Solo Streaming: My only viewer is Yandere Goddess

The morning sun struggled to pierce through the grey clouds over Tokyo. Ren Hanshin sat cross legged on the floor of his ruined living room. The bloodstains from the assassins had dried into dark patches on the hardwood. He hadn’t called a cleaning service. He didn’t want any unawakened civilians walking into the suffocating domain of his penthouse. He breathed in slowly, streaming his A-Rank mana through his damaged vessels.

"System," Ren murmured. "Status."

[Name: Ren Hanshin]

[Level: 50]

[Class: Sovereign’s Executioner (Mythic)]

[HP: 7,500 / 8,200 (Recovering)]

[Mana: 800 / 800]

[Stats]

Strength: 185

Agility: 210

Vitality: 180

Perception: 110

Mana: 800

His internal injuries from channeling the Sovereign’s aura were healing, thanks to his boosted Vitality stat. But Kenjiro’s words still echoed in his mind. ’You fight like a street brawler who suddenly won the lottery.’

The inspector was right. If Ren walked into the Sovereign’s Draft relying on his stats and his Mythic coat, a true master would cut him piece by piece.

The blue screen vanished, replaced by a shining crimson box.

[The God of Fate has been watching you breathe for three hours.]

[God of Fate]: Your vessels are mostly healed. You are so resilient, my love.

[God of Fate]: I have found a teacher for you. It sickens me to let another pair of hands mold you, but I will not allow you to be humiliated in the Draft.

A small holographic map popped up on the screen, a red waypoint blinking on the far western outskirts of the Tokyo prefecture in the Okutama mountains.

[God of Fate]: Go to these coordinates. The dog waiting there will teach you how to move. If he displeases you, just tell me, and I will snap his neck.

Ren stood up, brushing the dust off on his sweatpants. He grabbed a simple black jacket, throwing it over his shoulders.

"Who is he?" Ren asked the hovering omni-view camera.

[God of Fate]: A forgotten relic. Someone who cannot look at you, cannot covet you, and cannot survive without my permission. He is safe.

****

Two hours later.

The bullet train had taken Ren to the edge of the city, and from there, he hiked three miles up a steep, overgrown mountain path. The air here was thin and cold, carrying the scent of needles and damp earth.

At the top of the path sat a ruined, forgotten shinto shrine. The torii gate was rotting, covered in green moss, and the main courtyard was littered with fallen leaves. Sitting on the wooden porch of the main shrine, there was an old man.

He wore ragged, faded grey robes. His hair was stark white and tied back in a messy topknot. But the most striking feature was his face. A jagged scar crawled horizontally across both of his eyes.

Beside the old man rested an unpolished wooden bokken (practice sword). Ren stepped into the courtyard. He didn’t mask his presence, but he walked as quietly as his body allowed. His boots barely crushed the dry leaves.

"Your steps are heavy on the right," the old man rasped, his voice sounding like dry gravel grinding together. "You favor your right leg. An old injury, perhaps? Healed by high tier magic, but the flinch remains. You walk like a man who expects the ground to fall out under him."

Ren froze. The old man hadn’t even turned his head, yet he had deduced the lingering trauma of Ryuichi severing Ren’s leg in the dungeon.

"Are you the teacher?" Ren asked, keeping his distance.

The old man let out a dry, bitter chuckle. He reached out, his calloused fingers wrapping around the wooden practice sword. He stood up slowly, his joints popping.

"I am Jubei," the old man said. "Fifty years ago, they called me the Sword Saint of the War God, but I refused an order to slaughter a village of innocent unawakened. The God of War took my eyes, shattered my mana core, and left me to rot on this mountain."

Jubei turned his scarred, empty eyes toward Ren.

"I was supposed to die," Jubei continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But a different God found me. She wrapped a single red thread around my heart. She kept me alive in this rotting body for five decades, just so I could be used for this moment."

The crimson screen popped up next to Ren.

[The God of Fate is glaring down at the old man.]

[God of Fate]: Tell the dog to stop barking and start working. His voice annoys me.

Ren dismissed the screen. "She sent me to learn footwork and weapon arts. I need to know how to fight people stronger than me."

Jubei sighed, stepping off the porch and into the leafy courtyard. "I cannot teach you how to fight a god, but I can teach you how not to die like a fool. Draw your weapon, boy."

Ren hesitated. "You have no mana core. You’re blind. If I swing at you, I might kill you."

Jubei laughed. It was a genuine smile of amusement. "Boy, you reek of borrowed divine power. You have the scent of a monster, but the posture of a frightened child. Attack me with intent to kill, or go back down the mountain."

Ren narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

Ren raised his right hand. The air dropped in temperature as the Severance of Destiny formed in a flash of crimson light. The massive blood scythe hummed with violence.

