Reflections on the Possibility of a 25-Year-Old PhD Graduate VTuber
"Descartes said, 'I think, therefore I am.' That proves the certainty of existence, but it doesn't define what existence should be made of."
Seol Yuna laid out her philosophical agonies in detail.
"I can't say who exactly, but my original self died, and I'm just a shell that inherited those memories and emotions. It's like a thought experiment—the teleportation paradox."
On the death of her original self: "I believe the essence of self and identity is based on the physical continuity of the body. So in the end, am I just a delusion of the previous owner of this body? That scares me so much."
On the physical continuity of self and identity: "If I compare it to a horror game, it's like the protagonist and the monster trapped in one body. Then... what is that robot? What do you even call it?"
She even wove in a perfect game analogy to aid her explanation.
And after hearing it all, Kang Nari's thoughts boiled down to this:
'No clue lol.'
That's right! For a community college dropout like Kang Nari, Seol Yuna's explanation was way too tough to grasp.
'I, I don't get it... Somethin' happened or whatever...'
This wasn't an issue of intelligence—it was a matter of background knowledge. There was a massive gap between what Seol Yuna and Kang Nari knew.
Things like Descartes' rationalism and dualism, the physical vs. psychological continuity of identity, the teleportation paradox—these philosophical dilemmas aren't common knowledge.
Only philosophy professors, philosophy grads slinging ramen at convenience stores, or someone who's endlessly pondered self and identity while researching neuroscience and information theory would know them.
Kang Nari was just your average person, so the one thing she barely managed to catch from Seol Yuna's intellectual rundown was:
'Did that horror game have stuff like this...? Kinda rings a bell...?'
The masterpiece SF horror survival game Seol Yuna used to analogize her situation. It does tackle all sorts of philosophical dilemmas in-game, so it was a spot-on comparison—but a good analogy doesn't always lead to true understanding.
'So what now? We playin' the horror game or what?'
...That was Kang Nari's current mindset.
Finally wrapping up her long explanation, Seol Yuna said, "So... what should I do now?" Her voice trembled as she sought answers for her future and her very identity.
Kang Nari replied, "Uh, well...?"
Inside, she was panicking: 'WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo...'
The pressure and burden hit her so hard she could barely breathe. Cold sweat poured down Kang Nari's back.
She flashed back to a similar moment in the past.
'Heh heh, Miss Kang Nari? Care to answer this question?'
'Eeeek???'
It was exactly like dozing off in a major class only for the professor to call her name and hit her with a question. The creepiest part was that her major prof even knew her name.
The difference? Back then, she had her "just drop out lol~" escapist mindset. Not anymore.
The moment those sparkling eyes of Seol Yuna's clouded with disappointment—she'd probably want to die for real.
But contrary to Kang Nari's fears, Seol Yuna wasn't asking for some ultimate answer. Those sparkling eyes craved something else.
'Heeeung... Kirene-sama... pat pat please... uwu...'
Empathy and understanding. In simple terms, she just wanted some 'headpats.'
That's all Seol Yuna needed right now. Because there is no answer to that question.
Philosophy isn't math. It's not a rigorous, self-evident logical system that spits out the same answer under the same conditions every time. It's about asserting your opinion amid complex, diverse, emotional, illogical human personalities.
What matters is how you yourself think—and having conviction in the answer you yourself give.
"S-so," Kang Nari wasn't expecting much from her own words, but "why not... just live? Do what you wanna do..."
Sometimes... you find the key to the problem in the most unexpected places.
Like Newton spotting universal gravitation from a random falling apple, Alexander Fleming discovering penicillin from accidental blue mold, or Kekulé figuring out benzene's structure from a dream of a snake eating its tail.
"Do what I want...?"
Seol Yuna felt a strange sensation at Kang Nari's uncertain reply. It was like glimpsing a thread to unravel this unsolvable puzzle.
