The Staff Are Busy, So I'll Go

Email sent.

Good, good. Everything's going smoothly.

The more I watch it, the deeper I fall. This editor has completely hijacked my taste.

I'd looked through other people's videos too, and this channel's upload had the highest view count of anything related to me so far. The follower spike probably owed something to this one as well.

I wonder what kind of person they are. Well… not like I'll ever see their face.

Hope they reply soon.

I leaned back in my chair with the easy heart of a fisherman waiting on a bite.

Seventeen-year-old Ju Eunseo stared at the email that had just landed in her inbox, her mouth falling open.

A new message.

Sender: VTuber Cha Jinyoung.

At first she assumed it was a fake. Accounts impersonating famous people were everywhere, after all.

But the email address matched the one posted on the stream's community board.

"Is this actually her?"

I open the mail and read through the contents.

"…Seems legitimate?"

I still couldn't shake the doubt.

"But why?"

I hit play on the video I'd made.

Cha Jinyoung's character face fills the entire screen. Then her eyes roll back, the colors going progressively more unhinged. When the water-drinking audio kicks in, the Cha Jinyoung character thrashes around underwater, begging to be saved.

The title was Psycho VTuber's Gunfire Mad Movie.

This was never a fan edit. It was a scrape job — pure bait.

From the moment the algorithm first shoved her stream at me, I hadn't liked her.

She lectures people like she knows something. That constant air of absolute certainty that she's right. The whole "fair and just" image she cultivates.

Playing clean. Playing righteous.

The day I sit here watching Cha Jinyoung's footage is a weekday at noon — a time when a seventeen-year-old minor is supposed to be in school.

But my uniform and bag were torn up and thrown out a long time ago.

At first I'd tried to go. There had even been a friend who always greeted me with a smile.

I'm only saying this because I'm worried about you.

You were in the wrong, though.

Everyone else says so — why are you the only one getting angry?

I thought they were right. That I was just oversensitive, socially deficient, unable to get along with the other kids.

I believed the friend who'd approached me was giving me sincere advice for my own good.

Then one day I found out.

That the person I'd trusted as my closest friend was telling a very different story. In that version, I was the badly behaved student, and she was the kind soul who befriended even someone like me.

It was true that I'd never managed to make friends at any of the schools I'd attended. Still, nothing like this had ever happened before, and it made my head ache.

I'd finally believed I'd found a real friend. I'd never met a Satan like this.

And Satan wasn't far away.

I tried hard to explain myself, but nobody believed a word I said.

What did I even do?

I went to that devil and begged her to say something — anything.

I'm the only person who'll be your friend. You know that, right?

Fuck. What the hell did I even do…

It's not a crime that my parents believe in Saeoreum-nim.

And Satan and the Angel are real, okay?

There's a Satan wearing a human face standing right in front of me!

Why does everyone keep treating me like the bad one?

Of course, I know now that the world my parents live in is very different from this one. But everyone there is good… sorting out what was right and what was wrong made my head hurt.

In the end, the fourth school I forced myself to attend became my last.

I live apart from my parents now. They keep trying to bring me back, but that place isn't normal.

After I got out, strange adults poured difficult words over me and handed me this tiny room, a secondhand computer someone else used to own, and a few basic living supplies.

A life I could never have imagined back in the place I still miss.

This is my world now. This is everything I have.

Looking at Cha Jinyoung made rage surge up my throat.

She's the same. She only ever says the "right" things in front of people. I know there's a Satan nesting behind that fake mask of hers.

So I made a video that would expose her truth — something I hoped would make Cha Jinyoung uncomfortable when she saw it — and uploaded it.

Editing was hard at first, but once my hands got used to it, it wasn't difficult at all. Fun, even.

I deliberately hunted down the most ridiculous facial expressions. I slapped absurd sound effects over serious moments. I even drew the pretty character getting wrecked myself and dropped those frames in.

"And she called it impressive?"

What a weird woman. This is not the reaction I expected.

She's offering me official editing work?

"I'm not falling for it."

I don't know what she's after, but Satans like you have no hope of reform.

I was about to ignore the email entirely when a better idea flashed through my mind.

If I play this right, I can mess with her even more.

My fingers moved across the keyboard.

Send.

A smile slips out on its own.

"Meet in person…?"

Reading the reply made my head go blank.

Why does everyone these days love talking face-to-face so much? We live in a world where everything gets done from a chair…

This is a problem.

Going outside just to hire one editor is a major expedition. I don't know their face, their name, their gender — nothing.

"Haa… Life never makes anything easy."

It's a fair enough request, though. Online scams are everywhere these days. If I can just prove I'm actually Cha Jinyoung as thoroughly as possible…

That should cover the most important issue. Money is a serious matter, after all.

But the reply that came back was firm.

"…Should I just let this one go?"

Maybe we simply aren't meant to work together. When someone states their position this clearly, forcing the issue would be rude.

The world is full of editors. Wave enough money around and you can find one anytime. Post a job listing and applicants will pour in.

