Master Swordsman’s Stream - Chapter 116

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 116

A metallic click sounded as the conveyor belt clicked into place.
To anyone watching, the stage was clearly cleared.
Seeing this, Seo Jun offered a single comment.
“See? We didn’t need two people after all. That’s a God Game right there.”

-Why is this a God Game lmao
-The game’s got freedom to it lmao This is Assassination Guild tier difficulty
-Absolute madman. Seriously insane lmaooo
-Is this even cooperation?

“Let’s check out the next room.”
Seo Jun ignored Tae-u and walked toward the door.
He could hear screaming coming from inside, and he was curious what they were doing in there.
The atmosphere felt like something could jump out at any moment—genuinely creepy—but he doubted it’d be that bad.
He’d check on them after this was over.
Seo Jun read the chat and spoke.
“Yeah, let’s leave him here.”
He didn’t bother explaining what exactly they were leaving behind.

-Wait lmaooo are you saying you’re gonna do the next room solo too?
-Abandoned lmaooo
-Tae-u, just keep screaming and solve those puzzles lmao
-Everyone act like we don’t know anything if you go over there
-Solidarity incoming

As he approached the door, Seo Jun spotted the control panel exactly where he’d expected it.
Because it had spun through the air, a nail was embedded at an angle.
Even firing a nail the normal way wouldn’t send it perfectly straight, so the angle made sense.
But this angle was severe—almost scraping the wall.
“I can’t fix this one. The difficulty is harder than I expected.”
As he entered the next room, the platform descended again.
Seo Jun pulled two nails from his waistband, loading one into the Nail Gun and holding the other between his fingers.
After a brief, focused breath, he fired the first nail and raised the Nail Gun.
Whisper!
This time the door was on the left again, just like before.
Normally, with Tae-u’s help using wind, the nail would curve smoothly and embed cleanly.
But Seo Jun’s nail flew straight into the side wall beside it, traveling in a line until it passed that wall—and then the nail he’d fired second caught it head-on.
Crack!
The collision sent it bouncing at a corrected angle, and this time the nail seated perfectly in the control panel.
Hidden from view, but he could tell.
Click.
A low whirring sound accompanied the platform rising.

-Oh! Nail-to-nail cooperation!!!
-Lmao that’s actual cooperation lmao
-Left hand and right hand cooperation!

“This is pretty fun.”
The whole sequence—timing the flying nail, adjusting its trajectory mid-flight—was genuinely difficult.
Seo Jun was confident he could pull off the Assassination Guild’s famous Parrying technique with his eyes closed once he’d read the first movement.
But this? Not so much.
Every moment demanded full concentration.
The sensation of releasing a nail from his fingertips, aiming the Nail Gun, pulling the trigger—every instant required focus.
At this level of difficulty, with this kind of payoff…
“Everyone, this is the Tang Clan’s Secret Assassination Technique, so please keep it secret.”
The Tang Clan would definitely come drooling if they saw this broadcast.
Or maybe not.

-Wait, the Tang Clan has a Nail Gun?
-How fallen must the Tang Clan be to use nails as weapons lmaooo
-Dang So… the protagonist struggling to revive his ruined clan!
-Goes to the Demonic Cult, serves the Heavenly Demon, all to restore his family lmaooo

Dang So was definitely going to message him if he watched the stream right now: “Who said I served anyone?!”
Anyway, Seo Jun found himself wanting to try more.
For him, high difficulty equaled fun.
So it wasn’t random that he’d picked strange traits back in For the Sect either.
Though if asked directly, he’d vehemently deny it while saying how amazing the Heavenly Demon Divine Art and the Xuan Huo Technique were.
Seo Jun moved to the next room and fired nails, then the Nail Gun.
Then the room after that.
After clearing four rooms total, an actual interior space finally appeared.
It was then, as his concentration broke, that Seo Jun swallowed hard after reading the chat.

