Let Them Hear Your Voice

The first thing out of my mouth when I opened my eyes was an exclamation.

“...This place is a total disaster.”

As I forced my sleepy eyes open and stood up, the sight of my apartment... was an absolute catastrophe.

For starters, broken shards of glass were scattered all over the floor. Dozens of books I’d only recently put away were collapsed like a fallen tower, and trash was strewn everywhere like bugs crawling through grass—I had no idea where it all even came from.

“*Sigh*...”

Why do I even bother cleaning?

It just gets messy again anyway...

I felt exactly like I did the morning after a heavy night of drinking.

My alcohol tolerance was so low that I could never remember anything the next day. I recalled how my little sister used to scold me, saying, “...Don't you dare ever drink again,” and I hadn't touched a drop since.

Come to think of it, what was the alcohol tolerance of this new body?

Usually, in these body-swap stories, it's a golden rule that you suddenly become a heavyweight drinker, but now that it's actually happened to me, I can't say for sure.

In my original body, just one glass would turn my face beet red, and if I drank a whole bottle... well, I'd never retained a single memory. Most mornings, the sight I woke up to was pretty similar to this. It used to be so bad that the neighbors upstairs and downstairs wouldn't even get mad; they'd ask if I was okay, looking genuinely worried.

Even though I had absolutely no recollection of what happened.

Moments like this made me realize, as much as I hated it, that I really was related to that person.

Well, I can worry about alcohol later. First, let's clean up...

It would be a disaster if I stepped on the broken glass. In my old body, I didn't care if I got cut or bled,

but this body—this body sculpted by a miracle—I didn't want a single scratch on it.

So, I grabbed the broom and dustpan that had been gathering dust in the corner for months and started sweeping.

A vacuum cleaner? Yeah, right. That was a luxury for someone who couldn't even afford underwear.

Who knew the cleaning muscles I developed from being punished for constant tardiness in school would finally come in handy?

How long had it been since I actually moved my own body to clean like this?

It had to be well over three years.

Yeah, let's just forget about that.

Thinking about the past only ruined my mood.

Especially after having a nightmare, dwelling on the past felt a bit dangerous.

So, I silently swept up the broken glass.

If I hadn't thrown that fit, I wouldn't be cleaning like a maid at this hour.

I wouldn't be shaking my tits and ass like some kind of tease while sweeping. Who is this even for?

“...Ugh.”

I felt something flimsy peeling off my chest.

When I reached up, I realized the Band-Aids I'd been sticking on every day had finally lost their stickiness and were peeling off.

My makeshift underwear is giving out...

I considered just going naked inside the house, but...

Maybe it was because I still wasn't used to this body, but it felt like I was committing a crime, so I forced myself to keep clothes on.

I had been sticking Band-Aids over my sensitive, slightly aching... baby milk dispensers.

But now, even those Band-Aids were falling off. And, of course, I didn't have the money to buy more.

But soon, I would be saying goodbye to these flimsy, yet incredibly helpful tit-bands... No, is that too vulgar?

Anyway, I would soon bid farewell to the Band-Aids that had protected my dispensers from the harsh friction of my clothes.

Because I had finally bought underwear.

With the money left over after buying the microphone.

A cute, white, frilly set that was exactly my style.

I felt like pure white or sleek black would suit my face best, so I spent hours agonizing over it before finally making the purchase.

When buying clothes for this body, I couldn't help but feel like I was dressing up my favorite character.

That was why I was so meticulous, even when choosing something as simple as underwear. I mean, underwear is a crucial setting in RPG games, right? It was a similar feeling.

...I had looked at outdoor clothes too, but...

I couldn't bring myself to waste the money I'd received for the microphone on things like that.

If I didn't buy the mic, I wouldn't have the face to see the 'Earth is Boring' guy again.

Besides, why would a shut-in like me need outdoor clothes? If the day ever came for me to buy clothes, it would be after I started making big money from streaming.

So for now, an oversized hoodie and dolphin shorts that made it look like I wasn't wearing pants were more than enough.

The 'no-pants' look was great because it made me look hot and flustered every time I looked in the mirror.

...Though I might need to expand my wardrobe variety eventually.