Click.

I hit play on the video again.

"Ah, this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is driving me insane — why is it this good."

I admit it. I've got rose-colored glasses on.

If I let this person go and hire someone else, I knew I'd keep comparing them. Something about this funky, off-kilter sensibility was making me lose my mind in the best way.

"…What if I bundle myself up tight and go?"

Hat, mask, sunglasses, oversized hoodie. Taxi there and back. Handle the business and come straight home.

"I should at least ask about the location."

The reply arrived almost immediately.

The address written there was… huh?

Closer than expected. A thirty- to forty-minute taxi ride, maybe?

So they lived nearby.

"Should I just grit my teeth and go?"

I can do this, right? I can't keep running from everything forever…

"…"

My palms felt clammy. I opened them — soaked with sweat.

"Ugh…"

My side started throbbing again. I hadn't done a single thing, and my heart was already racing. Just imagining opening the door and stepping outside made stress spin my head.

I really can't do this alone…

My parents live far out in the provinces. They'd come if I called, but I'd feel too guilty asking.

Friends… I don't have any.

Broadcast acquaintances? Crasher, maybe?

Hey Crasher, want to go somewhere with me?

Don't cross the line.

I'm not someone who can summon Crasher around on demand.

"Isn't there anyone…"

Then an email flickered through my mind.

Livepia. I had a thoroughly reliable set of colleagues there, didn't I?

Hey, you crazy bitch, get a grip.

"Hah—!"

I hadn't even finished official partner registration yet. I hadn't met any of their conditions, and I was going to ask for a personal favor?

A rookie streamer demanding a major company run her private errands?

"Yeah, no…"

But if just one person came with me, I might be okay. The Livepia people were still strangers, but under the circumstances they were the ones I trusted most.

I wrote the email, deleted it, wrote it again, deleted it again — and eventually finished the whole thing.

"Wow."

What even is this email…

But right now, Livepia, you're all I've got…

I closed my eyes and hit send.

"Director, Cha Jinyoung sent an email."

"Already?!"

That fast? Rookies really are rookies — so much for playing hard to get.

I opened the mail in high spirits. And the more I read, the stranger I felt.

"…What is this?"

A request to send one person because she needs to meet someone but has trouble going out alone.

Did I read that right?

"You should decline," Minseok said, reading over the same email.

"Yeah?"

"This has nothing to do with Cha Jinyoung's circumstances as a streamer. It's way too personal."

Charitably, streamer welfare. Uncharitably — exactly what Minseok said: throwing her weight around. And if you extend this kind of help to one person, equity issues with every other streamer start cropping up.

I was a little disappointed. What was going through Cha Jinyoung's head when she made a request like this?

And yet something snagged on me.

Difficulty going out alone… That bothers me somehow.

"Still — isn't this a chance to actually meet her?"

"Director?"

"I've been curious what kind of person she is."

"You're not seriously going yourself?"

"It's already not a normal request. I'm not putting my subordinates through that."

You could also read this as Cha Jinyoung reaching out first, however awkwardly. At least, that was how I'd decided to take it.

"Minseok, this is an unofficial schedule."

"If something goes wrong, it could blow up badly."

"Then it'd be an incident… which is why it's unofficial. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Okay?"

"Haa…"

Minseok looked like he had a lot left to say, but he didn't try to stop me any further.

I replied asking whether a voice call was possible, and shortly after received a MyCode invite link.

Now that I was actually about to talk to her, I felt a little nervous.

I moved to a quiet private office, connected my laptop and earphones, and clicked the link.

"Hello. This is Yoon Okhee, Head of Streamer Support at Livepia."

"Uh…? Director…? Ah — hello! This is Cha Jinyoung!"

Better than she sounds on stream, even. Her pitch jumped — looks like she's pretty nervous on her end too.

"I've reviewed your email. As a streamer welfare measure, we'll assign one person to accompany you."

"Really… thank you so much. Really."

"When should I come ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠by?"

"Sorry?"

"I asked when I should come."

"Uh… so you're saying… the Director is coming in person?"

"Yes. The other staff are busy with work, so I was the freest."

"Ah — ah… I'm so, so sorry… I never imagined the Director would come herself."

"I do have one condition, though."

"Please, anything!"

"Could I receive a gift later?"

"A gift… what kind…"

I never expected something like this would bring us closer. People really can't see an inch ahead of themselves.

"I haven't decided yet. I'll tell you later."

After a brief silence, Cha Jinyoung answered in a serious voice.

"Please do tell me. Definitely."

"I'm not the type to demand anything bizarre, so don't tense up too much."

"Yes, ma'am. Understood."

"Good. Send over the schedule and I'll work around it. Accompanying you for one day is enough, right?"

"Yes. Even just that would mean so much. Thank you."

"Alright. But if I judge the situation to be strange or dangerous, I'm cutting the schedule immediately."

"Of course."

We exchanged a few brief pleasantries after that and ended the call.

I set down the earphones and leaned back in my chair.

Here's hoping all this effort pays off.