-The ad sponsor is literally crying lmaooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
-The entire puzzle got destroyed lmaooooooooooo after we made all of it lmaooooooooo
-Turned the horror vibe into comedy lmao
-Tae-u’s still solving puzzles lmaooooooooooooooooooo
-Ah, story skip.

Right, of course.

* * *

Meanwhile, Tae-u was…
“Come on. It’s not that I’m scared something’s gonna jump out—I’m just being cautious! Okay, let’s go now. I’m curious if Seo Jun already solved the puzzles before me. Judging by the fact he hasn’t come here, looks like I beat him to it. Let me go check his room and mess with him a—huh?”
Click.
Click-click.
“What? Why won’t this open? Wait, was the door even closed before? What the…”
Tae-u tried turning the door handle, confusion written all over his face.
The moment Seo Jun destroyed the stage’s control panel, the platform had risen and the exits to the adjacent rooms slammed shut.
Most viewers were watching both streams and easily pieced this together, but Tae-u wasn’t.
How could he know when the viewers were all keeping it secret?
“Why are you laughing? I said why are you laughing!”

-lmao
-lmao
-lmao
-You’re trapped

“Hey, Seo Jun? Hey! You out there? Did you close the door?”
It was half right.
“Don’t mess with me, Seo Jun.”
This was creepy.

* * *

-Who kept copying the map structure anyway?
-Should’ve made it unpredictable if you gave the Streamer an ad deal lmao
-This is definitely the dev company’s fault
-You gotta accept this much, right?
-Did they know and hire him anyway? lmao

“Hmm…”
“…”
Han Seung-chul, Manager at Stream Korea.
He selected indie games for development support and handled difficulties during the dev process—in crude terms, he held the purse strings. In front of game companies, his position made him always the buyer.
Yet here he was, nervous in front of this CEO.
Not that he was abusive with his power despite being the buyer; he was naturally attentive and considerate—but his nervousness now had a different edge to it.
Han currently sat with the CEO in a private room at a restaurant, watching the ad stream in a quiet environment.
But the moment Seo Jun pulled that stunt, the atmosphere turned cold.
“…”
Han considered it.
All those puzzles, all those game worlds—created through countless hours of thought, meant to be shown and experienced by gamers.
What did it feel like to watch them skipped in one shortcut?
‘Is it even an exploit…’
By definition, a shortcut meant a simpler, easier path.
But firing a nail first, then hitting it to adjust its trajectory? He questioned whether that was simple or easy.
No—there was no question.
‘No way anyone does that.’
Even Monster probably didn’t think it was worth fixing, because this was something only Seo Jun could pull off.
The skill matched the man who’d led the weak but cunning Demonic Cult to victory. Impossible to deny.
So it wasn’t an exploit.
And since Seo Jun went back and continued normally, there wasn’t really a problem to speak of.
Just an incident, nothing more.

[The system lets users restart at any stage! Is. This. Really. A. God. Game? Incredible!]

-Brother, don’t do awkward acting lmao
-His tone completely changed lmao
-Cynical –> Clown
-Watching the Streamer act made me realize: his smooth, flowing character work back in the Demonic Cult days was his true self
-Real

The situation itself was funny enough that it could actually be good.
Except.
The CEO kept quiet, and that’s why Han was nervous.
Did he feel betrayed by the Heavenly Demon he’d trusted? Maybe defecting to the great orthodox Orthofaction would’ve been better.
The CEO stared down at the floor.
Han didn’t assume he was hurt or heartbroken over it.
Creators had their own suffering, and he couldn’t understand that.
“Are you alright?”
“Of course I’m fine.”
The CEO lifted his head and spoke.
Wait.
He’s smiling.
“Haha! Looks like I made the right choice recruiting him!”
“R-really?”
“Yeah, I got interested in him after seeing exactly that kind of thing. Of course I never expected such a loophole in our game. But I kept thinking ‘surely not, surely not,’ and then he destroys the control panel like that.”
So he was happy?
Thank goodness.
“I mean, it’s ridiculous when you think about it. Haha.”
“His skill is genuinely impressive.”
Why’d he go to the Demonic Cult?
Ugh.
He hasn’t participated in the Battlefield for years anyway, so his mind kept wandering elsewhere.
It’s because he has to keep tabs on gaming communities that he knows every development in the Battlefield.
“But I think there’s another reason the Streamer showed such spontaneous behavior.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at this.”
The CEO handed him his phone.
Ah.
So he’d been doing something on it the whole time.
The website on the phone was Noh Hyeop.
Among countless posts, a few caught Han’s eye and made him understand why the CEO had been gripping his phone down below.

