4.
If you had to na the person most devastated by Kim Buja’s Special dungeon clear, the answer wouldn’t be obvious. It wasn’t a world-shattering achievent, and no Legendary loot had dropped. Yet public consensus pointed unanimously to a single, unfortunate soul.
—Dude went for a free carry and lost his cash ’and’ his clout.
—Did he get the ‘Special Bus Passenger’ title? Lmao.
—His streams usually get like 300k viewers, but he hit 900k yesterday, right?
—Who cares? Kim Buja snatched the ‘rising star’ title right out from under him.
Park Sijun. Before Kim Buja had burst onto the scene, Sijun was the rookie commanding everyone’s attention, ard with his status as the youngest son of the SJ Group and a Special-grade offensive class. His picture-perfect life as a man born with everything naturally attracted imnse envy and criticism. Still, he had never lost his reputation as Korea’s most promising newcor.
Now, in a matter of days, he had beco a laughingstock. It couldn’t be helped. The world only rembers winners, and tearing others down is a daily pasti. Sijun himself had once been on the other side of that equation, praised at the expense of other players.
In a way, he’d gotten what he wanted: more attention. The fact that most of it was ridicule didn’t matter. Even negative buzz was still buzz. Swallowing his bitterness, Park Sijun forced a smile.
“Fuck!”
It didn’t last long.
Even for soone born with a silver spoon, who had always gotten his way and possessed the fortitude to weather most setbacks, this ti was different. On the surface, he had achieved the numbers he’d boasted of to Kim Buja, but he hadn’t obtained a single one of his true objectives. No, there was one thing he ’should’ have secured above all else: the Legendary item. With that in hand, he could have smiled serenely through this humiliation, calmly pretending he had so secret ace up his sleeve.
“Hmph.”
“Young Master, the Jeong Cheol Guild sent this back for you.”
“Son of a...”
Just as Sijun took a deep breath to plot his next move, his equipnt and shield arrived. He wanted to scream at his subordinate to throw the gear away, but the thought of the fifty million won he’d wasted and the shimring image of that lost Legendary item paralyzed him. He reluctantly gathered his things. Though fury still simred within him, the mont his hand closed around the shield’s grip, scenes from the dungeon flooded his mind—Kim Buja’s fluid movents, using the shield not just for defense but as a seamless part of his offense.
“How does he do that?”
Sijun carried a shield to utilize a few unique skills granted by his Special-grade offensive class, but he’d never managed to use them to their full potential. Watching Kim Buja, however, sparked a revelation. ’If I use it like that, maybe I can finally master those skills I’ve struggled with.’ The system automatically corrected a player’s form, but there was a vast difference in proficiency when soone truly understood its application. His anger montarily cooled, replaced by calculation.
“You said Kim Buja has a video channel, right?” he demanded. “Get every video he’s ever posted. From the beginning.”
He had never been called a genius, a prodigy destined to be a world-class ranker. But Park Sijun knew he was far from an idiot.
“I’m going to analyze every last fra.”
Unless it was so unheard-of skill, it was ultimately just human movent. Even if he couldn’t replicate it perfectly, identifying and mimicking the patterns would be a start. He would make it work, if only to reclaim what he’d lost, even if it ant studying ga videos like howork.
“Young Master? He’s live-streaming right now. Should I bring it up?”
“He is? Yes, put it on.”
As if sensing his rival’s newfound resolve, a live broadcast appeared on Kim Buja’s channel, which had been dormant for so ti. It was as if it were waiting for him.
* * *
People were obsessed with dungeon videos, regardless of whether they were 1-star or 5-star. The reason was simple.
—The realism is off the charts.
—No kidding. The recording equipnt is the size of your finger and costs hundreds of millions.
—Watching it in VR makes your heart pound, even if it’s just a 1-star monster.
The technology had advanced to the point where it could create an experience that felt more real than reality, surpassing 2D, 3D, and even 4D. This tech allowed anyone on Earth to virtually step inside a dungeon—a whole other world—and experience it firsthand. Add to that a level of unpredictability and raw authenticity that no movie could ever script, and it was a recipe for addiction. The lack of polished, cinematic flair was a small price to pay for the genuine thrill of a dungeon. That’s why the saying went, “A player who films dungeon videos never fails.”
It was a profession with an incredibly high barrier to entry, costing millions in initial investnt, but it ca with an almost nonexistent risk of failure. Naturally, people flocked to any market with guaranteed profits. The only reason the dungeon video industry hadn’t beco a completely saturated red ocean was because of one simple fact: you had to risk your life. The system prevented players from entering dungeons below their level. Under such conditions, fighting monsters while lugging around recording gear and being conscious of the cara was a massive handicap.
The mont a player pushed their luck for a more dramatic shot, a monster’s fangs would find their throat. Those videos never saw the light of day. Furthermore, the expensive equipnt was fragile and easily destroyed. Most importantly, players—especially top rankers—were fiercely protective of their skills and hated revealing them to the world. All these factors only made the content more coveted, drawing in even larger audiences.
