I May Be a Virtual Youtuber, but I Still Go to Work - Chapter 102
Thirty minutes earlier.
As Serena’s powerful performance wrapped up, the chat was flooded with silent cheers.
[Thank you for enjoying! Happy New Year!]
— kkkkkkkkkk
— Kyahhhhhh
— Encore encore encore
— Finally saw someone sing this well since Maru, haha
— Ah, I really love it
— That’s her, right? Haha
— Who’s that?
— Who even?
However, among the audience of over 60,000, there were definitely fans of Serena.
This meant that more and more people would soon learn of her participation.
Although the president said he would handle it, I didn’t want to just pass the buck to him.
So, thinking I should figure out Serena’s thoughts, I grabbed my phone.
The message was sent from my actual Tokcode account, not the secondary account I’d made specifically for illegal duet participation.
[Me: We’re doing our content today]
[Me: A person like Serena is singing Maru’s song and it’s insane]
[Me: Check it out later]
It didn’t take long for a response.
[Serena: I’m already watching it, haha]
[Serena: But did you know?]
However, she suddenly sounded like she was about to drop some serious news.
And then, bam! The straight shot came flying.
[Serena: She’s graduating early next month, haha]
It didn’t show on her face or in her gestures, but…
I was genuinely surprised.
[Me: What?]
[Serena: I’m not talking about me, so why are you surprised?]
[Me: Still, though]
[Me: Every VTuber’s graduation is a heartbreaking event]
[Serena: Hahahaha]
[Serena: That’s so Jia of you]
[Serena: That warm-heartedness is the best, you know]
They say that among those who are dissatisfied with the company, those who don’t say a word have a higher turnover rate than the talkative ones.
That was something the head of HR told me.
So, people who don’t say anything will quit quickly, while those who talk a lot tend to stick around.
Serena barely communicates with the management of Rapitsu.
So she was high-risk for quitting.
I’d thought that it wouldn’t be strange if she quit anytime, but I never expected her to talk about graduation this soon.
[Me: But what’s she going to do after graduation?]
[Serena: No idea? Maybe she’ll try to become an idol?]
[Me: Well, she did say being an idol was her dream]
[Serena: Who knows, though?]
[Serena: She might be a bit too old to start as a trainee]
[Serena: Maybe she’ll just take a break?]
Given how early education is emphasized in this country, it’s understandable.
K-pop idols are debuting younger and younger; I seem to remember reading that the average age for trainees is around fifteen these days.
With Serena looking to be in her early twenties, it’s no surprise she’d feel it was late.
… It’s a heartbreaking story, in a way.
In an age where people live close to a hundred, being in your twenties means you’ve barely begun living your life.
The only relief was that Serena seemed somewhat lighthearted.
[Serena: She finally said she can take a break]
[Serena: She hasn’t really had a moment’s peace since she was in high school]
[Serena: … Hmm]
[Serena: But she does say it’s a bit sad not being able to meet her fans she loves]
[Me: The fans probably feel the same way]
[Serena: I guess so…]
Despite the reluctance to part with her fans, she seemed resolute about her reasons for leaving.
[Serena: But they say that when she leaves, it’ll benefit her juniors and seniors]
[Serena: There’s a wrong stone firmly stuck in the company]
[Serena: But when she tried to remove it, she found out the one who placed it is the company president]
[Serena: Of course, it’s not easy to remove it just like that, since it’s a parachute]
[Serena: So she decided to graduate]
[Serena: Without removing that stone, the group will struggle more, so she wanted to raise some awareness]
She spoke in circles because it was important, but roughly the gist was this:
A parachute got stuck in the parent company (Budis), and it was causing significant disruptions to their activities.
So, with her recent surge in growth, it seemed she planned to leave to warn the company, saying, “If we continue like this, we’ll lose all our artists.”
But after hearing all this, it made me think.
‘Does her father really have some power?’
Unless her family is incredibly good off, it’s hard to imagine having such a strong will to graduate without a fight against the company.
Given Serena’s recent growth and the influx of income, it all fit together.
