I May Be a Virtual Youtuber, but I Still Go to Work

First, he stole kills and provoked Mugeon.

But when that didn’t work, he showed off his skills, forcing Mugeon to pay attention.

That alone was insane.

If you don’t get what I mean, go watch Mugeon’s YouTube highlights.

The fact that this guy was keeping up with him meant he was at least Master rank—if not higher.

Once Mugeon started paying attention, he got anxious.

At first, he treated it as a joke.

But then, when he rushed the mountain lodge, he hurriedly secured a kill with his pistol, afraid the sniper would steal it.

And just when you thought the sniper would keep up his kill-stealing antics, he changed tactics again.

Instead of stealing kills, he stole all the healing items from the corpses.

→ He knew Mugeon would tunnel vision on getting kills.

→ He won the psychological battle.

When this all happened in the span of just a few minutes, even Mugeon started losing his mind.

[Comments]

— “Glad it’s not just me noticing this, LOL.”

— “Not all stream snipers are the same, huh?”

ㄴ “The best ones know how to entertain.”

— “Why do I feel like this sniper’s gonna end up on a VTuber platform soon?”

ㄴ “Turn your stream on already.”

ㄴ “LMAO, for real.”

Sniping is an art form.

The ultimate goal isn’t just about winning—it’s about shaking up the streamer, making the viewers laugh, and keeping things entertaining.

It’s about playing the game, but never crossing the line.

That’s the mark of a professional sniper.

And because I’d been doing this for so long, even though I was trolling Mugeon, I wasn’t doing it just to be an asshole.

I just wanted to push things to the point where he’d recognize me.

And the moment he said—

“What kind of asshole is this...?”

I knew I’d achieved my goal.

— “LMAO, that’s a compliment.”

— “We got a rare Mugeon ‘compliment’ moment.”

— “Outside of pro matches, when’s the last time he reacted like this?”

Sure, I’d talked plenty of shit about Mugeon before.

But it’s not like I actually hated the guy.

I didn’t want to ruin the mood of his stream either.

More importantly, I had to watch his chat’s reaction.

Right now, they were laughing, but they were still Mugeon’s fans.

If he got really pissed off, his audience would turn on me instantly.

Especially since Mugeon’s audience had a strict pro-gamer mindset—if they thought I was just being annoying, I’d get flamed off the internet.

I wasn’t just some anonymous stream sniper anymore, either.

I was a Parallel employee, working for a company with a reputation to protect.

Sure, I could complain about the CEO being a greedy, overworking, underpaying tyrant, but—

Let’s be honest.

Parallel was my dream job.

I wasn’t about to jeopardize that just for some cheap laughs.

If I wanted to survive in this industry, I needed to know when to pull back.

Besides, whether I won or lost the bet didn’t really matter anymore.

I came here to see Mugeon’s real skills up close.

And I started the bet to get him to play seriously.

Now that I’d done that—

All that was left was to enjoy the fight.

[Mugeon: Alright. I’m done playing around. You’re actually pretty good. No more holding back.]

— “Oh shit.”

— “HE’S PISSED.”

— “MUGEON’S GETTING SERIOUS.”

Time to see what a former pro was really capable of.

Could I keep up?

Or was there really a level beyond my reach?

As I thought that—

A sudden burst of gunfire echoed nearby.

A teamfight was breaking out.

Found it.

That was today’s hotspot.

I wasn’t gonna miss out on the action.

I sprinted toward the fight, caught sight of an enemy’s exposed back, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

{{MomoAnti >> (Head) GrandmaBossamFromJangchungdong}}

Wait.

Why didn’t I get the kill?

I turned my head just in time to see—

Mugeon.

Sliding right past me, reloading his pistol.

Not only had he stolen my kill, but he had also looted the body before I could even react.

And with an air of absolute smugness, he walked right up to me and said—

[Stealing kills... tastes pretty damn good. Have you been enjoying this all by yourself?]

Chat exploded.

— “OH MY GOD.”

— “HE JUST USED HIS OWN LINE AGAINST HIM.”

— “THIS IS PERSONAL NOW.”

So he wants to play dirty too?

Well then.

I had no choice but to take this seriously now.

*

MomoAnti was one of the best stream snipers Mugeon had ever encountered—both in terms of skill and psychological warfare.

In fact, it felt like they knew exactly how Mugeon would react to certain situations, as if they had studied him for a long time.

If someone with a weaker mental game had been MomoAnti’s target, they might have already self-destructed from the psychological pressure alone.

But Mugeon was a pro.

He had experienced far worse mental breakdowns in high-stakes tournaments.

More importantly, once a bet had been made, there was no room for sportsmanship.

Back when he was active in the pro scene, as long as it wasn’t breaking the rules, Mugeon did anything necessary to win.

Which meant that MomoAnti stealing his kills wasn’t bad manners—it was simply the optimal strategy to win the bet.

And if that was the case, there was no reason Mugeon couldn’t copy them completely.

He glanced at the kill counter at the top right corner of his screen. The remaining survivors...

—35 left—

It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the match started, and already 35 players remained out of the original 90.

At an absurd pace, entire squads had been getting wiped out.

This was how casual games worked.

Even players who normally played carefully in ranked matches tended to play aggressively and throw themselves into fights here.

Because, in casual matches, there was no rank to lose.

Which meant—there was no time to hesitate.

At this rate, there was no telling when the 35 survivors would suddenly drop to 10, or even 5.

And once the player count shrank too much, getting kills would become impossible.

"A pro should be sportsmanlike?"

What a joke.

A pro gamer, when it came to competition, had to be the most ruthless, most greedy player in the world.

