I Have No Confidence I'll Lose

"What?"

"She's... actually doing that?"

The judges' seats stirred. Was she seriously going to sing this?

That was when Luna muttered under her breath.

"The World I Want?"

It was a J-POP track that had been spreading like a fad, one that had even taken home a grand prize in Japan a few months back. There was nothing wrong with the song itself. The judges were simply stunned.

Most of The World I Want sat in a high register at a blistering tempo, the kind of song that wrecked your breath control. Anyone who wasn't at least a serious-level vocalist tended to steer well clear of it.

Picking a song like that meant one of two things.

She was insane? Or she had that much confidence.

Dongsuk didn't even like the song. Even with the accompaniment already rolling, he flipped his mic on.

"Are you actually planning to sing this?"

"Yes. I am."

At my unflinching tone, I could feel the expression behind Dongsuk's avatar go stiff. That this particular judge was not on my side was something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I felt with my entire body.

So what? I had no reason to be scared of him. All I had to do was sing the song I wanted, take the viewers' votes, and advance to the third preliminary. That was it.

"If you want to sing this, why not save the impact for the finals? I even did a collab stream with the original artist to prepare for this project, and they said performing it in the final would leave a lasting impression on a lot of people."

"I'm sure it would. But singing it in the preliminaries doesn't cheapen the song. If anything, won't people start looking at me differently from this moment on?"

Crunch.

The sound of Dongsuk grinding his teeth came through the mic in real time. I couldn't see the viewer reactions right now, but it had to be chaos — a famous Artificial Forest streamer locking horns with a rookie VTuber.

I had no intention of backing down. I turned my gaze to the host and gestured for the accompaniment.

"Ah... then! Kuro's The World I Want! Here we go!"

At the host's cue, I opened the Status Window.

Unlike before, Singing had evolved from B to B+. At my current level I was a cut above an ordinary person, and just a notch below a professional.

Among the VTubers who'd entered today's project were former idols and people who'd once aimed to be singers. Beating those people on raw skill was still a stretch. So was I going to lose here?

As if.

I lit a fire in my eyes and opened my mouth to the accompaniment pouring in. I was going to blow every last one of them away with this song. Just you wait.

Good. I didn't miss the opening note, and the rhythm stuck to the accompaniment like glue, refusing to peel away. All that practice I'd squeezed in between filming shoots was paying off. I smiled.

This is fun. Singing. I couldn't see them, but picturing countless viewers listening and loving it was so exciting I could barely hold it in.

I glanced toward the judges' seats. They were swaying left and right, enjoying the song. I sent Dongsuk a pointed look.

Well? How's my singing? You would've regretted it if I hadn't sung this now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— that was the meaning in my gaze.

"...!"

From the very first phrase, Luna was stunned.

It was good. No — "good" didn't even begin to cover it. If you asked whether it was expert, veteran-level singing? She'd shake her head and say no. But the pronunciation and the voice that sat so comfortably in the ear — that only came from locking in precise rhythm and crystal-clear diction. And it wasn't even Korean. Foreign-language pronunciation this clean? She almost wondered if Kuro was a former news anchor.

Chat had already lost its mind. Trying to reel it back in was a lost cause. Even a veteran streamer couldn't have contained this, so Luna gave up and simply kept listening.

Dum. Dadaaan. Daaah—. Dadaan. Dum.

Luna, who had been tapping her thigh without realizing it, startled and dropped her hand.

I'm losing it... I got so absorbed I fell into the song.

She blinked at her own behavior, wondering how talent like this had only shown up now. At the same time, she pulled up Kuro's information. One recorded file sitting on the profile. Nothing else listed.

That means... she's a complete newbie?

Regardless of Luna's shock, the song pushed past the verse and into the highlight.

Even among professionals, people who could climb into that range were vanishingly rare — and not a single note wavered. Her breathing looked as comfortable as sitting in her own bedroom. At this point, Luna couldn't help but suspect it. Had some famous singer hidden their identity to join the project?

The last high note was perfect. Most covers either gasped for air here or dropped the key. Checking now — no lowered notes, no wobble at all. She was actually singing an octave higher than the original. And still, a clean, beautiful tone.

"Whoa...."

Kuro sang a song that was a pleasure to hear all the way to the end. The accompaniment stopped, and silence settled. Only then did Kuro bow her head in greeting. And then she said, boldly:

"Thank you. That's all I prepared for today."

It felt like a threat — if you want to hear more, vote — and Luna almost voted without thinking. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Most of the viewers had probably already fallen for Kuro's charm.

"Wow... wow! Kuro! Thank you for such a wonderful song. I was so zoned out I didn't even realize it was over!"

"Yes, I could tell. Your mouth was hanging open like that — you almost stuck a finger in it."

Kuro parted her lips slightly and mimed putting a finger inside.

"...Excuse me? Ah, ahaha! You're quite the joker! But where did you learn to sing?!"

"I learned at a vocal academy. Um... about two months? And if you subtract the days I skipped for part-time work or personal reasons, it was more like a month."

"Ha, a month...."

Another judge jumped in and stole the floor.

"A month... if that's true, Kuro, you were practically born ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to make music. 'Talent' isn't even the word... you're a genius."

Praise pouring from a judge who hadn't complimented anyone even once until now shocked everyone. Until now, his evaluations had been nothing but That's nice. Well done. He liked her so much he ignored the host's warning to stop and kept going.

"Kuro. What do you say? If you want, would you consider joining the VTuber idol group I'm currently putting together?"

A truly outrageous offer. If anyone else had made it, people would have told them to stop joking and hurled abuse. But the person making the offer was the so-called President of Newtube — known as Daewang-nim.

Luna was curious. What answer would Kuro give?

At Daewang-nim's offer, chat well and truly exploded. Everyone was waiting for Kuro's mouth to open — and that was when it happened.

"Hold on. This isn't right."

Dongsuk cut in and killed the mood.

I listened quietly. Maybe because I'd cut him off and embarrassed him several times already, he looked desperate, ready to drag me down by any means necessary.

"Only a month of practice and you're at this level...? Just because we can't verify the facts, you're saying whatever you want, aren't you?"

A month was by no means long. If anything, it was short. I'd heard there were former idols and singers among the VTubers in this project. Compared to them? I admitted my level was clearly lower.

So what?

"Do you think people who've practiced a long time automatically sing and dance well, and people who've practiced a short time automatically can't?"

I turned it around and counterattacked with a question of my own. On the outside I was talking shamelessly, but inside I was so tense the hand gripping the mic was slick with sweat.

Ah, crap... did I pick a fight for nothing? I looked this guy up. He's pretty famous.

I worried his fans would start flaming me before I even got started.

"That's not what I mean, but most of the people here practiced for months at minimum — if not longer — for today, and to succeed as VTubers... are you confident you can beat them?"

Confident I can win...

"I'm not...."

"What was that?"

"I'm not...."

Dongsuk didn't catch it the first time and asked again. I said it once more.

Well, of course. I hadn't come here to fight. I'd come here to be a VTuber idol.