Maybe being a VTuber is an incredibly high-level job that just anyone can't do.
Or maybe they come with a curse that guarantees their machines will always break.
"I think I'm gonna quit being a VTuber..."
"Uh, don't block the door—move aside a bit. I'm here to fix it."
"Okay..."
I know my thinking is a bit detached from the common perception.
But I was in a position where I couldn't help but think that way.
Power that won't turn on the next day, even after confirming everything's fine.
Personal DDoS attacks when everyone else's internet works perfectly.
Motion capture systems that work fine when I test them but break only in front of the VTuber.
If this keeps cycling repeatedly for the entire half-year since the 1st Gen debuted, isn't this beyond suspicion—straight-up confirmation?
"There, try it now."
I'd revived the dead sound system and beckoned to Akari Dora, our company's 1st Gen VTuber, who was watching anxiously from behind.
It wasn't really a big issue, honestly.
Sometimes they broadcast while eating, and naturally, they push the keyboard or mouse back on the table.
And right then, they accidentally bumped the power on the audio interface that manages all the sound being streamed.
It's because the power button is on the side.
That's why I told the former team leader not to buy this thing.
High defect rate on the hardware itself, and the button and dial placements were bound to cause problems eventually.
There were already plenty of cases like this across the ocean at Bachew Bachew.
Meanwhile, Dora muttered as she put her motion capture gear back on her head.
"It'll work this time, right? Ha, driving me crazy."
"It will, so go ahead and talk to the viewers right now."
— Finally...
— Churls are rotting waiting
— Mommaaaaa
"Ah, ahh."
The viewers, who had been burning up the chat wondering when she'd return, reacted instantly to Dora's voice.
— You here?
— Finally
— Fixing it just now? Way too late
:: Anonymous donor sent 1,000 Clouds! ::
:: Sis, you know? You can hold your breath for 20 minutes and still live ::
— World's first radiation apocalypse prep stream lol
— This bitch lasted 1 min less, total beast ㅋㅋ
Luckily, the moment Dora realized the sound was back, she started apologizing profusely in that earnest voice.
"Ah, ahhh, sorry, sorry! Ughhh. Sorry for being such an idiot..."
— Still, 20 mins is quick
— Haven't swapped gear yet?
— Dragon repels machines lol
— Should we flame ops first?
"Hey! If I swap gear, it takes forever to readjust, so I just stick with it. And they came all this way to fix it! No flaming ops! Protect ops!"
She was great at streaming.
Knew how to turn the crowd around.
And even went out of her way to defend us staff.
Of course, I'd raced over by taxi in under 20 minutes at 2 a.m., but I couldn't calm the angry viewers during that time.
Can't flame the oshi, so flaming Parallel fans is just daily life now—gotta get used to it.
As the monitoring staff, I had no choice but to gauge the mood, so while Dora streamed, I snuck a peek at the sentiment from behind.
[No matter how I think about it, Dora's gear gets discriminated against]
[Ops are seriously like this]
[How about a fiery hot chicken fanart serving right now?]
[Illusts, what are you doing? Now's your chance]
Same as always, but the firepower wasn't that intense.
Since this happened over and over—not once or twice—the viewers were like, "Aigh, gear issues again? We'll just lie down and hold our breath till the stream resumes."
[Honestly, Dora half-asses her streams lol]
[Dora fans, chill out a bit;]
[TBH Dora fans have been cringy lately]
Some, tired of the gear issues flaring up every time, were now turning their ire on the fans, claiming the Dora fans were the problem.
Gear issues.
Are the fans not at fault?
...Absolutely not, no way.
The problem is entirely with our company for picking the wrong gear.
That's why, for a moment, I suddenly wanted to storm into the former team leader's house—early this year retiree—with this cursed audio interface in hand.
See?
I told you.
If you pick this.
It'll cause problems.
I was venting my rage at the former team leader in my imagination for ignoring me when suddenly Dora shouted.
"Hwaaa! What do I do! Sound's gone again! Even after turning the power off and on like you said, it's not coming back!"
Behind Dora, who was stomping her feet in panic, the keyboard was pushed back again.
In its usual spot were two chewy jellies prepped for today's ASMR mukbang.
Not the audio interface power this time.
It was just this finicky piece of crap having the main volume dial on the side too, right next to the power button.
