even if she suddenly announced her retirement from Abyss,

Even if she abruptly declared her marriage,

They would accept it.

“Guys.”

However, after a long moment of silence—

When Kayak finally spoke—

Even the most mentally prepared viewers were caught completely off guard.

“I don’t feel anything when I look at Camilla anymore. What do I do?”