Chapter Text
Kim Dokja had exactly three goals for today’s stream.
The first one was to test out the new PvP update that dropped earlier in the morning. The second was to maintain his dignity in front of nearly eighty thousand viewers. The third— and arguably the most important.. was to avoid talking about Yoo Joonghyuk for at least an hour.
The third goal lasted approximately about three minutes.
“You know, I think people underestimate how broad Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulders actually are.” Guwon said casually, spinning his character in the waiting lobby.
The chat immediately exploded
[kimchi_jjigae]: here we go again
[biggestfanafterguwon]: timer says three minutes and fourty nine seconds
[sleepyhuman]: new personal best
Kim Dokja frowned at the messages racing across his second monitor.
“What?”
The chat immediately filled with question marks.
“I’m just making an observation.”
The question marks doubled.
[hes_at_it_again]: observation my ass
[yjh_counter]: that’s what you said last stream
[ramyeon_addict]: and the stream before that
[cant_sleep]: and the stream before THAT
Kim Dokja rolled his eyes.
“The Supreme King is a public figure. Public figures are meant to be discussed.”
The response was immediate.
:GuwonSideEye: :GuwonSideEye: :GuwonSideEye:
:GuwonLiar: :GuwonLiar: :GuwonLiar:
Kim Dokja watched the emotes flood the chat window with growing disbelief.
“Why did I approve that one?”
Someone gifted ten subscriptions.
The chat exploded with :GuwonSimp:.
Then more :GuwonSimp:.
Then an amount of :GuwonSimp: that could only be described as malicious.
[stop_simping]: self-awareness is the first step
[mintchoco_defender]: unfortunately we’re years past that
[hes_at_it_again]: guwon talking about yoo joonghyuk count: 4
“Four isn’t even that many.”
[yjh_counter]: stream started seven minutes ago
Kim Dokja stared at the message.
“…I hate all of you.”
The chat responded with a wall of :GuwonSimp: emotes.
“Anyway,” Kim Dokja continued, adjusting his headset, “I still think people underestimate how broad Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulders actually are.”
The chat immediately began moving faster.
[hes_at_it_again]: THERE IT IS
[yjh_counter]: 5 minutes 13 seconds
[ramyeon_addict]: new season same guwon
Kim Dokja ignored them with the practiced ease of someone who had spent years dealing with his viewers.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Every time new tournament photos get released, nobody talks about the important things.”
Almost immediately, several messages appeared.
[stop_simping]: gameplay?
[mintchoco_defender]: strategy?
[hes_at_it_again]: achievements?
“Exactly.”
The chat, unsurprisingly, did not believe him.
A wall of :GuwonSideEye: emotes flooded the screen, followed by enough :GuwonLiar: emotes to completely bury the conversation. Kim Dokja clicked his tongue in annoyance, only making the emotes multiply.
Then a donation alert appeared.
The familiar chime rang through the stream, drawing everyone’s attention.
[peachsoda donated ₩10,000]
talk about his shoulders again
The reaction was immediate.
[hes_at_it_again]: NO
[yjh_counter]: DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM
[stop_simping]: WE WERE DOING SO WELL
Kim Dokja stared at the donation message for several long seconds.
“…”
The temptation was certainly there.
After all, it wasn’t as though the donor was wrong.
He could probably spend another ten minutes discussing the topic if given the opportunity.
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on who was asked—the matchmaking queue chose that exact moment to pop.
A collective sense of relief swept through the chat.
[ramyeon_addict]: saved by matchmaking
[hes_at_it_again]: thank god
Without giving himself time to reconsider, Kim Dokja immediately clicked accept.
The game loaded moments later, dropping him into a large arena surrounded by ruined stone pillars and crumbling stone walls. Sunlight filtered through the broken architecture overhead, casting long shadows across the battlefield. It was one of the newer PvP maps added in the update, though Kim Dokja paid very little attention to the scenery.
Across the map, his opponent spawned.
There was nothing remarkable about them. No recognizable guild tag. No flashy cosmetics. No exclusive title. Just a player standing quietly on the opposite side of the arena, waiting for the countdown to begin.
Kim Dokja barely spared the username a glance before looking away.
Another random opponent, then.