However, Serena had already made up her mind.
She didn’t seem to worry much about what would happen afterward.
Considering the calculative side she showed during the Wicker Town incident, she couldn’t be wholly naive and optimistic.
From past comments about “if our dad” or “when our dad judged,” I couldn’t help but speculate that her family background might be quite solid.
After that, Serena seemed to ramble on, whether in a grumble or a complaint, listing out things I found difficult to respond to….
[Serena: I suggested what if she leaving makes it harder for her peers and seniors, but she said they’re okay with it]
[Serena: She even said, “If the company collapses, I can just do personal activities”]
[Serena: Honestly, I got confused because the support was so sloppy, whether it’s corporate or personal, haha]
[Serena: Anyway, she told me not to worry too much]
[Serena: And she asked me to pass this message along]
[Serena: “Jia, please stay in Parallel”]
With that final send-off, the message abruptly ended.
[Me: I’m not going anywhere]
I did send a reply, but since Serena disconnected her main account to return to being an anonymous participant, there was no response.
By the time the third participant’s song began, I decided to tell the president about my conversation with Serena.
“Someone who knows Serena came to sing today. She’s graduating early next month.”
It seemed like the president had kept in mind that Serena would either graduate or switch agencies soon.
Perhaps that’s why he immediately asked me this question.
“Since she’s graduating, did you talk her out of it?”
I shrugged.
“Well, a VTuber can disappear at any time. It’s common for them to quit streaming for personal reasons or to pursue their dreams.”
“Rather unexpectedly cool about it…”
“Well, what else can we do? The moment graduation came up, her heart was already gone. I can’t just go to her and ask why she knew the red pill.
The only thing one can do is treat them well while they’re here. Ever heard the saying? ‘Be grateful that your Oshi is alive.’”
“I’ve heard that to the point of boredom.”
Honestly, for someone at the president’s level, they’re quite a long-lasting VTuber.
Three years is usually the limit for many, and after crossing that mark, it’s often seen as a countdown to graduation.
So I’m always grateful.
Even if my schedule got chaotic, at least the president doesn’t quit streaming.
“Well, if she decides to come back as a VTuber, maybe I’ll help her out then. I have zero interest in anyone who’s not a VTuber.”
The president chuckled.
“Very much a you thing to say.”
After that, the atmosphere seemed to settle a bit.
But the chill in the broadcast room grew warm again with the string of singing participants.
Perhaps it was because we split the fun award and skill award, but about half of the people seemed to be there strictly for comedy points.
And they were wild.
From illegal duets featuring grandpas and grandmas to an array of foreigners—Japanese, Indians, Chinese, Americans—all with quirky accents.
I couldn’t help but laugh, they were like comedians.
So when the twenty-fourth participant appeared, both the president and I could hardly contain our excitement as we joined the viewers cheering in the chat.
It was time for the notoriously difficult Maru song, “Finally,” and the clear, crisp voice on the chorus unmistakably belonged to Yura herself.
**[Dreaming of tomorrow, I’ll forget…]**
— Wowwwww
— Wahhh
— Kyahhhhhhh
— Insane, insane, hahaha
— This is definitely Yura!
— Wow, she sings so well, it’s mad
— She’s hitting a home run
— Yura and Maru’s duet is like grandiosity for the heart
If Serena stood out with her aggressive yet smooth duality in her vocal style, Yura was all about that striking approach, seamlessly blending with Maru’s naturally soaring voice to create a spine-chilling mix.
[Thank you!]
— No way, hahaha
— Are you trying to hide it? Hahaha
— Who are you?
— Even the farewell after the song sounds just like Yura 😂
— Just so bright 😂
In the viewer’s skill assessment, determined by their votes, only Serena and Yura stood out remarkably.
Out of the 30,000 of the 60,000 viewers who participated, Serena had 26,249 votes while Yura had 26,441—very close indeed.
Considering those who were supposed to vote but dropped off due to the long broadcast, Yura should have the lead.
Yet Serena had really made quite the strides.
