Chapter 92
Chapter 92
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Beyond the Idol (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [This server has already ended.] Staring at the black-and-white screen announcing the end of the virtual reality broadcast, Mason sat blankly on his bed for a long while.
"......."
He couldn't make sense of what he'd just seen. His mind refused to sort it out properly.
All he did was dazedly unplug the VR connection cable from the back of his neck.
Mason tossed it carelessly into a corner and lay down on the bed.
It was 2 a.m. now. That bizarre broadcast had eaten up several hours without him realizing.
He needed to sleep soon for his dreaded commute tomorrow.
But somehow... the scenes he'd just witnessed lingered in his mind, flickering and refusing to fade.
Mason lay there, blankly replaying the memories for a moment.
=====
- 2 Hours Ago -
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Connecting to (Private Server: Regular Worship).] ⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [VR Access Precautions: All bodily sensations will be temporarily blocked during server connection. Please be careful of falls and use only in safe locations.] Right after connecting to the broadcast, Mason's consciousness smoothly detached from the physical world.
A sensation like drifting through hazy mist lasted a moment, and when he opened his eyes, he was in a completely unfamiliar place.
'Where... is this?'
A small chapel nestled in a lush forest.
Afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the towering leaves.
"......."
As Mason absentmindedly moved, he noticed his translucent form.
Viewer mode in VR, where no physical avatar rendered—colloquially, spirit form.
In this mode, viewers couldn't interact with anything around them; only movement and observation were possible.
'Where's the broadcast host?'
Mason looked around again.
The only thing in sight was an old European-style chapel building amid the verdant trees. Then, faint singing leaked from the slightly ajar door.
-♬♪
'....?'
Mason drifted inside without thinking.
The shaded chapel interior felt quiet and cozy.
Faint incense lingered in the dry air.
Rows of polished wooden pews lined both sides of the nave.
At the end of the aisle stretching inward, atop a raised platform... Mason finally spotted someone.
'That's....'
A lone girl was singing in the empty chapel.
"♬ Deus, in lūce tuā, clēmentiam osténde ♬"
Her clear, pure voice was pleasing even without any flourishes.
Above all, her serene expression—eyes gently closed, lost in the song—was utterly beautiful.
Beneath the sunlight pouring through the windows, her silvery hair shimmered like pure silver, her flawless skin glowed, and her pristine white attire completed the angelic aura.
She seemed like an angel descended from heaven. Mason found himself entranced.
"♫ Pūrífica ánimās nostrās ā peccātō ♫"
The girl continued singing. A slow organ accompaniment from somewhere blended with her crystalline voice. It lacked the catchy hooks of modern pop songs but was soothing in its simplicity.
The unique melody, structure, and Latin lyrics evoked something familiar.
'Is this a hymn?'
All religions had vanished from this era, but their history and forms lingered in memory.
So Mason easily recognized it as a hymn.
That realization made the purpose of this space clear enough.
Many newbie streamers did this. To draw even one more viewer, they'd adopt all sorts of quirky concepts from the start. Setting up a unique world for their broadcast server and role-playing seriously was standard.
But such setups were a double-edged sword. Botch it, and it felt over-the-top, repelling viewers. Most streamers dropped their concepts once they gained experience.
So this was probably just a fresh, earnest effort from a beginner.
That's what he thought at first.
'But something feels a bit....'
"♪ Sānā cor nostrum vulnerātum ♪"
The singing continued. He couldn't understand the Latin lyrics, but the voice itself was delightful.
The girl's solitary beauty harmonized with the chapel's atmosphere, making it feel like quietly appreciating a work of art.
In the reverent melody, Mason, mesmerized, drifted to a nearby pew and sat.
He pondered: What was the most vital talent for a VR streamer? In his view, it was immersing viewers deeply. Leveraging VR's realism to draw them into your charm—that was the skill, the key to fixed viewers.
In that sense, the girl's talent was exceptional.
"♫ Ut glōriam tuam cantēmus in ætérnum ♫"
Just one verse had melted him into the atmosphere.
Everything felt natural, like she'd done this hundreds of times for real. Incredibly polished.
Finishing the hymn, the girl offered a moment of silent prayer.
"........."
She stepped to the lectern with an open scripture and began reciting incomprehensible tales.
Radiance this, mercy that—nonsensical words.
Only then did Mason snap out of his immersion.
'Isn't this... a bit much?'
Even if committed to the concept, it was time to start the real show.