Kang Nari wracked her sluggish brain to elaborate. "L-like, when I was a kid, I wanted to be an idol, then an actress... went to comp sci thinking developer, but ended up a VTuber anyway?"
"Kirene's this 'vampire from the future' fancy lady, but I'm not like that? Viewers watching my streams think the same..."
"So, like... fake or real, doesn't matter—just do what you love, and something people dig a lot?"
Truth be told, Kang Nari didn't even grasp the depths of Seol Yuna's torment, had no clue who Descartes was or what he did, and barely remembered the horror game she did get.
Her explanation was a total mess—she kept forgetting her own point mid-sentence.
But so what? Even with precise arguments, heaps of theoretical evidence, and apt metaphors—if the other person doesn't get it or accept it, it's meaningless.
A half-baked point, grounded in personal experience instead of theory, with imperfect analogies—the real key is how the listener receives and understands it.
"...Ah."
Seol Yuna reflected on her own agonies.
She'd been applying binary logic to her identity: Am I Seol Yujin or Seol Yuna?
But rethinking it, that didn't matter at all. Not since the two selves fused in excruciating agony.
Their distinction lost all meaning. She already knew she was neither fully.
So if she's something new, neither Seol Yujin nor Seol Yuna... what mattered was what she wanted to become.
She asked herself: 'What do I want to be?'
'What do I want to do?'
'What do I love?'
The answer was so clear, rigorous, self-evident—no long-winded explanation needed.
She threw her arms around Kang Nari. Hugged her tight. Poured every ounce of gratitude into a squeeze.
"...Thank you. Really, really thank you."
Now her tears weren't laced with gloom or sorrow. They brimmed with joy and elation as they streamed down her cheeks.
She clung to her, repeating thanks over and over.
Kang Nari froze for a second, then, moved by the thanks and the tears, hugged her back with both arms.
Held her until the tears of the girl in her embrace finally stopped.
...After that, Kang Nari would replay this moment endlessly.
The embrace's fullness, warmth, softness—it was an ecstasy beyond words.
===
Not long after, Nari-sama and I left the café.
Oh! And in a true miracle of mercy and, Nari-sama-sama-sama gave me her contact and real name.
Of course, with the stern warning not to tell a soul.
I swore to my heart that even if someone held a knife, gun, or nuke to my head demanding it, I'd never break.
Because from today, I'm in a "one-body unity" state with Kang Nari-sama-sama-sama.
W-well, if you ask how a lowly thing like me could unite with the divine Kang Nari-sama-sama-sama... uh, can't really say...
A-anyway, that's how fervently I support her!
Even zipped up to my chin in my puffer jacket, hood flipped on, winter's biting wind stung like knives.
But it couldn't ground my soaring joy.
My light steps tapped the pavement without hesitation—total opposite of when I fled my place like a refugee.
I recalled our café heart-to-heart.
'What do I love?'
Theses, science, knowledge. And, ridiculously enough... VTubers.
I loved new papers, science, knowledge. And... VTubers.
'What do I want to do?'
Graduate, study, research. Sure, dropout middle-schooler who hasn't even taken the CSAT...
But I wanted back in—college, grad school. Study, research again.
'What do I want to be?'
PhD. Ph.D.Philosophiae Doctor. The degree Seol Yujin clawed for through hellish effort.
I'd claim it. Earn it again.
And, maybe, just a slim chance...
'Could I... be a VTuber too?'
"Pft, pfft-haha...!"
What a laughable thought. Convinced I'd become a PhD, but doubting a mere virtual streamer?
"A 25-year-old PhD graduate VTuber..."
No one knows the future, and deep down, this Seol Yuna hitting PhD at 25 feels like a stretch...
But I quietly wished for it anyway.
.
.
.
And shortly after.
"Whew... Sorry, miss. Construction next door wrecked the house."
"...Pardon?"
The house collapsed. My brilliant dreams crumbled with it.