Maybe being a VTuber isn't a job just anyone can do—maybe it's an incredibly high-difficulty profession?
Or maybe it comes with a curse that guarantees all equipment will break.
“I might just quit being a VTuber….”
“Hey, don’t block the door and move aside. I’m here to fix it.”
“Yes….”
I know it’s a thought somewhat far removed from common perception.
But I was in a position where I couldn’t help but think that way.
The power that won’t turn on the next day even though I’d checked that there was no problem.
A personal DDoS that occurs even though everyone else’s internet works perfectly fine.
A motion capture system that works perfectly when I use it but breaks only in front of the VTuber.
If this keeps happening in rotation for half a year since the Gen 1 debut, and it’s not just once or twice, isn’t that beyond mere suspicion—confirmation?
“It’s fixed. Give it a try.”
I restored the dead sound to its original state and gestured to our company’s Gen 1 member, Akari Dora, who had been watching from behind with an anxious expression.
Truthfully, it wasn’t even a big problem.
Sometimes she streams while eating, and then naturally pushes the keyboard or mouse on the table backward.
At that moment, she just happened to touch the power on the audio interface that manages all sound output for the stream.
That’s because it’s a product with the power button on the side.
That’s why I told the former team lead not to buy this.
The equipment itself has a ridiculously high defect rate, and because of the button and dial placement, I said it would cause problems eventually.
There were more than one or two people across the sea on VachuVachu who’d had similar problems.
Meanwhile, Dora put the motion capture equipment back on her head and muttered.
“It’ll work this time, right? Ha. I’m going crazy.”
“It will, so try talking to the viewers right away.”
— She’s late…
— The Chullings are rotting waiting
— Momaaaaaa
“Ah, aah.”
The viewers who had been burning up the chat window wondering when she’d return immediately reacted to Dora’s voice.
— She back?
— Finally
— Are you kidding me, you fix it NOW?
:: An anonymous donor has donated 1,000 Clouds! ::
:: Noona, did you know? You can live without breathing for 20 minutes ::
— World’s first nuclear apocalypse preparedness stream damn
— This punk lasted one minute less, what a fraud lol
Fortunately, as soon as Dora realized the sound was back, she apologized repeatedly in a tearful voice.
“Ah, aaah. Sorry, I’m sorry! Ehehehe. Sorry for being dumb….”
— Still, 20 minutes is pretty fast
— But they still haven’t changed the equipment?
— She’s a dragon so the machines reject her, you know lol
— Let’s blame management first, shall we?
“Hey. If I switch to different equipment, it’ll take forever to get used to, so I’m just using this one. They even came all the way here to fix it! Don’t blame them! Protect management!”
She really is good at streaming.
She knows how to win people over.
And she even protects our staff on top of that.
Of course, it took less than 20 minutes to rush here by taxi at 2 a.m., but I couldn’t stop the angry viewers during those 20 minutes.
You can’t hit your oshi (fave), so Parallel fans beating on Parallel has become everyday life by now. I have to get used to it.
Since I’m the staff member in charge of monitoring, I couldn’t help but gauge the atmosphere, so I quietly checked public sentiment from behind while Dora was streaming.
[No matter how much I think about it, Dora is totally being discriminated against with equipment]
[Is management really gonna stay like this]
[How about a plate of Buldak fanart while things are burning]
[What are the illustrators doing, now’s the chance]
It seems like business as usual, but the firepower isn’t that intense.
Since this isn’t just once or twice but keeps repeating, the viewers are all like, “Yeah, yeah, fry some pancakes over the equipment issue, we’ll just lie down and hold our breath until the stream resumes.” That kind of vibe.
[Honestly Dora’s streams are half-assed lol]
[Dora-moms, cut it out a bit;]
[Honestly the Dora-moms are pretty toxic these days]
Some who were tired of burning up over the equipment issue every time were now turning their arrows of criticism toward the fanbase, saying the Dora-moms were the problem.
Equipment issue.
Is there no problem with the fans?
…None at all, as if there could be.
The problem lies entirely with our company for choosing the wrong equipment.
Maybe that’s why I suddenly wanted to barge into the former team lead’s house—who quit early this year—clutching this damned audio interface.
I told you.
Didn’t I say so?
If you choose this.
It’ll cause problems.
As I was venting my anger at the former team lead who didn’t listen to me in my imagination, Dora suddenly shouted.
“Haaaah. What do I do! The sound’s gone again! I turned the power off and on like you told me, but it’s still not working!”
Looking behind the head of Dora, who was stomping her feet and panicking, the keyboard had been pushed back again.
In the spot where the keyboard originally was, there were two chewy jellies prepared for today’s ASMR mukbang.
If you’re wondering if the audio interface’s power went down again, that’s not it.
It’s simply because this insane audio interface, not content with having the power button there, also has the main volume control dial on the side.