Well.
That was what he thought at the time.
When the countdown reached zero.
The random player immediately rushed him.
Kim Dokja barely managed to block.
”Oh.”
It was clear that it was considerably more aggressive than he had been expecting.
The clash of weapons echoed through the arena as Kim Dokja retreated back a few steps, trying to create some distance between them.
Unfortunately, his opponent didn’t seem so interested in giving him any.
“Anyway,” Kim Dokja continued as though he weren’t actively fighting for his life, “I still think people don’t appreciate how difficult it is to look that good while maintaining a professional gaming schedule.”
His opponent immediately landed a clean hit.
His health bar dropped nearly to fifteen percent.
[hes_at_it_again]: FIRST HIT OF THE MATCH
[yjh_counter]: he mentioned yjh and got punished instantly
[ramyeon_addict]: divine intervention
Kim Dokja ignored them.
“Think about it. Professional gaming requires sitting for hours every day.”
Another hit landed.
“Maintaining that physique takes commitment.”
Another hit.
“And discipline.”
Another hit.
The chat was losing its mind.
[stop_simping]: PLEASE FIGHT BACK
[mintchoco_defender]: HE’S DOING A PODCAST
[hes_at_it_again]: BRO IS LOSING HP WHILE COMPLIMENTING ANOTHER MAN
Kim Dokja clicked his tongue.
“You people wouldn’t understand.”
His opponent somehow became even more aggressive.
Every opening Kim Dokja left was punished immediately. Every dodge was anticipated. Every mistake was exploited before he could recover.
It was honestly beginning to feel personal.
Kim Dokja barely escaped another combo and rolled behind a ruined pillar.
“Also,” he continued stubbornly, “I still think the photos from last month’s sponsorship shoot were underrated.”
The random player rounded the pillar and attacked him on sight.
“See?”
A sword nearly took off half his remaining health.
“The shoulders.”
Another attack.
“The arms.”
Another attack.
“The—”
The random player launched him across the arena.
The chat exploded.
[hes_at_it_again]: NOT THE ARMS
[ramyeon_addict]: HE GOT CRITICALLY HIT FOR THAT ONE
[yjh_counter]: enemy player is tired of hearing this
At this point, Kim Dokja was beginning to agree.
His opponent seemed to become noticeably more violent every time Yoo Joonghyuk was mentioned.
Which was absurd.
There was no way a random player would care that much.
Cornered against a stone wall, Kim Dokja narrowly blocked another devastating combo.
Then he suddenly paused.
”..Why do I feel like you’re personally offended by this conversation?”
The random player responded by landing the most brutal combo of the match.
the chat completely lost it.
By the end of the match, Kim Dokja’s health bar was hanging on by a thread.
His opponent’s, meanwhile, looked almost untouched.
The difference was honestly embarrassing.
Not that Kim Dokja was willing to admit that out loud.
At least, not immediately.
He narrowly avoided another attack before getting clipped by the edge of a combo, his already pitiful health bar dropping even lower.
The chat was having the time of their lives.
[hes_at_it_again]: THIS IS HARD TO WATCH
[ramyeon_addict]: guwon please survive
[yjh_counter]: he mentioned yoo joonghyuk 23 times this match
[stop_simping]: every mention cost him 5% hp
Kim Dokja sighed dramatically as he scrambled to create some distance.
“Fine. Fine. I suppose today isn’t the day I get to discuss Yoo Joonghyuk’s p—”
He stopped himself.
The chat didn’t.
[hes_at_it_again]: it’s okay guwon
[hes_at_it_again]: you do that every stream anyway
[yjh_counter]: 27 mentions today
[ramyeon_addict]: personal best?
[stop_simping]: we used to be a gaming
[definitely_not_hsy]: thank god
Kim Dokja pretended not to read any of it.
Unfortunately, pretending became significantly more difficult when the chat immediately flooded with :GuwonSimp: emotes.
Then :GuwonLiar:.
Then an amount of :GuwonSimp: that could only be described as cyberbullying.
“I don’t know why I let you people stay here.”
[hes_at_it_again]: because we’re right
[yjh_counter]: because we have evidence
[ramyeon_addict]: because every stream eventually ends up here
Kim Dokja clicked his tongue.