“Wow, why are so many people watching a re 1-star dungeon?” Jeong Seora mused aloud.
“I guess it’s because it’s a Special dungeon video,” Kim Buja replied, a small laugh escaping him as they watched the stream together.
The numbers were genuinely shocking. Just thirty minutes after going live, he had over 200,000 concurrent viewers. For a 1-star Special dungeon solo raid, the final view count could easily reach tens of millions—perhaps even break a hundred million if it went viral.
“I was a little worried, but you’ve really done it,” Seora said, impressed. “If your next videos keep this montum, you’ll be able to earn a steady inco without having to clear minor dungeons.”
He would be making a fortune unimaginable for any other 1-star player. Kim Buja nodded, satisfied, but politely rejected her suggestion.
“I’d like that, but my Class benefits from running dungeons continuously. It’s a sha.”
He turned his gaze back to the screen. His on-screen self was setting up recording equipnt inside a new dungeon, preparing for his second public clear.
“Are you sure you want to upload it raw?” Seora asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “I didn’t see any major issues, but with this many eyes on you, sensitive information could leak, Buja.”
At her worried tone, Kim Buja turned to face her. He saw his reflection in her eyes as she sat beside him, sipping wine, and a smirk played on his lips.
“In your expert opinion, Ms. Jeong, is there anything about worth stealing?”
It was a brazenly confident question. After a mont’s consideration, Seora laughed along with him.
“You have a point. It’s a little arrogant, but you’re not wrong.”
* * *
He had initially planned to edit the footage from his second Special dungeon. Just like the first ti, the monsters were tougher than his stats would suggest. His concern wasn’t about his abilities being exposed, but rather that there was no point in showing clumsy or dangerous monts. He abandoned that idea, however, the instant he felt the true power of the ‘Legendary Crystal Necklace’.
’Pshnk—’
The dagger slid into the monster’s flesh with a buttery smoothness he’d never felt before. He had deliberately chosen a dungeon teeming with enemies, one where the clear condition was to kill the boss, yet it felt leagues easier than the maze. He knew it from the very first kill. With that kind of power, why would he hesitate? His dagger beca a blur, carving through the monsters relentlessly.
The boost to his health, the 20% increase in attack power, and the 20% defense penetration were more than enough to completely negate any dungeon penalty. To top it off, the 5% chance to inflict a 2-star status ailnt triggered frequently, making each encounter even easier. There was no room for error, no unexpected variables. Stab, dodge, block, stab. At the end of that simple, brutal rhythm, the boss monster awaited.
Without a second thought, he chugged tens of millions of won worth of doping potions and launched himself into a furious one-on-one duel. The resulting video, a 6-hour and 38-minute testant to his victory, left the internet speechless.
—What level is this guy? This looks like a high-level smurfing on noobs.
—Is that really a 1-star Special dungeon? For real?
—Damn, he’s just crushing them with his stats. Look at the glow on his gear.
Countless armchair experts, all self-proclaid six-star players, analyzed the video fra by fra, but they ca up with nothing.
—What skill is he even using?
—Skill? What skill? He just pokes them with that dinky dagger and they keel over. That’s not a hunt, it’s an execution.
—‘I could solo that with the sa setup. Bet.’
—Lmao, no you couldn’t. If it was all about being gear-carried, the top guilds would already be decked out in full Legendary sets.
The video was flawless, beyond reproach. But for that very reason, the initial excitent began to fade.
—Too simple.
—Kinda boring.
—Is it even fun to hunt like that?
Of course, over 90% of the comnters were casual viewers, not players.
—This is aweso.
—His movents are insane. Look at his ga sense. Is he dodging on reaction? With reflexes like that, his gear is just a convenience.
Anyone who had ever set foot in a dungeon—anyone with even a sliver of combat experience—recognized Buja’s skill. The video was so perfect it even earned praise on the notoriously toxic player forums, where users loved to tear down top rankers for the smallest mistakes. It quickly went viral. And as the viewership grew, the video’s more peculiar details started to surface.
—Btw, what’s that golden chick on his shoulder the whole ti?
—What? I thought that was just a costic item.
—Huh, you’re right. What is that? Kinda looks like a sparrow.
—DUDE. What if that’s a clue to his Class? Soone get on this, stat!
That one comnt changed everything.
—Anyone else a sucker who’s rewatched this 20 tis? Oh, just ? Cool.
—Did it break 50 million views in 12 hours?
—I will find the answer, even if it’s just out of sheer spite.
It was the perfect hook: a mystery to keep viewers engaged. Combined with his clean, efficient movents and satisfyingly high damage, it was irresistible.
—Yo, Park Sijun is streaming.
—Hard pass.
—Is there any point in watching him now? I’d rather rewatch Buja’s video and try to figure out his Class.
—Seriously, what could it be? It’s not a support class, is it?
Kim Buja knew better than anyone what it took to capture and hold an audience.
“Ms. Jeong,” he said, a glint in his eye. “For the next dungeon, I’ll be using a bow.”
An endless stream of mysteries. An aura of enigma. With his next move decided, Kim Buja headed for the Dungeon Shop.
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