"A scythe," Jubei murmured, hearing the hum of the blade cutting the air. "A farmer’s tool, repurposed by the reaper. Awkward center of gravity. Wide swings. Full of openings."

Ren didn’t say anything else. He gripped the long handle with both hands and activated Void Step. He vanished into the shadows, reappearing in the air behind Jubei’s right shoulder. He brought the blunt handle of the scythe down, aiming for the back of Jubei’s knees, holding back the lethal blade.

CLACK!

Ren’s eyes widened.

Jubei had simply shifted his left heel back and raised his wooden bokken behind his own back. The wooden stick caught the metallic handle of the Mythic scythe at the center of its pivot point.

Using Ren’s own massive strength against him, Jubei twisted his wrist. The wooden stick acted as a lever, redirecting the energy. Ren felt his balance shatter. The scythe was yanked downward, pulling Ren forward.

Before Ren could let go of the weapon, Jubei spun around. The old man’s foot lashed out, sweeping Ren’s front leg with precision. Ren slammed face into the dirt of the courtyard.

[The God of Fate is gasping in horror!]

[God of Fate]: HOW DARE HE?! I WILL BURN HIS LUNGS!

"Stop!" Ren shouted, spitting dirt out of his mouth. "Don’t touch him!"

The crimson screen shook violently but stayed quiet. Ren pushed himself up, staring at the old man in shock. "How? My Agility is over 200. I teleported behind you."

"Agility is just a number. It measures how fast your muscles flex," Jubei said calmly, resting the wooden sword on his shoulder. "But your mind is slow. You stared at my right shoulder before you teleported. You balanced your weight to the angle you intended to strike. By the time you activated your shadow trick, I already knew where you would be standing."

Jubei pointed the wooden tip at Ren’s chest. "You rely on the system’s tracking to land your hits. You swing that weapon like a butcher swinging a meat cleaver. In the Sovereign’s Draft, Level 80 Avatars won’t just block that. They will let you miss, step into your guard, and take your head off."

Ren stood up, gripping his scythe. The humiliation burned in his chest, but it was replaced by a cold hunger. This was what he needed. No system cheats. Just combat mastery.

"Again," Ren said.

****

For the next six hours, the courtyard echoed with the sound of a wooden stick thrashing a Mythic weapon. Ren attacked from every angle. He used his monstrous speed, he tried brute force, he even tried to feint. But Jubei’s defense was an iron wall built on fifty years of instinct. The old man didn’t need eyes. He felt the change in the air currents, the tension in Ren’s muscles before a strike, and the movement of dirt under Ren’s boots.

Every time Ren overextended, Jubei’s wooden sword struck a painful pressure point on Ren’s wrists, elbows, or knees, dropping him to the floor. By the time the sun began to set, painting the mountain sky in streaks of orange and purple, Ren was covered in mud and bruises. He was panting, leaning on the handle of his scythe just to stay upright. His health bar had dropped by 2,000 points from blunt trauma, but Jubei wasn’t even sweating.

"Enough," Jubei commanded, lowering his wooden sword. "Your stamina is monstrous, but your mind is exhausted. If we continue, you will only ingrain bad habits."

Ren collapsed onto his back, staring up at the sky. His entire body ached in a way it hadn’t since his porter days. The omni-view camera, which had been floating silently at the edge of the courtyard all day, rushed over Ren’s face. The red light blinked angrily.

[The God of Fate is sobbing.]

[God of Fate]: Look at what he did to you. Look at the bruises on your beautiful skin. I hate it. I hate him.

[God of Fate]: Let me heal you. Please.

"No," Ren whispered to the camera. "The bruises are the lesson."

Jubei walked slowly over to where Ren lay. The old man looked down with his empty eyes.

"You have a dark shadow hanging over you, boy," Jubei said calmly. "I can feel the gaze of your goddess. It is suffocating. It is the aura of a tyrant who wants to put a bird in a golden cage."

Ren just closed his eyes.

"I cannot teach you how to wield a scythe," Jubei continued. "It is not a swordsman’s weapon. But I can teach you the ’Flow’. How to mask your killing intent. How to move without shifting the air. How to strike the thread of a man’s life before he even realizes his heart has stopped beating."

Jubei turned and walked back toward the porch of the ruined shrine. "Return tomorrow at dawn, Ren Hanshin. We will strip away the reliance on your system stats. We will build you into a true executioner."

Ren pushed himself up onto his elbows. The pain was agonizing, but a genuine smile crept across his bruised face.

[System Notice: You have unlocked a Hidden Stat!]

[Combat Proficiency (Unranked) has been added to your status window.]

[Sponsor Affinity remains high, but the Constellation is sulking.]

He was going to endure this hell. He was going to master his own body, because the only way to survive the upcoming war of the gods, and the love of his own patron, was to become a monster that even they couldn’t control. He disappeared for a month from the public eyes, concentrating wholly on his combat proficiency and training with Jubei in mountains.