The worst part was that none of them were technically wrong.
“…Well.”
He cleared his throat.
“This is a bit unfortunate.”
The random player dashed forward.
Unfortunately, the random player chose that exact moment to punish his lapse in concentration.
A combo slammed into him before he could react.
His already pitiful health bar plummeted.
For a brief moment, silence filled the stream.
Then Kim Dokja’s character dramatically collapsed onto the arena floor before dissolving into particles and teleporting back to the lobby.
The chat exploded.
[hes_at_it_again]: LMAOOOOOO
[ramyeon_addict]: ABSOLUTE DESTRUCTION
[stop_simping]: BRO GOT FARMED
[mintchoco_defender]: talk about his shoulders now
Kim Dokja leaned back in his chair and stared at the defeat screen.
“…”
“…I think the matchmaking was a little unfair.”
The chat immediately disagreed.
Before anyone could continue the argument, a notification appeared in the corner of his screen.
Opponent has invited you to voice chat.
Kim Dokja blinked.
That was unusual.
Most players left immediately after a match.
Curious, he clicked accept.
For a second, all he could hear was faint static.
Then—
“GG.”
The world stopped.
Kim Dokja froze.
The chat froze.
The voice was calm.
Low.
Familiar.
Far too familiar.
His brain immediately supplied a dozen clips, interviews, and tournament broadcasts.
No.
No, it couldn’t be.
There was absolutely no—
“You talk too much.”
The voice sounded mildly annoyed.
As if this was a conclusion they had reached after suffering through the entire match.
Then the call disconnected.
Just like that.
Gone.
Kim Dokja stared at the lobby screen.
The invitation vanished.
The player’s profile disappeared from his recent matches.
Silence settled over the stream.
For several long seconds, nobody moved.
Nobody typed.
Nobody breathed.
Kim Dokja’s brain refused to process what had just happened.
Slowly, very slowly, he turned toward his microphone.
“…”
The chat exploded.
[yjhfanclub]: NO WAY
[supremekingnation]: WAIT WAIT WAIT
[hes_at_it_again]: DID EVERYONE HEAR THAT
[ramyeon_addict]: TELL ME I’M NOT CRAZY
[stop_simping]: GUWON????
[definitely_not_hsy]: LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO
The viewer count jumped.
Then jumped again.
Kim Dokja swallowed.
“No.”
The chat got louder.
“No.”
Even louder.
“There is absolutely no way that was Yoo Joonghyuk.”
Nobody believed him.
Least of all himself.
The clips hit social media within minutes.
Kim Dokja knew this because his phone started vibrating before the stream had even recovered from the shock.
A new notification appeared.
Then another.
Then ten more.
By the time he glanced down at his screen, his mentions were completely unusable.
The chat wasn’t helping.
[hes_at_it_again]: WE’RE GOING VIRAL
[ramyeon_addict]: MOM I’M IN THE CLIP
[yjh_counter]: THIS IS A HISTORIC MOMENT
[definitely_not_hsy]: LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO
Kim Dokja seriously considered ending the stream on the spot.
Unfortunately, the internet had already decided otherwise.
The first clip appeared less than three minutes later.
Then another.
Then twelve more.
By the time the stream ended, #Guwon and #SupremeKing were trending across every platform anyone cared about.
One clip passed a million views before Kim Dokja had even logged off.
The title read:
Popular VTuber Spends Twenty Minutes Talking About Yoo Joonghyuk Before Getting Destroyed by Yoo Joonghyuk Himself
Kim Dokja stared at the title.
Then at the view count.
Then at the rapidly increasing follower count on his profile.
Then at the thousands upon thousands of comments demanding answers.
Some people wanted confirmation.
Some people wanted reactions.
A disturbing number of people were simply posting timestamps of every compliment Kim Dokja had given Yoo Joonghyuk during the match.
One account had already uploaded a compilation.
It was twenty-three minutes long.
Kim Dokja closed the tab.
Opened it again.
Closed it a second time.
A new notification appeared.
Trending #1: Guwon’s Husband
Kim Dokja stared at it.
The notification remained.
“…”
He turned his phone off.
Kim Dokja seriously considered deleting the internet.