Yeah.

A short while later, the apartment returned to its usual state—clean, yet shabby due to the peeling wallpaper.

It was the difference between a store with a 'We Are Open' sign amidst rubble, and a place where a human could actually live.

Reminding myself that humans need to clean to live, I checked my phone.

“Oh?”

I finally saw the notification I'd been desperately waiting for: my package had arrived.

“My mic is here!”

I was more nervous now than I had ever been in my life.

A moderate amount of tension boosts efficiency, but excessive anxiety drives a person crazy.

That was exactly my state.

My body wouldn't even move properly because of the intense nerves.

The version of me who had just plugged in the mic, promising to do well this time, was gone. Instead, a coward who wanted to run away right this second sat frozen in the chair.

Pathetic.

I was so pathetic, unable to do anything but make empty resolutions.

“*Sigh*...”

Honestly, I was terrified.

More accurately, I had zero confidence.

What if they refused to listen to me again, even though it was my stream?

Even if they calmed down, what if I couldn't make any money?

Useless anxieties filled my head once more.

Even with this body, does nothing actually change?

My confidence slowly crumbled. Faced with the wall of reality, my initial groundless confidence began to...

*Ping.*

Just as I was losing hope, a Discord notification chimed.

I immediately checked the message.

Talk about uncanny timing.

Did he know I was streaming today, or was it just a coincidence?

The timing was so perfect it gave me goosebumps.

But,

his simple words of encouragement were enough to melt away my tension.

Gaining courage from that...

I immediately started the stream.

10, 20, 50... and soon, the viewer count climbed toward 200 as people flooded in.

I still had no idea why they were gathering.

Out of habit, I pulled up Notepad on the stream screen.

I typed out, 'I'm using a mic today,' for everyone to see. But as if no one cared about the screen, the chat was flooded with the word 'mic' and spam about that 'amazing' meme.

“*Sigh*...”

It's a shitshow again... AGAIN!!!!

Why does this only happen to me? Seriously, why?!

Just because of my nickname, my stream is turning into an internet forum! Argh!!!!!!

Just watch the game and spam reactions like 'Wow,' 'Damn,' or 'Holy shit!'

If you're going to say weird stuff, don't do it in chat. Do it through donations... Give me money. Money.

...I have to go on with the stream.

I switched on the microphone I had plugged in earlier.

But the words wouldn't come out.

Would these trolls actually calm down just because they heard my voice?

Or would my voice just make things worse?

Torn by these ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worries, I couldn't speak. But...

If I did nothing again, I would be no different from before my body changed.

It would be no different from abandoning myself again.

It would be the same as having that nightmare and not even wanting to change.

Therefore,

I decided to take a step forward and be brave.

The first step of courage to build a mind worthy of this miraculously sculpted body.

“Uh, can you hear me?”

The state of the chat still couldn't be called good,

but at least some people were starting to show genuine interest in me.

I couldn't let this opportunity slip... No, I absolutely refused to let it go.

“I told you I was a girl. Did you not believe me?”

Even to my own ears, it was a clear, beautiful tone. A voice that would make any man recall his first love and any woman green with envy.

With that voice, I administered a soothing sedative to the chat that had been spamming harsh words just moments ago.

“Today... uh, I'm going to stream *League of Pantheons* like usual. ...I don't want you guys just fooling around like last time... Please focus on my stream.”

It was the voice of a fragile girl. At the same time, it sounded like a child making a wish.

Just like someone in chat said, it almost sounded like the gentle words of the Holy Mother.

And so, the chat responded.

In an instant, the stream was flooded with people actually paying attention.

Even though the chat was still a bit chaotic.

Riding the momentum of the stream's atmosphere, I smoothly launched the game and queued up.

Having played it for eight years, there was no hesitation.

Just then, the very first donation of my streaming career came in.

The donation was asking why I insisted on only playing female characters.

A reason... Well, it wasn't really a big deal.

But since they gave me a generous ten thousand won, I couldn't just ignore it.

I answered the question in a calm, relaxed voice.

“Because all the female characters in this game are virgins? Other than that, there's no real reason.”

...Of course I have to.

I'm not called the Virgin Appraiser for nothing.