The ultimate goal of all VR broadcasts was revenue. Donations, subs, ads... You had to open viewers' wallets. Everyone knew the rules.
Concepts were means, not ends.
Unique setups drew eyes, but the core was interacting, reacting, playing games or other VR content to earn tips.
Yet the girl droned on with her gibberish.
It sounded like religious doctrine.
In short: Believe in the benevolence a divine being called Radiance bestows on humanity. Emulate it by loving one another. God loves you, so love each other—something like that.
By now, he'd seen it all.
The religious gimmick was fresh, the staging intriguing, but the content was thin.
'Hard to succeed like this.'
But oddly, Mason found himself drawn into the sermon.
For one, she was easy on the eyes.
Pretty girl effect—everything looks good.
She was stunning. Beauty distilled from all the world's purity. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled as she spoke softly, brimming with natural vitality.
Just an avatar, sure—the real person inside could be anyone hideous—but it pulled him in anyway.
A mysterious beauty whispering softly right before him made even nonsense hypnotic.
'And the content's harmless enough.'
Her words were uplifting: "Every one of you is precious," "God loves you." Softening hearts. Delivered by that pretty avatar in that pure voice, the effect doubled.
Like eye-candy ASMR.
'Is this the angle?'
The chapel vibe and her presence relaxed him, lulling him.
Curious, he tried chatting, but even the chat was disabled.
The other hundred-odd viewers in the server sat silently, absorbing her words—meaningless as they were.
Somehow, it grew on him.
Mason tuned in like the rest, and soon the broadcast neared its end. Finally, she closed her eyes for a brief blessing prayer for the faithful.
Then, smiling softly, she said,
"That concludes today's worship. I pray you all have a good night."
With that, she vanished without lingering.
No warning—just pop, ejected from the world. Mason was dumbfounded.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [This server has already ended.] The system message confirmed the experience was over. No donation or chat windows ever appeared. She just said her piece and ended it. Baffling.
Mason mulled over the broadcast blankly.
Utterly incomprehensible. What kind of stream was this? He'd even planned to donate a question for the first time in ages... but the host didn't bother collecting and bailed.
His head spun. Shaking off stray thoughts, he lay back down.
Time to sleep for work tomorrow.
'Oh, right....'
Mason suddenly remembered: He hadn't taken his meds.
His chronic issue—stress-induced insomnia. Overwork and performance pressure gnawed at his nerves. Body exhausted, mind stubbornly awake—miserable nights.
He'd endured this for years.
He started to get up for the pills but flopped back, too lazy. A languid feeling, unlike usual, washed over him.
The girl's clear song seemed to echo in his ears.
His eyelids drooped.
========
The serene chapel vanished, replaced by the familiar church office.
Removing the VR headset, Yoanna, waiting, asked,
"Great job, sis. How was it? The historic first worship?"
I stared blankly into space before murmuring my thoughts on the test.
"Yeah, a bit limited... but way more realistic than I expected."
Virtual reality mass. Not sharing space with actual congregants, so I adapted or skipped rituals like communion or offerings from Christian traditions.
VR could simulate bread and wine, but since they weren't real food, it risked misinterpretation. So we provisionally skipped them.
The VR worship format was thus simplified.
But the immersion? Outstanding.
"So, how'd the faithful react?"
I'd disabled chats and donations to avoid disruptions. Congregants just spectated.
No real-time feedback for me.
Yoanna checked her terminal and replied.
"The suburban priests say everyone was thrilled. Felt like worshiping right before you, lots were moved."
For the test, the church bought about 100 VR headsets for suburban chapels. Willing faithful visited, taking turns.
Good response on the first try—relief.
"Oh, right."
Yoanna added as if remembering.
"Just in case: Our channel caps at 3,000 simultaneous viewers. Once real congregants flood in, we'll need to upgrade the plan."
"Hmm... should be fine for now?"
If virtual worship kept booming, we could buy more headsets, but this was just testing. 3,000 felt distant.
Generous for basic service—I didn't sweat it then.
A week passed.
As I prepared the fourth test on the private VR server...
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Maximum viewer limit for this channel reached. Upgrade Creator Plan?] A translucent notice appeared in my vision's corner.
Simultaneously, a frantic message hit the external chat for staff. Yoanna.
[Sis! Call from suburban chapel! Faithful say not everyone got in yet—some error?!] 'What....?'
I blinked dumbly between the system message and Yoanna's chat.