Mugeon might have seemed good-natured outside of the game, but inside?

He was a beast that cared about nothing but winning.

— "LMAO, this match got dirty real fast."

— "Hey, the other guy started it first!"

— "This is 100:0 in Mugeon's favor."

:: Anonymous donor has gifted 1,000 Clouds! ::

:: Damn, pros really do have pro-level learning speed. ::

The reason Mugeon had started swearing openly with Momo?

That, too, was because of a tournament.

He had gotten too invested in winning a prize-money competition, and when Momo had started making dumb mistakes, he had lost it and let out a stream of profanity.

He had apologized afterward and they had become good friends, but—

It showed just how seriously Mugeon took games.

— "LET’S GOOO!"

— "LMAO, he stole the kill AGAIN."

— "Wait, no way he actually pulled that off?"

"Hmm."

— "HE GOT ONE BACK!"

— "NICEEEE!"

— "Both of them are playing so dirty right now, LOL."

"Good. This is fun."

For fifteen minutes, the two of them stole and counter-stole kills, locked in a fierce back-and-forth battle.

Until, finally, the play zone had shrunk so small that there was hardly any space left to hide.

3 players remaining.

Mugeon.

MomoAnti.

And a lone final enemy.

And when Mugeon finally pulled up the scoreboard—

(1P) MovGun — 13/0/3 — Damage Dealt: 4,201

(3P) MugeonIsAFamousMomoAnti — 13/0/3 — Damage Dealt: 4,024

— "?????"

— "LMAO, NO WAY THEY'RE TIED."

— "And there’s only ONE person left?!"

At this point, curiosity about MomoAnti had reached its peak.

Who the hell was this guy?

How could he possibly keep up with Mugeon this well?

If this were just another chaotic brawl, people would have ignored it.

But when one of the fighters is a former pro—

It was only natural to wonder who the other guy was.

And that curiosity quickly translated into donations.

:: Bet Mission: Win the bet and make them reveal their voice — 612,000 won ::

Mugeon was just as curious.

Just who was this sniper?

He wasn’t a pro, that much was obvious.

But among amateurs, he was one of the best.

He was so good that Mugeon wanted to invite him to a private match.

‘Damn it. I should’ve invited him instead of SignalFlare.’

But the invitation was already sent.

Still, if Mugeon could win the bet, he could at least get his contact info.

That way, the next time there was an open slot, he could invite him immediately.

‘Alright. First, I have to win this bet.’

Mugeon tightened his grip on his sniper rifle and glanced at MomoAnti.

— "LMAO, look at this guy. He’s not moving at all."

— "He’s waiting for Mugeon to find the enemy so he can steal the kill, LOL."

Just like chat had said, MomoAnti wasn’t moving.

He had picked a safe position and wasn’t making any moves.

His plan was obvious—

He was waiting for Mugeon to find the last player, then he’d try to steal the kill.

Mugeon wasn't about to let that happen.

He checked his inventory.

5 smoke grenades left.

Enough to completely cover two-thirds of the shrinking battlefield.

Without hesitation, he threw them all toward where the final enemy was likely hiding.

— "BIG BRAIN MOVE!"

— "This is genius. No more kill-stealing!"

— "NOW’S YOUR CHANCE, GO GO GO!"

Now, even if Mugeon found the enemy first,

MomoAnti wouldn’t be able to steal the last hit.

To make things even harder, Mugeon switched weapons—to a bow.

No gunfire noise.

Which meant MomoAnti wouldn’t even be able to track the fight through sound.

To top it off, his ultimate ability had just recharged.

Now, even in the thickest smoke, he could see enemy positions.

Mugeon charged forward.

MomoAnti didn’t follow.

He peeked out from cover but only watched as Mugeon moved.

‘What the hell? Did he give up?’

Moments later, inside the smoke cloud, Mugeon found the final player.

First arrow—HEADSHOT.

2/3 of their shield—GONE.

Second arrow—direct hit!

Their shield shattered, leaving them below 50% HP.

Now, just one more shot—and Mugeon would win the bet.

BANG!

A single, sharp pistol shot echoed through the battlefield.

A rainbow-colored banner spun onto the screen, marking the match’s end.

< CHAMPIONS! >

Mugeon immediately checked the final kill feed.

{{MugeonIsAFamousMomoAnti >> (Head)(Kill) CampingAtBanpoZaigate}}

A pistol icon.

And a headshot marker.

The final kill was stolen—by MomoAnti, who had never left the smoke’s edge.

— "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

— "???????"

— "HOW DID HE EVEN LAND THAT?!"

— "IS THIS GUY CHEATING?!"

One viewer had a theory.

:: Anonymous donor has gifted 1,000 Clouds! ::

:: Probably stream-sniped his position, LOL. ::

— "Oh, that makes sense."

— "Yeah, stream-sniping explains it."

"No."

Mugeon denied it immediately.

"That wasn’t stream-sniping."

Even if he was watching the stream,

there was a 3-5 second delay.

There was no way he could calculate the exact shot based on that alone.

Which meant...

This was either raw skill... or hacks.

"MomoAnti... did you seriously just hit that shot using only footsteps?"

MomoAnti responded.

[Sound. Mini-map.]

Mugeon let out a breath.

"Holy shit."

"Luck," he muttered. "That was pure luck."

But MomoAnti... disagreed.

[Incorrect. That was skill.]

“...I want to see you play sometime. Would you be interested in joining a private match?”

But before Mugeon could even consider getting his contact information—

MomoAnti refused immediately.

[Unnecessary. You’ll see for yourself.]

"? What do you mean?"

MomoAnti’s response was cryptic.

[Reason. Revealed in 60 hours.]