Good thing I stuck around anticipating this.
If I'd left right away, I'd have gotten a call and turned back in five minutes.
"Got it, so calm down and have some cola."
"No way! Can't be gulping on stream!"
"You've already done plenty of gulping without muting the mic. Clips are already at five—"
"Kyaa! Too mean!"
Not pat-pat-pat, but thwack-thwack-thwack.
Dora's punches—flying from her 171cm frame taller than me—were heavy and hurt.
Yeah, this makes sense.
A punch representing the weight and responsibility of an adult.
* * *
I grabbed a taxi to head home when my phone rang.
My oshi, the third most-subbed Korean VTuber.
With bright beige curly hair, pink eyes, and signature droopy ears—1.6 million subs.
Momo, president of Parallel, the VTuber group I work for.
"Hello."
[Good work today.]
"No problem. Dora's sound should be fine now."
[Sorry. For 2nd Gen, I'll properly train the kids on gear before debut. I'll deliberate carefully when picking equipment too.]
"Back then, with fewer people, we were too swamped to check everything. And you hired me for stuff like this. I clock in later than everyone else, don't do much around the office, so I gotta pull my weight somehow."
Haa.
A short sigh came through the receiver.
[There you go again. You always downplay yourself. Who else handles the kids' issues every time without complaint?]
I pondered deeply.
Someone unfazed by seeing VTubers in real life.
Someone who endures back hugs from VTubers but never stops fanboying.
Someone who can stay on 5-minute standby till late at night despite being company staff—only me.
So yeah, like the president said, I had clear value.
But if I hadn't gotten caught IRL after sniping the president online five years ago when I had nothing going for me, I probably wouldn't be a company man now.
Job satisfaction isn't low; it's just that compared to the others at Parallel, I'm way too lacking.
I'd probably be doing odd jobs, sniping the president like before, scraping by aimlessly.
So now, in this great setup hearing the president's voice daily, watching 1st Gen streams, heading home late, and getting paid for it.
If anything, I should be thankful to her, not the other way around.
...In short, I'm not that great.
Since she's my oshi, I just work hard at whatever she asks—basically, I see myself as a loyal pup.
Her fan name is Mongmong, fittingly, so I self-deprecatingly go "mongmong" whenever she gives me tough tasks.
"Anyway, heading in. You too, President—get some sleep."
[Thanks. Be safe. Don't forget tomorrow's 8 p.m. content subbing for Dora.]
"Got it. All prepped."
Even I, who was practically her personal secretary and could handle anything she threw at me, had to tense up sometimes.
Like tonight's scheduled content.
[Find Rain], hosted by 1st Gen Aoyagi Rain, the US-study-abroad alum.
A planning where you pick out Rain— with her unique accent and shaky Korean—from voice-modulated fakes.
Dora, whom I'd just fixed gear for, had to bail for family reasons, so I got tapped as sub.
I've supported on president streams silently a few times, but voicing myself? First time.
Never even done basic netkama in my life—nerves.
Surrounded by idols, imitating an idol.
'Office life ain't easy...'
But a salaryman trusted by the president has to nail tough tasks.
No reason to back out when she was convinced I'd make it way more fun.
I've watched every single one of Rain's streams without missing a day.
Prepped thoroughly for a week.
If I can just overcome the embarrassment, I'll sacrifice this body for our 1st Gen.
"Hwaaam."
Yawns burst out nonstop arriving home.
Dazed and barely hanging on, I flopped onto the bed, and sleep crashed over me.
As consciousness faded, I muttered softly.
"Streams won't end for a while yet..."
* * *
Next morning.
I headed to the bathroom for a wash but locked eyes with the full-length mirror.
"What the heck is this cute little creature?"
Under the warm morning sun, black straight hair with a blue sheen.
Blue eyes so exotic you'd question if they were Korean.
"Ah, ah. Ah. Ahh! Ahh?"
Sleepy eyes like a laid-back herbivore.
Height shrunk way down, perfectly matching the childish voice.
A girl in the mirror—cute enough to mistake for a child actress—was poking her face in utter bewilderment.
Thoughts raced through my head.
Did someone swap my soul while I slept?
Still dreaming some wild dream?
Then the final thought that hit.
"But how the hell am I supposed to commute like this?"
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