The moment Dayo ended the stream, he went offline without a second thought.
He leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms, and exhaled slowly. To him, it had just been a way to kill time—something casual, almost careless. He hadn't planned anything beyond that. He had no intention to make it a thing.
He shut down his system, stood up, and walked away.
What he didn't know was that the internet had already caught fire.
Within minutes of the stream ending, clips began spreading. Screen recordings flooded timelines. Short edits. Raw gameplay footage. Side-by-side comparisons. Reaction videos. Comment sections moved faster than anyone could track.
People were stunned.
"What the hell did I just watch?"
"Since when does Dayo play like this?"
"Bro was sliding like he's been grinding for years."
"Did you see that shotgun one-tap? That wasn't luck."
Some reactions were pure excitement. Others were disbelief. A loud group immediately jumped to suspicion.
