Shadows

After ringing up a light humanities book worth browsing, I stepped outside.

Before I knew it, the sun had already sunk quite low.

“It's already this late.”

The shadows draping the alley had stretched long, and the air ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠felt noticeably cooler.

It was about time to wrap up the stream.

“For our final stretch, we'll head back the way we started and take a moment to recap today's broadcast. As for the books I picked up today…”

Gimbal in hand, I walked the alley while launching into talk about the books.

But then…

Something felt off.

As I spoke, the chat was moving at a suspicious pace.

Had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this book really been that viral?

I paused mid-step and checked the chat window.

…What shadow?

I glanced at the screen of my streaming phone.

At the bottom of the frame, stretched across the alley pavement, a long, clear shadow lay cast in sharp relief.

“……”

My shadow, of course.

The viewers had lost their minds over a shadow.

Well, earlier it had been midday, so the shadow had been short.

Shop windows along the street I could manage to avoid; hiding a shadow was another matter.

Not that a shadow could identify me, so I didn't particularly care.

Still, this was the first time I had paid real attention to Jeong Eun-gyeol's silhouette myself, and the figure was genuinely well-proportioned.

I could see exactly why the viewers' dopamine had detonated.

Donations started pouring in without pause.

It was nearly the biggest donation flood in the history of my channel.

If a shadow alone could cause this much chaos, I couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if Jeong Eun-gyeol's face ever came off.

“Everyone. Please calm down.”

At this rate there would be no end.

I needed to rein them in a little.

“How fortunate. The perfect material for today's final lecture was right at my feet.”

“Plato left us this allegory. There are prisoners who have been bound their entire lives inside a cave. They cannot turn around; they live only by watching the shadows cast upon the cave wall. And so the prisoners come to believe those shadows are the whole of the world—the true substance of reality.”

“Now consider your own situation. You are seated before the cave wall that is your monitor. What have you seen so far? The shadow called an avatar. The shadow called a voice. And just now, quite literally, a shadow. Not once have any of you seen the real thing.”

“Exactly. What you saw today was not the real thing. You merely saw one more shadow. And yet look at you. People who, mere minutes ago, were certain I was a wild boar are now certain, from a single shadow, that I am beautiful. The shadow itself never claimed a thing. Boar or beauty—those are nothing but interpretations you attached to the shadow.”

“Precisely. You have not stepped out of the cave. You have merely changed the meaning of the shadow. The fact that you are still staring at the wall has not changed.”

“If I showed you my true form, would that mean you had left the cave? Can we even see ‘the real' in the first place?”

“Kant put it this way. We cannot apprehend an object as it is in itself—as a thing-in-itself. What we see is only a phenomenon reconstructed through our sense organs and the framework of our cognition.”

“Even if I suddenly swung the camera onto my face right now, what you would be looking at would not be my true form. It would be merely another shadow jointly manufactured by your optic nerves and your brain. In other words, the true substance of the human being that is me—the thing-in-itself—is something you can never reach.”

The chat was scrolling as if a riot had broken out.

Well, the viewers already knew they weren't getting my face today, whatever else happened.

Wasn't their anger just a kind of roleplay at this point?

…Right?

“So do not cling to fleeting phenomena… True to my name, I shall remain Unknown—an existence you can never know.”

Uh… hmm.

Somehow the closing monologue had locked into place.

The viewers seemed to sense it too.

“That concludes today's field lesson. Well done, everyone.”

And without a shred of lingering attachment, I hit the end-stream button.

The phone screen went dark, and the alley that had been noisy with TTS fell quiet again.

The moment the broadcast ended, strength drained from my whole body.

“Haa…”

They were invisible people, sure, but talking nonstop in front of a thousand of them had left me completely wrung out.

I wanted to collapse on the spot, but that wouldn't do.

I dragged my exhausted body back to the one-room apartment.

Once home I washed up and collapsed straight onto the bed.

I'd meant to check the stream reactions, but the moment I closed my eyes and opened them again, light was pouring through the window.

“……Morning.”

I'd spent half a day walking and talking; no wonder my body had called a strike.

When I sat up, my calves throbbed with a dull ache.

Running in this state was out of the question.

I opened the Jumma-run group chat.

Not today.

I sent a reply.

The moment I sent it, a flood of worried messages poured in—Aigoo our little one, what happened, why is a young person so low on stamina.

I sent a few polite thanks and collapsed back onto the bed.

After lying there for about an hour, I made my way to the computer.

The goal?

Ego-searching, of course.

Yesterday's stream had done pretty well, after all.

I was curious what people were saying.

I went straight to BCInside.

Into the Virtual Gallery, search “Unknown.”

As expected, the clip of me playing with the cult recruiters yesterday was pretty hot.

And then…

There were quite a few posts about my shadow as well.

I clicked into the most eye-catching shadow-analysis thread.

Having every single move of mine analyzed left a strange feeling, but shaking off the stigma of “wild boar” still felt good.

…Of course, during yesterday's stream I had lectured that a shadow could never serve as evidence of the real thing.

Well, even Kant never denied feelings.

I was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still deep in the ego-search when—

It was Hina.

Even after our collab last time, we'd kept chatting now and then on Discord, and somehow we'd ended up exchanging phone numbers too…

I had this lingering sense that I was steadily getting reeled in by Hina, but…

Thanks to her I was picking up all sorts of VTuber knowledge, so I couldn't really complain.

I tapped the link and found myself mid-question-barrage against the recruiters.

View count already at ninety thousand…

Considering the video had been up less than a day, that was a solid number.

…Turning down Hina's crew offer would be pure idiocy.

Honestly, the weight of my heart had already tipped heavily toward accepting.

So claiming I wasn't curious about the remaining members would have been a lie.