This left me buzzing with anticipation.
Everyone had shown at least one guaranteed killer move before heading out.
… And the last performer was me.
The watching crowd had grown to about 70,000.
Now, all I could do was pray.
I hoped those people would stay tuned to listen to my song.
Please let these folks show up for tomorrow’s content!
The president, seeing me with my lips turned up strangely, hands clasped in prayer, asked.
“… You look really excited.”
“Look at the crowd. How can I not be excited? Just imagine if half of these people come to tomorrow’s members’ singing contest.”
Parallel blowing up, first-gen blowing up.
Let’s go second-gen too.
But the president just looked at me as if he didn’t get it.
“Oh. You’re not excited because of the illegal duet?”
“Surely you haven’t forgotten that my oshi is the president? If I was excited because of the illegal duet, I would have jumped into the karaoke with everyone else much earlier.”
“… That’s true.”
“Anyway, I hope they don’t run away after hearing my song.”
“Since they’ll just imitate my voice, they won’t run off.”
“I’m just planning to sing in my own voice, though?”
“?”
The president’s look was bewildered, but this was my ruse to trick them.
“If I imitated you earlier, I have to sing in my own voice this time. If I just copy you, it’ll be too obvious.”
“Is that so?”
“Always act unpredictably. Chapter 1 of surviving as a villain. Remember that.”
“… What? I think the original was Hooded.”
“Don’t tease me after I’m all done singing.”
“Huh?”
With the president looking like a child who had just found a fun toy, I shot him a serious look.
It was a stern warning.
The moment he started teasing, all the malice I had saved for him would come raining down in a ten-item set.
Perhaps that was why he didn’t goof around anymore.
The twenty-fifth participant exited, and the president grabbed the mic, all pumped up.
“Okay, let’s welcome our final participant! Jia, please quickly introduce your song!”
“Sure! The final participant’s choice is ‘One Other’, the most recent group song from the first generation. We’ve had others sing group songs, but this is the first time for ‘One Other’, right?”
“Correct. Participant, are you ready?”
Using my prepared secondary account as a reference, I nodded to the president, giving him a sign.
As the short intro began, the infectious beat made everyone want to dance.
I swayed to the rhythm, waiting for the members’ melodies to wash over me.
This was a first-gen song.
I was just a passenger hitching a ride in the trunk of their convertible car.
As the first line began, with Dora and Maru stepping on the gas and singing…
I blended seamlessly with a frequency that wouldn’t disrupt their harmony.
**“Addicted to this pull, I’m falling in.”**
**“This love is so real, it’s taking me high.”**
*
Cheon Dohui was bewildered.
It was definitely Majia.
**“Our worlds are endlessly connected.”**
**“Together we shine, like stars in the sky.”**
Her usual lifeless, business-like tone suddenly transformed into a vibrant, jangly voice.
Nobody could possibly recognize that this was Majia.
Many people have different speaking and singing tones, but this felt like a twist on a twist.
— ?
— Oh, what’s this?
— There was someone like this…?
— Wow, this is right in my ears
— Thought the music might be too loud, but I can hear it clearly, wow
As the viewers noted, Majia’s setting for the first-gen song could be heard loud and clear against the background.
Even so, her voice stood out perfectly.
While you couldn’t say she was better than the perfectly polished first-gen members, her pitch and breath control were on point.
You could think of her singing ability as that of a seasoned rookie.
It was so prominent, it was hard to believe the studio audio setup was just that good.
The fact that she didn’t overlap with anyone else was a significant advantage.
I became curious about when this group of five would release an album together.
And this wasn’t just something Cheon Dohui was feeling….
Ding.
By the time the song ended, my phone buzzed furiously.
Not once, but multiple times.
Songwriters, lyricists, and producers.
Most were people involved with creating the original and cover songs of the first generation.
They were all bringing up similar questions.
[PITMAN: Do you know who the last participant is?]
[SiSseureokhee: Is that Jia?]
[UtaU: Momo, inspiration struck, urgencies!]