My Older Rival Tried To Destroy My Streaming Career — But I Caught His Coordinated Attack On Camera

Part 1

I was watching three thousand people coordinate an attack to destroy my career in real time.

I adjusted my headset.

My hands rested heavily on the edge of the desk.

The chat box on my screen was moving so fast it looked like a solid block of grey and white static.

Most streamers would kill for this kind of engagement.

I just wanted it to stop.

The messages were not cheers or emotes.

They were death threats, insults, and coordinated spam meant to break my broadcasting software.

My moderator, Megan, had been banning accounts for three hours straight.

She sent me a private message telling me to just log off and protect my mental health.

I read her words twice.

My chest tightened.

I reached toward the power button on my computer tower.

The metal was cool against my fingertips.

All I had to do was press it, and the nightmare would end.

The screen would go black.

The thousands of toxic viewers sent by Dan would have nothing left to attack.

I closed my eyes.

A deep breath filled my lungs.

I pulled my hand back from the tower.

I was not going to let them win.

My microphone boom arm squeaked slightly as I pulled it closer to my mouth.

I cleared my throat.

The chat seemed to accelerate, sensing my movement.

I stared directly into the lens of my webcam.

My posture straightened.

I leaned into the microphone.

“We are going together,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

The chat paused for a fraction of a second before exploding again.

“it is already done,” I continued, speaking over the digital noise.

I leaned back in my chair.

“I am not leaving.”

My hands gripped the armrests.

“I am not going anywhere.”

I let the silence hang in the room for a moment.

The fan on my computer whirred loudly, struggling to keep up with the processing load.

“Do you know why I am not leaving?” I asked the camera.

I shook my head slowly.

“So that no bitter, washed-up guy can come here and tell me to stop streaming.”

I forced a cold smile.

“Forget about it.”

I picked up my water bottle.

The condensation made the plastic slippery.

I took a slow sip, keeping my eyes locked on the monitor.

“I am not going to stop streaming just for that.”

I set the bottle down with a soft thud.

“I will not give them the satisfaction.”

I knew exactly who was coordinating this attack.

Dan had been broadcasting for a decade.

His audience was older, just like him.

He was thirty-two, clinging to a fading career while attacking anyone new who threatened his spot.

I tapped my fingers against the edge of the desk.

“They are going to fade away before I do.”

I leaned forward again.

“They have ten years on me.”

I let out a harsh laugh.

“When they are gone, or when their power gets cut because they cannot pay their bills, I will still be here.”

I glanced at my secondary monitor.

Megan had sent another frantic message.

She was worried I was poking the bear.

I ignored her warning.

My other point was coming up.

I checked the time in the corner of my screen.

“There it goes,” I muttered.

I pointed a finger at the camera.

“One minute has to pass.”

I shifted the subject deliberately, a tactical pivot to show how little I cared about their harassment.

“Tomorrow, the veteran team from tucuman plays against the team from estero.”

I nodded slowly.

“it is going to be a huge match.”

I smirked.

“Almost certainly ending in a blowout.”

The chat was confused by the sudden change in topic.

The barrage of insults slowed down slightly.

“There it is,” I said, watching the viewer count stabilize.

I crossed my arms.

“Well, this guy is not going to give up.”

I took another deep breath.

“Calm down,” I told myself, though I spoke loud enough for the microphone to pick it up.

“Just calm down.”

I saw a message from a loyal viewer, friend, slip through the noise.

“Thank you, friend,” I said softly.

I looked back at the main chat feed.

“Look, people, I would never normally say these things.”

I shook my head again.

“No, not me.”

I grabbed my mouse.

My cursor hovered over the broadcast software.

“I am leaving now.”

I looked at the camera one last time.

“I will see you tomorrow for another day of…”