Can I Pull This Off?
When you start to like someone or something, it's only natural to think, "I want to do that too." Of course, whether you actually act on it depends on your personal circumstances.
For example, if you love music, you might want to try playing various instruments. If you're into manga or anime, you could draw some fan art or even write a fanfic. And if you're like me, a fan of streamers, you might join their viewer games—colloquially called "viewer participation"—or pull off a raid or ghosting stunt. You could even go further and start your own stream just to meet your favorite broadcaster. There are all sorts of thoughts and actions like that, and I've had them myself from time to time.
I'd vaguely wonder, If I'd been born a girl, wouldn't I be streaming alongside them, laughing and chatting away? But of course, that wouldn't have happened. If I'd been born a girl, I'd have lived my own life accordingly. Isn't it weird to assume that just because I was born female, my life would be anything like it is now? And even if I started streaming, I wouldn't instantly skyrocket to fame and build connections with them. That's just common sense anyone would acknowledge, even without specific counterexamples.
So those thoughts always stayed at the level of idle fantasy. They inevitably faded whenever the wall of reality loomed. Sure, as a viewer it's somewhat feasible, but how could I build friendships when my Japanese wasn't good enough for free-talking? What talent did I have to succeed as a streamer? Insane looks? Pro-gamer skills? Or maybe some renowned amateur high-rank player? I knew better than anyone that I didn't fit any of those categories. And being a guy only raised the difficulty even higher.
Yet here I was, blankly working on a PPT.
It wasn't some school assignment. This PPT I was making... well, you could call it my resume. Resume? Am I prepping for a job hunt? I thought with a self-deprecating chuckle. But technically, it was job hunting. You're joining a company, after all—what else would you call it? Not your typical office worker gig, sure...
That's right. I was in the middle of preparing a PPT for Vicone's ongoing recruitment audition.
I had no idea what impulse or confidence was driving me. I'd royally botched my six months of streaming, and I'd even sworn to live a proper life from now on—yet here I was, sniffing around broadcasting again. I found myself pathetic and incomprehensible. Even so, my hands didn't stop typing the PPT.
I wasn't experienced at this, and I had no confidence in making it sleek and polished. I just aimed for simple enough not to look tacky or embarrassing. Calling myself foolish and stupid in my head, I kept agonizing over what to write and how.
For competition, shouldn't I highlight my unique strengths? And I needed something to quickly convey who I was. This PPT was one piece of that. Sure, anyone could slap one together—what made it special? But recalling what various corporate VTubers had let slip about audition applicants, I figured it at least left a minimal impression.
They'd probably exaggerated for stream drama, but anyway. After embedding a short self-introduction video, I added various info about myself. Skip the height and weight—they weren't relevant. I needed to pitch something usable for streaming.
First, languages: Korean, English, Chinese, French, and more. Hard to believe even for me, but this wasn't padding with a greeting or two. I could handle chat responses, even if not full free-talk in the local scene. Korean was a given—I could emigrate tomorrow. I also had deep knowledge of Japanese culture, repackaged a bit elegantly from my otaku status...
Then came the choking point. Games. Did I have any I was good at? Not limited to VTubers, but streamers broadly split into two camps: those who play games and those who don't. In Japanese terms, game real streamers. Personally, I thought game streamers were the ones who could keep going steadily without losing momentum.
The biggest perk? Infinite content. As long as the global game industry doesn't collapse, new titles keep coming. Just stream them. Sure, making it fun relies on personality, effort, and charm—but that foundation was huge. No daily agony over "What to do today? What video next?" That alone was a blessing.
Maybe it was a delusion since I'd never been a proper streamer. They had their own worries and stress, no doubt. Anyway, Vicone seemed game-focused—all of them, really. Having zero solid games wouldn't look good.
League's out. At my current skill, I'd bottom out in the lowest tiers. Not League, then. What about games I knew or liked?
EFD... kinda not.Escape From Deathrows, or EFD—a classic hack-and-slash infinite farming game. It had a small but solid playerbase, not mainstream, so listing it felt iffy. Viewers don't get much vicarious thrill from the genre, and skill isn't obvious to noobs anyway.
I listed both anyway. My body might not keep up, but my knowledge hadn't vanished. I added explanations: low tier, but I'd followed every tourney religiously, so solid grasp... Was Diamond in my past life, but hands are like this now... Couldn't write that, so I fudged it.
What else could this creaky body handle? I added that I loved famous turn-based RPGs. Brainy games, anyone could manage...
Then it hit me. FPS...? Not hyper-mobile ones like Valorant, but slower, precise-movement FPS emphasizing reaction? Maybe doable.
I paused the PPT and rushed to install the game. The sluggishly filling bar mirrored my impatience. While waiting, I finished registration. Install done, I launched straight into training mode.
...
"Good morning."
"Good morning, Section Chief!"
A flawless beauty in her late twenties entered the office in impeccable business attire, greeting crisply. Replies echoed from within. She nodded briefly in acknowledgment and strode to her seat without hesitation.
Settling into the rearmost executive spot, she booted her PC, signaling the start of the day's work.
Yagami Reiko. 27, single. Her stunning looks and icy demeanor drew fans across genders, and she managed HR at this company... Vicone.
Section Chief? Pointless title. The company was small-scale; no need for such granular divisions. As one of the founding members, Reiko knew this best. Her duties hadn't changed much before or after the title. Japan loved manuals and standardization, but that required resources small outfits lacked. No point expecting pro-level handling here.
Reiko sighed softly and began her morning routine: checking audition emails—job applications, basically.
Vicone was like an idol agency, in a way. Except for VTubers—streamers with virtual avatars. Reiko saw vast differences from traditional idols, but as "business items," they overlapped plenty. From the outside, both were "idols for normies."
Girls dreaming only of the glamour, ignoring the woes and risks—"I wanna be like that!"—piled up like mountains. Their emails left Reiko incremental stress before heading straight to trash.
What do they think this company is? That summed up her gripes, persisting yesterday, the day before, and today.
Until that email.
"Even so... if I can stay by my big sister's side, Maria isn't afraid of anything... ehehehe..."
Working in this industry, Reiko dutifully watched anime. Partly for her tastes, partly to study trends among anime otaku who overlapped their audience. That brain-meltingly cute voice from her earphones? From one she'd binged for the former reason.
No real plot—just cute girls spouting nonsense to kill time. She trashed it critically, yet watched for the charm, pitying herself.
But why Maria's voice? The moment Reiko wondered, a cough sounded, followed by another voice.
Listening to the self-intro—"Applying to your esteemed company..."—Reiko realized: Voice acting imitation. Shockingly accurate. She'd suspected the actual seiyuu.
She paused the video, reopened it independently, and advanced the PPT.
The melting voice resumed as slides explained the owner: herself. Not praiseworthy formatting, but not eyesore either. Occupational habit—judging layout first—then content.
...Hmm.
Want to meet her.
Reiko's decision was swift.