[Is the Tang Clan really capable of this?]
[The Heavenly Demon’s consistent in action-adventure-horror games too lmao]
[Heavenly Demon Heavenly Demons]
[Can you guys stop calling him Sword Master already?]

The CEO spoke.
“That playstyle is unique to this Streamer. And it’s the kind of play worth discussing in communities, right?”
“That’s true.”
“So naturally, viewers watching the For the Sect stream would write posts about it, and community users seeing those posts would get interested and come to the broadcast, correct?”
“They would.”
The viewer count was already climbing in real time.
Seo Jun started with 19,000 viewers, had 21,000 by the time they started watching, and had just hit 24,000.
“So the Final Chase Battle coming up will happen with the maximum number of people watching.”
If the broadcast hits maximum viewers at the moment they’d been building anticipation for…
Streamer Seo Jun must have known this somehow—and from their perspective, it was an incredibly favorable situation. Undeniable.
“That’s…!”
“Streamer Heavenly Demon is extremely smart and calculating. Think about it.”
The CEO had been talking about the Battlefield.
But Han remembered something that had happened before.
‘Now that I think about it…’
There was that incident where the Training Grounds announced a ranking reveal timed perfectly with an ad slot!
Every single action, both then and now, was planned?
Really?
Goosebumps covered Han’s entire body.

[Oh, this puzzle works this way. Absolutely. Well. Made. So you just fire the nail with left and right hands, huh? Please be quiet. I wouldn’t know how to do that.]

-“Wouldn’t” know
-So you CAN do it!
-Meanwhile the dude’s solving puzzles lightning fast lmao

Well.
Watching someone deliver such breezy, shameless broadcast-optimized lines, people call it “instinct.”
And there are only two ways to develop that instinct.
Either you’re naturally shameless enough to be a streamer, or your sharp mind analyzed streaming and crafted this concept.
If the latter, then even that impressive and vicious personality on broadcast was calculated.
And that was more likely.
How could anyone be that shameless naturally?
Seo Jun continued solving puzzles with ease.
Reading the pattern in one glance and executing smoothly looked genuinely impressive, and Han’s suspicion hardened into certainty.
“We’re almost done.”
“Right. You estimated about an hour from Chapter 1 entry to the boss—or rather, the chase battle?”
“Yeah, but he made it in thirty minutes.”
They watched Seo Jun enter the final stage.
Then the CEO suddenly remembered that earlier conversation and gave Han some bone-deep advice.
“Manager, remember that partner streamer idea you mentioned? If it happens and you need to lock in this streamer, do it fast.”
“Why? So competitors don’t poach him?”
“No.”
The CEO shook his head firmly.
“It’s just cheaper right now.”
“What? Isn’t there a bubble in his valuation? Shouldn’t we wait and propose later? Since contracts renew annually…”
Over 20,000 viewers now—wouldn’t buying in be a loss?
But the CEO’s logic ran differently.
“Which is exactly why we should buy now.”
Buy?
The CEO—who would later watch Seo Jun’s viewer count multiply and keep thinking “I should’ve bought then”—didn’t know that yet. He could only give Han a confused look.
“Buy now. Right now.”
This is when it’s cheapest.
Faced with sincere eyes and advice born from experience, Han could only nod along.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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