Good thing I waited because I had a feeling this would happen.
If I’d left right away, I would’ve gotten a call in five minutes and had to turn back.
“I know, so calm down and drink some cola or something.”
“I can’t! I can’t burp during a stream!”
“You’ve already done it several times without turning off the mic. There are already five clips of it——”
“Kyaaak! That’s mean!”
Not thump-thump-thump, but thud-thud-thud.
The punches thrown by Dora, who is taller than me at 171cm, were heavy and painful.
So this is it.
A punch representing the weight and responsibility of a working adult.
* * *
Just as I caught a taxi to go home, a call came in.
My oshi, who has the third most subscribers among Korean VTubers.
A Neotuber with 1.6 million subscribers, represented by light beige hair, pink eyes, wolf ears, and a tail.
It was Momo, the president of Parallel, the VTuber group I currently work for.
“Hello.”
[You worked hard today too.]
“Not at all. Dora’s sound should be fine now.”
[I’m sorry. When it’s time for Gen 2, I’ll make sure to properly train the kids on equipment before their debut. I’ll also be very careful when choosing equipment.]
“Well, back then there were few people, so you were too busy to check all these things. And you brought me into the company to do this kind of work. I come in later than everyone else every day, and I don’t really do much at the company, so I have to work like this at least.”
Sigh.
A short sigh came through the receiver.
[There you go again. You have a tendency to put yourself down too much. How common is someone who silently resolves the issues that keep happening with the kids?]
I fell into deep thought.
Someone who can see a VTuber’s real face and remain unfazed.
Someone who won’t stop being a fan even while suffering under a VTuber’s overwhelming presence.
I was the only one who, despite being company staff, would stay on standby until late at night.
So, as the president said, I was someone with clear value.
If I hadn’t been caught in real life while sniping at the president five years ago when I had nothing going for myself, I probably wouldn’t have become an office worker like this.
It’s not that my job satisfaction is low; it’s just that compared to others working at Parallel, I’m an incredibly lacking person.
I probably would’ve just done part-time work, kept sniping at the president as usual, and lived a rough life.
So, obtaining a position where I can hear the president’s voice every day in a good environment, watch Gen 1 streams, leave work late, and get paid for it—isn’t this something I should be grateful to the president for, rather than being thanked?
…In short, I’m not that great of a person.
Since the president is my oshi, I just work hard at whatever I’m told, so I roughly think of myself as a loyal puppy.
It just so happened that the president, Momo’s fan name is Mongmong, so whenever the president gave me difficult tasks, I’d act self-deprecatingly while going “mong mong.”
“Anyway, I’ll head in. You should sleep too, President.”
[Thank you. Get home safe. Don’t forget you have content at 8 p.m. tomorrow as Dora’s replacement.]
“Yes. I know. I’m all prepared.”
Of course, even though I was close to being the president’s exclusive secretary and had done everything asked of me, there was something I couldn’t help but be nervous about.
The content scheduled for this evening.
Hosted by Gen 1’s Aoyagi Rein, who had studied abroad in America.
It was a project where you had to pick out Rein, who uses a unique accent and awkward Korean, from among voice-modulated fakes.
Dora, whose equipment I had just fixed, had to step away due to family circumstances, so I was designated as her replacement.
I’ve gone to support the president’s stream on mute a few times, but this is the first time I’ll be using my own voice.
I’ve never even done something as common as catfishing before in my life, so I’m nervous.
To think I have to imitate an idol while surrounded by idols.
‘Corporate life isn’t easy….’
But if you’re an office worker trusted by the president, you have to handle difficult tasks smoothly.
Since the president was confident it would be much more fun with me participating, there was no reason to back out.
I never missed a single one of Rein’s streams, after all.
And I prepared thoroughly for a week.
If I can overcome the embarrassment, I shall sacrifice this body for our Gen 1 members.
“Haaaahm.”
Yawns burst out one after another as I arrived home.
Half-asleep, unable to endure, I barely laid my body on the bed, and the demon of sleep crashed over me.
As my consciousness faded, I muttered softly.
“The kids’ streams aren’t ending for a while yet….”
* * *
The next morning.
As I tried to enter the bathroom to wash up, I started a staring contest with the full-body mirror.
“What is this cute creature.”
Black hair with a bluish sheen under the warm morning sunlight.
Eyes of an alien blue that made me wonder if I was really Korean.
“Ah, aah. Ah. Aah! Aah?”
Sleepy-looking eyes like a relaxed herbivore.
My height had shrunk considerably, matching the childlike voice far too well.
A cute girl who could be mistaken for a child actor in the mirror was touching her face with a greatly flustered expression.
Various thoughts flashed through my head.
Did someone swap my soul while I slept?
Am I still having some crazy dream?
Then the last thought that came to mind.
“Wait, if I’m like this, how am I supposed to go to work?”