A New Member

I sipped the coffee Kang Ho-yeon had brewed and snuck a glance at the woman sitting across from me.

Why is she here?

No matter how many times I turned it over, I couldn't find a single reason for her to walk into this office. I'd heard her contract with her MCN had recently run out—but from an MCN's point of view, there was no reason to let someone like her go so easily. If I really stretched for an explanation... maybe she'd been working under some sleazy boss? Something in that neighborhood. Nothing else came to mind.

"So... how did you find your way here?"

Kang Ho-yeon broke the silence first.

The woman set her cup down with a sharp clack, unzipped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the bag she'd brought, and drew out two thin sheets of paper.

JO Entertainment... that's here.

She hadn't come looking for just any agency. She'd come to sign with JO Entertainment. Questions still lingered, but those could be sorted out by talking. Still, I wanted to hear it from her own mouth.

"You're saying you want to... sign with us? You do know this company is an idol entertainment agency, right?"

"Yes, of course I know. I came here to become an idol."

I snuck a peek at the personal file Kang Ho-yeon was reviewing beside me.

"It's fine if you look too. If I pass, we'll be working together, so we should get to know each other. And even if we don't—I still want to be friends with you."

"...Sorry? With me?"

I couldn't understand why, of all people, she wanted to get close to me. JO Entertainment might have been an idol agency, but I wasn't registered as an idol. I was registered as an actress. Outside of a handful of key staff, the fact that I was even preparing to become a virtual idol was classified—and it would stay that way until the drama aired and member recruitment was finished.

"Reading this... it doesn't look like you want to debut as a regular idol."

What was that supposed to mean? Walking into an idol company without wanting to debut as an idol... One possibility flickered through my mind.

"A virtual idol."

"That's right. I didn't come to debut as an idol. I came to debut as a virtual idol."

She looked at me and smiled, just a little.

"Kuro said so herself, didn't she? That she's recruiting members for a virtual idol group, and she'd love everyone's interest."

The promo I'd tossed out in the middle of the project was finally paying off. It was only one person so far—but if more people started showing up wanting to become virtual idols, we'd be one step closer to the goal.

"There's a skill evaluation first. Are you okay with that?"

"Of course. And on the back of those papers you're holding, there's a brief summary of my history as a VTuber."

Kang Ho-yeon flipped the page. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Her VTuber name and a full record of her activities were written there.

About four years of activity, starting on NewTube. The moment her name had started getting around was two years ago—when she'd won Season 1 of the VTuber Music Project...

Wait. The winner back then was definitely...

I checked the other document again. Real name, Lee Yuwol. Age, twenty-three. Occupation, VTuber. And the VTuber name...

Luna?

"Unnie... you're that Luna?"

"Yep, that's right. I'm Luna. Looking forward to working with you."

She spoke as if the thought of failing had never even crossed her mind. Radiating that unshakable confidence, Luna—no, Lee Yuwol—held out her hand.

"Uh... let's start with the evaluation first. Follow me, please."

Kang Ho-yeon couldn't just sign her on the spot, so she led Lee Yuwol toward the recording studio. I trailed after the two of them.

If my hunch was right, Luna would breeze through the evaluation. I knew her singing well. Ever since she'd appeared as a judge on the project, I'd been looping her songs every single day. I didn't have a vocal director's ear, but trusting my B+ stat, I'd judged her singing for myself. Breath control, timing, and the heart she poured into every note—all of it was outstanding. There was no way Kang Ho-yeon would miss that. She'd even picked up on the fact that I'd poured joy into my own singing.

"Alright. Let's begin."

She must have already picked a song. At Kang Ho-yeon's gesture, the instrumental spilled from the speakers.

Then Lee Yuwol opened her mouth—and the room changed.

Whoa... she was insane.

I'd thought her skill was more than enough from watching videos. That had been an understatement. Hearing it live, that husky voice—so different from mine—took over the entire space. If she had a System, her singing grade would have to be at least an A. I sat there and just listened.

About three minutes later, Lee Yuwol ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stepped out of the booth.

"How was it? I gave it everything I had."

"Wow... Unnie, you're actually amazing."

"Yeah?"

Pleased by the compliment, Lee Yuwol broke into a pretty smile. She was taller than me—a good five-seven—and her figure was the kind that had been carefully maintained, curves where they belonged and a waist that knew its place. As for her face... no notes. Instant pass. If I'd met her back when I was a guy, I probably would have asked for her number.

"Next we'll look at dance. Is there a style you're confident in?"

"Dance..."

For the first time, Lee Yuwol's expression cracked.

What? Is she not confident in her dancing?

If that was the worry, she didn't need it. I was enough of a disaster that the dance coach shook her head at me.

"It's okay. I can't dance either."

"You?"

Lee Yuwol looked genuinely shocked, like that was the last thing she'd expected. Why that face? Was it really that surprising I couldn't dance? She'd never even seen me dance. So this reaction was weird.

