What Am I Even Saying
Do you know the concept of a parallel universe?
Put simply, it's the hypothesis that a universe where you took the left-hand path and a universe where you took the right-hand path split apart into two separate worlds. A theory that says worldlines branch out to infinity on the back of every trivial choice and every accident.
Why am I suddenly talking about this?
…Honestly, I'd more or less figured it out already. The world that housed this body of Jeong Eun-gyeol and the world where I had lived as a man felt just slightly… off from each other.
The name of the top market-cap conglomerate in the country was oddly different, yet the chairman was still the man I knew.
A famous celebrity I remembered as a singer was working as a film actor instead.
Melodies and titles of songs I knew by heart were a little different—or, in some cases, the songs simply didn't exist at all.
And the reverse was also true: famous companies, celebrities, and hit songs I'd never heard of were everywhere.
Come to think of it, even in the Ethics and Thought textbook I'd opened on stream, certain years had been just a little different from what I remembered.
Any one of those things I could have waved off as a trick of my own memory.
But when the mismatches pile up past a handful, the story changes.
I'd suspected as much from the moment I realized that the original "me" and my family didn't exist in this world—but I'd forced myself not to look at it. I was afraid that the second I fully accepted the fact, I'd have to face being a genuine cosmic orphan.
But by now I'd grown fairly used to this unfamiliar body of Jeong Eun-gyeol…
And more than anything, hunting for a song to sing for the collab penalty—if I lost—of performing one full track had made it impossible to deny reality any longer.
"A shame. A real shame."
Every time I realized a song I was looking for didn't exist in this world, a small melancholy settled over me.
Still, most of my favorite tracks were still around, so I supposed I should count myself lucky.
After digging through Tube, I settled on a few candidates and stood up from my seat.
"Well then—shall we go test just how premium Eun-gyeol's vocal cords really are?"
The tone of her voice when she hummed to herself wasn't bad, but singing wasn't a field decided by tone alone.
"At least this world still has coin karaoke. That's a relief."
Only the small things had changed.
From a cosmic point of view, the differences I'd noticed were surely trivial ones.
Star Coin Karaoke.
Behind the counter, the part-timer Seung-ho was staring into his smartphone through a long, lazy yawn.
It was still morning, so student customers were scarce; the place was empty enough for flies to circle.
Be-ro-ri-ro-ri—
An electronic chime announced that the door had opened, and someone stepped into the shop.
"Welcome—"
The greeting died halfway out of Seung-ho's mouth.
Whoa. Holy crap. Is that a celebrity?
A black ball cap pulled low, a gray zip-up hoodie thrown on without much care.
Even that sloppy outfit couldn't hide the overwhelming physical presence of the woman underneath it. Cool, catlike eyes showing under the brim of the cap, skin so pale it almost glowed—she was an absolute stunner.
She didn't so much as glance toward the counter, heading straight for an empty booth.
He watched her swipe a card and load coins into Room 3.
What's a woman like that doing alone at a coin karaoke?
He wondered what she'd sing.
Was she any good?
Or was she tone-deaf?
Seung-ho pricked up his ears with quiet anticipation.
With no other customers in the place, he'd hear her plenty well.
A moment later.
The intro that cut through the soundproofing from Room 3 made Seung-ho doubt his own ears.
Huh…?
Definitely not an idol track.
This was…
Something closer to trot, maybe…
I've heard this before. Wait—this is one of Dad's favorites…!
A hit that had ruled the nineties poured out of the booth.
"Whoa."
The song choice did not match her looks in the slightest.
But…
She's ridiculously good.
It wasn't that she piled on the ornamentation. Every single pitch was accurate enough to raise goosebumps.
And the feeling in her voice…
Did something actually happen to her? Is that why she came?
It was a voice that sounded like it was carrying some long, tangled story.
After that she sang the occasional recent song (if you could call a track from ten years ago "recent"), but most of what she chose was old-school by any measure.
The strange part was that every single song was a man's song…
Guess the high notes don't come easy for her.
Thinking about it, her range did seem a little on the low side.
Wow.
Jeong Eun-gyeol's vocal cords… were insane.
