Lee Joon-ho's apartment felt smaller than ever on March 22, 2040—the eviction deadline now just one day away.
The VR headset sat on his desk, its faint glow a lifeline amid the clutter of unpaid bills and ramen wrappers.
StreamSphere notifications blinked on his phone: 820 followers, 48,000 won in tips. Close—agonizingly close—to the 60,000 won he needed for rent.
He rubbed his eyes, the wheelchair's armrest digging into his elbow. Sleep was a distant memory; Razor's rise was all that mattered now.
Joon-ho grabbed the headset and slipped it on, the familiar whirr of the boot-up screen filling his ears.
Sword Realms loaded with a crisp hum. His avatar stood in the outlaw cave, steel sword gleaming, chain vest snug against his chest.
The moment he went live, the viewer count surged: 150, then 200, then 300.
[ "Razor's here!" ]
[ "Vortex is waiting—1,000 followers or bust!" ]
[ "Cut something big today, boss!" ]
Joon-ho's jaw tightened. Vortex's 1v1 challenge hung over him like a blade—hit 1,000 followers, and the loudmouth would face him live.
At 820, he was still short, but the buzz was building. Chat had spread the word, and clips of his outlaw raid were bouncing across StreamSphere, tagged #RazorRising. He'd give them a show worth watching.
He opened the quest log: "Slay the Dire Boar."
Level 10, a hulking beast prowling the forest's edge. His own level was 7, gear decent but not top-tier. Risky, but kendo had taught him to strike above his weight.
He trekked north, boots crunching over fallen leaves as the trees thinned into a rocky clearing.
Crunch. Crunch.
The viewer count hit 450.
[ "This is it—big kill time!" ]
The Dire Boar lumbered into view—twice his height, tusks like spears, bristling with scars. It snorted, pawing the ground, eyes glinting with primal rage.
Snort. Thud.
Joon-ho slid into chudan-no-kamae, blade steady, breath even. The boar charged—a freight train of muscle and fury.
Thud! Thud! THUD!
He activated Quick Step, dodging left as the tusks gouged the dirt where he'd stood.
Swoosh! Swish!
[ "Close call!" ]
[ "He's dancing again!" ]
Joon-ho darted in, slashing its flank—a shallow cut, but enough to bleed. The boar wheeled, roaring, and swung a tusk.
Swoosh! CLANG!
He parried, steel clanging against bone, and countered with a thrust to its shoulder. The beast staggered, but not enough. Its health: 30% down. His own: 85%.
He needed precision, not brute force.
The dance intensified—dodge, strike, retreat. A tusk grazed his arm.
Slash! Rip!
(-10% health).
But he repaid it with a deep cut to its hind leg, slowing it down.
[ "He's carving it up!" ]
[ "Clip this, holy shit!" ]
The viewer count shot up to 600, followers creeping toward 900.
The boar's health dropped to 20%, its movements sloppy. Joon-ho's eyes narrowed. He saw his opening—feinted right, then spun left, blade arcing in a kendo-perfect tsuki thrust.
Slish! Thud!
Straight through the throat. The boar collapsed, dust billowing around it.
[Quest complete.]
Loot: 500 coins, a boar tusk trinket (+5 attack), and a steel longsword—double-edged, balanced like a dream.
The viewer count surged to 750, tips flashing on-screen:
60,000 won.
[ "Razor's a legend!" ]
[ "That was art!" ]
Followers ticked up—950, 975, then 1,002. Chat exploded.
[ "1K! Vortex time!" ]
[ "He did it, holy crap!" ]
Joon-ho exhaled sharply, the rush flooding his veins. One thousand followers. Rent covered. A real shot.
He typed into chat:
"Vortex wants a fight? Tell him Razor's ready."
The response was instant—viewers surged to 900, tips climbing to 70,000 won. Someone posted a link: Vortex's stream, live now.
Joon-ho opened it in his HUD. Kim "Vortex" Min-seok was mid-rant, axes spinning as he hacked through bandits.
[ "Razor hit 1K? Cute. I'll bury him tomorrow, 8 PM, Sword Realms arena. One shot won't save him from me." ]
His 15,000 viewers cheered, but Joon-ho caught the edge in his voice—Vortex wasn't as cocky as he played.
Chat begged him to respond live. He hesitated—he had no mic, no setup—but the steel longsword felt like an extension of his arm.
He typed instead:
"Tomorrow, 8 PM. Bring your best. I'll bring mine."
The viewer count shot past 1,000, followers climbing to 1,100.
[ "It's war!" ]
[ "Razor vs. Vortex, I'm here for it!" ]
He logged out, the headset slipping off. His hands trembled—not from fear, but adrenaline. Seventy thousand won sat in his account—rent paid, with a sliver left over.
He wheeled to his laptop, transferring the funds to his landlord's account. Done.
For the first time in months, he wasn't drowning.
His phone buzzed. Soo-jin:
[ "1,000 followers? You're insane. Call me, Joon-ho, or I'm coming over." ]
He smirked, texting back:
"Watch tomorrow. You'll see."
She'd get it—eight years ago, she'd have been the one challenging him in the dojo. Now, it was Vortex in the arena.
He spent the afternoon prepping—eating real food (a cheap bibimbap bowl, courtesy of tips), stretching his arms to ease the wheelchair strain, and studying Sword Realms's arena mode.
One-on-one, open field, no gimmicks. Skill against skill.
Vortex's axes were fast, flashy; Joon-ho's blade was precise, relentless. He'd fought showoffs before—kendo nationals were full of them. This was no different.
By evening, he went live again—a short stream to test the longsword.
Swoosh! Slash! Thud!
He sliced through wolves and bandits, the blade's reach and weight a revelation.
Chat stayed steady at 800 viewers, followers hitting 1,200.
Tips pushed 80,000 won.
[ "He's warming up for Vortex!" ]
[ "This sword's nasty!" ]
He ended after an hour, typing:
"Resting for tomorrow. See you at 8."
The headset came off, and silence settled. Joon-ho leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
Eight years since the accident, and he'd clawed his way here—one thousand followers, a duel on the horizon, a blade in his hands again.
Vortex thought he was a fluke? Let him try.
The kid who'd won nationals at 16, who'd danced with a shinai like it was alive, wasn't gone.
He'd just been waiting.
Tomorrow, Razor would cut through the storm.