"Alright. I'll watch first and then decide."

"...Okay."

Lee Yuwol trudged toward the practice room like a pig being led to slaughter.

The practice room was currently occupied by the dance coach and a rookie girl group in the middle of rehearsal. We could have used another room, but apparently they needed the coach's input, so the test was happening here.

"Alright, let's start. I'll clap out the beat. Just follow along."

"Okay... I'll do my best."

The dance coach picked a relatively easy song and started clapping along with the music.

"One— two— one."

"One... twooo... o-one..."

Creak. Creak. Her joints were screaming for mercy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the rookie girl group sitting in front of the mirror, snickering at Lee Yuwol. A hot flash of irritation surged through me. If you can't do it, you learn. Why turn someone into a punchline? I couldn't understand it.

I swallowed the urge to step in and dance beside her, just to pull those mocking eyes off her. This wasn't practice. This was a test. If I jumped in, the whole point of the evaluation would vanish.

"Alright. That's enough."

"Hahh..."

When the song ended, Lee Yuwol stood there catching her breath.

"The dancing is definitely well below standard."

"That... yes, I know. I got dropped from my old agency because my dancing never improved."

"So that's why you became a VTuber."

Lee Yuwol nodded.

"Yes. VTubers dance too, but the focus is more on singing."

"Mm. I'll take that into account for the evaluation. It'll take a few days for the results."

"That's fine. I'll wait as long as it takes."

"Thank you for your time today."

And that was the end of the test. There was supposed to be a personality evaluation too, but at some point it must have already happened—Kang Ho-yeon's clipboard was covered in checkmarks.

"Um... Unnie? What kind of result do you think she'll get?"

"Who knows? We'll have to go through a meeting first. Since this is the first evaluation of its kind, it'll probably run long."

Not an idol evaluation—a virtual one. The first of its kind, created because of me, with zero existing criteria to work from. Starting from a complete blank slate, a long meeting was inevitable.

"Ji-woo, you get ready to sit in on the meeting too."

"Me too?"

"Of course. Sorry to everyone else, but this is a group for you."

A group for me. In one sense, the words made my heart race. In another, they sat incredibly heavy. That didn't mean I could run—not for Kang Ho-yeon, and not for CEO Jo Kyuhyun, who'd trusted me enough to give the green light.

I clenched my fist, just a little.

"Got it. I'll evaluate her as thoroughly as I can."

Come on. Give it everything you've got. Me.

That evening, around five o'clock. The JO Entertainment conference room.

Eight people sat around a long oval table. Starting with the company CEO, then the dance coach, the vocal coach, various evaluators—and me.

"We'll now begin today's meeting."

Kang Ho-yeon stood and worked her laptop. A report bloomed across the projector screen.

Despite the "few days" comment, the meeting had started that same evening. I was a little excited. In my previous life I'd sat through plenty of work meetings, but I'd never once been in one that was actually about me.

"First up: Lee Yuwol, the VTuber commonly known as Luna, appears to be flawless on the vocal side. Still, since our vocal coach is here, let's give it a listen."

Luna's voice poured from the speakers. That slightly husky tone was seriously captivating. Beside me, the vocal coach was nodding with obvious satisfaction.

"It's good. She has a win from the project a while back, and looking at her file, she was a trainee once, so her fundamentals are solid. And if we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠use that husky voice well, we could get some really compelling songs out of her."

Positive reactions all around. The early mood was good. Even if it had been a smaller contest, tearing down a winning vocal performance would have been absurd. I was just hoping we'd sail through like this when the moment arrived.

"Next item."

A click. Then a single word filled the screen.

The slide flipped, and a video started playing. I didn't need to check whose it was. Lee Yuwol's dance footage.

I tensed a little. I'd already seen the dancing—about as bad as mine. Or... wait. She'd trained as a trainee, so she was actually worse than me.

The video stopped. With a grave expression, the dance coach delivered her verdict.

"Well... I'll put her through the wringer myself. Seeing that look on Ji-woo's face, she's worth developing."

A chill ran down my spine at the dance coach's wicked little smile. Put her through the wringer...? I could feel it. She'd just found a new toy, and she was delighted.

CEO Jo Kyuhyun had been sitting in silence this whole time, turning it over. At last, he spoke.

"Everyone seems to be in favor. What do you think, Miss Ji-woo?"

"My... opinion?"

Under the weight of every gaze in the room, I thought it through. Even if I'd won the project, if I didn't keep showing up on stream or putting myself out there, people would forget me in a heartbeat. That was exactly why bringing in someone with a certain level of name recognition made sense. Luna checked that box. And she didn't seem like a bad person, either.

After years of corporate life, I could usually get a read on someone's type after a look at their face and a couple of conversations.

She doesn't seem like a weirdo.

I made my decision.

"I'm in favor."

"Then we'll proceed with the contract."