Singing, I couldn't help but marvel.
The mid-to-low register in particular was absurdly magnetic.
Being a woman, her range sat fundamentally higher than a man's, so songs I could never have touched as a guy rolled out of me with ease.
"Hmm… Then how about a woman's song?"
Should I try one of those tracks famous for their female high notes?
I found the number on the remote…
Even the early bars sat fairly high, and they came up without a struggle.
Then the climax.
I drew one breath, and let it fly.
"♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ !"
Whoa!
It just kept climbing!
Where a frame this slender found the lung capacity, I had no idea—I punched clean through the high section in full voice.
And even up there the tone stayed husky… a truly unusual color of voice.
"This time, let's try some rock."
I knew every lyric, but as a man my cords had never been able to keep up.
A world-famous rock band's song that opens with a confession to your mother that you've killed someone.
"♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ~"
The high notes were one thing, but Jeong Eun-gyeol's tone itself was almost broken—unfair.
Pitch never wavered, and the breath never ran short.
I had the kind of wretched stamina that couldn't run five hundred meters, but lung capacity alone seemed to be a gift.
"Whew."
I'd belted hard enough that I was sweating a little.
I set the mic down.
At this level, I didn't need to worry about the penalty.
No—if anything, drawing the penalty wouldn't be so bad either.
In a thoroughly satisfied mood, I left the room.
"Um, e-excuse me… are you a singer, by any chance?"
"No. Just unemployed."
I answered the blank-faced part-timer like that and walked out of the karaoke.
Back home I showered, idled a little, and time slipped by before I knew it.
I sat down in front of the computer.
8:50 p.m.
As always, I launched the broadcast software and the VTuber studio.
Ziiing—
The webcam light came on, and the familiar cat-eared avatar appeared on the monitor.
I'd grown fairly used by now even to this look people so often called a "flat board."
The viewers, too, seemed to have adapted to the avatar's crooked smirk. Unbalanced but charming, the comments said—and that kind of reaction had been growing.
I typed out a stream title as casually as usual.
The one difference was…
Philosophy Tribunal: The Calm Before the Storm (Includes Announcement)
Today was the day I would announce the collab with Hina.
The moment I hit Go Live, the waiting viewers poured in all at once.
…Stepping on a land mine the second we start.
I brought the squeaky hammer down lightly on the desk.
Beep—!
"Inappropriate chat is subject to punishment."
With that, I issued a one-hour chat ban.
"One-hour chat ban issued. However, should there be further inappropriate conduct…"
I let the sentence trail off and tapped the squeaky hammer with little tok-tok sounds.
"In any case, today's announcement also includes a clarification regarding the 'personal private message' you all so thoroughly misunderstood last time."
"Ahem. This Friday at 8 p.m., those of you enrolled in this Unknown's channel…"
Wait—how many today?
I flicked a glance at the viewer count. Already past two hundred.
A bit high for today.
"…the two hundred philosophy warriors present here will set out on an expedition into a vast empire swarming with ten thousand souls."
"On Friday, I've agreed to appear as a collab guest on Hina's stream. Let's see—Friday makes that two days from now. For the record, the 'private message' was the collab discussion DM with Hina."
Question marks erupted upward like a fireworks finale.
…As expected. Now they were finally putting the puzzle together.
"The collab content is an Ideal Type World Cup, and a debate segment called Angel VS Demon that Hina and I will play with a penalty on the line."
"If I win, Hina does aegyo. But if I lose… I will not be doing anything of the sort."
"In the first place, you people are supposed to be rooting for me. Are you not my viewers? Why are you hoping for my defeat?"
"My penalty has been agreed upon as performing one full song. Aegyo is something I will not do even if my very self rots and falls apart."
The mood of the chat began to flip.
This was starting to feel a little like betrayal.
Weren't these people here because they liked my nonsense?
In that case they ought to be rooting for me…
"Excuse me—what is with all the people already applying for asylum in the enemy nation? Betrayal this easily?"
These little…
But I wasn't genuinely angry.
It was more like watching a child pick on a girl he likes.
Looked at another way, it was almost cu—
What am I even saying.