The One-Year Anniversary Broadcast
Streamers from the big agencies are on another level.
When they flip on their broadcast, people flood in. When they speak, the chat explodes. Even if they’re not funny, someone laughs anyway.
If you think that’s just how it is, you’re definitely underestimating this industry.
It was 2026.
After the concentration of mana on Earth grew thicker, human bodies could no longer remain in a single form. Some grew long ears, others sprouted tails, and a few even earned entirely new racial titles.
And the easiest place for those people to earn money was internet streaming.
They received mana donations from viewers, then converted that mana into cash or used it to buy whatever they needed. In this era, mana was money, opportunity, and status itself.
Click.
When I started the stream, only the usual faces came in. That was no surprise. I had no real talent for broadcasting, and I didn’t excel at anything or show off any special skills like the others.
“Guys… I’m seriously thinking about quitting.”
When I rested my chin on my hand, the virtual avatar on screen copied the motion exactly.
A male character in a black hoodie. Clunky facial expressions that screamed “free asset pack.” That was my streaming avatar.
Username: Gorani.
When I first created it, I thought it looked a lot like me. Looking at it now, it was obvious a broke guy had just scraped together whatever free models he could find.
Still, it didn’t matter.
On screen, at least, I was a man.
“No, I’m being serious. After streaming for a whole year, if my average viewer count is still only ten, that means I have zero talent, right?”
I said it like that, but deep down I already knew the truth. It wasn’t that I couldn’t blow up. I simply wasn’t meant to.
When I tried to be funny, it came off cheap. When I tried to be serious, I looked pathetic. The only time people reacted was when I humiliated myself.
That was the moment.
Ding.
A donation alert rang out for the first time in ages. It had been so long that I actually spent five full seconds trying to remember what the sound meant.
Anonymous has donated 50,000 Mana
“Show me one last reaction before you go.”
Fifty thousand. Exactly five hundred thousand won in real cash.
I counted the zeros after the five several times over. It was, without question, the largest donation I had ever received in a full year of streaming.
‘Five hundred thousand won…’
When I rose from my chair, the avatar rose with me.
“Got it. Since this is the last one… I’ll do something special.”
The chat stirred.
I took two steps back from the camera, positioning myself so the full-body avatar showed clearly. Then, slowly, I spread my legs a little wider than shoulder width.
One hand pressed against my lower belly. The palm sank into soft flesh. The other hand reached behind and cupped one cheek of my ass.
My fingers dug in, squeezing the flesh until it formed a perfect, plump shape.
I was used to this kind of reaction. It was part of my streaming concept anyway… and the virtual character was the one performing it on screen.
I kept going, slowly bending my knees, pushing my hips back while leaning my upper body forward. Gravity pulled my chest downward, and pale skin peeked through the collar of my shirt.
Lost in the reaction, I stopped caring about how my clothes looked and continued.
“Haaah……”
I deliberately made my voice tremble as I let out a moan. I had done this often back when I was still a man, so making these sounds felt disturbingly natural.
“My stomach hurts… I really don’t think I can hold it……”
I pressed harder against my lower belly. The soft flesh sank even deeper between my fingers. My other hand gripped my ass and pretended to lift it upward, as if desperately trying to stop something from bursting out.
Unlike my real body, the avatar just looked like a gross guy doing something disgusting. But because the donation was so large, I threw myself into the reaction harder than ever.
“Haa… Huaaah…!”
I forced my breathing into ragged gasps, flushed my face, half-closed my eyes, and let my mouth hang open. Saliva glistened on my slightly visible tongue.
In that exact state, I spoke.
“This is my final reaction. I’m really quitting after this.”
Then—
Beep.
A Windows error tone sounded as the system glitched. The avatar shattered for a split second. The screen flickered.
For three full seconds, my real body was captured on stream in that exact pose.
Three seconds.
But in those three seconds, I stared straight at my own reflection on the monitor.
On internet streams, time means nothing. The live broadcast was automatically recording and generating a video. Viewers could simply watch it again.
Only then did I realize what kind of state I had been in.
Through the avatar it had just been a disgusting male VTuber’s low-effort reaction—neither funny nor cute, just a pathetic display worth fifty thousand mana.
But the instant the real camera caught me, everything changed.
When I saw on the broadcast screen exactly what I had been doing, shame I had never felt before crashed over me all at once.
“Ugh…?”
The baggy t-shirt had been pulled downward by gravity, awkwardly exposing the skin below my collarbone. The oversized clothes I wore to hide my body only made the curves underneath even more obvious.
The moans I had let out with my own mouth just moments ago. The deliberately trembling breaths. The way my hands had pressed on my stomach as if desperately holding something in.
All of it had been a ridiculous gag when hidden behind the male avatar.
The viewers’ reactions weren’t much different from mine. Of course they weren’t.
The low-quality male avatar had vanished, and in its place was—honestly—a very pretty woman striking that exact pose.
“Ugh… Uwaaaaa!”
I slammed my fist into the webcam sitting on top of the monitor.
Crack.
The cheap camera I’d bought at Daiso smashed into the wall and shattered.
The cam was off, but the strange, shameful aftertaste refused to leave my chest.
“I-I’ll end the stream here for today…”
With those final words, Gorani’s one-year anniversary broadcast ended abruptly.
I yanked the blanket over my head and replayed the humiliating scene from the stream.
What the hell had I done?
And why had the avatar suddenly disappeared in the first place?
I knew thinking about it wouldn’t change anything, but if I didn’t force my mind onto that question, worse thoughts would creep in.
“I deleted the VOD… so it should be fine, right?”
I pulled the blanket down just below my eyes and, with a trembling finger, turned on my phone.
Streamer Gallery.
Since streaming was all the rage, the gallery’s activity and influence were enormous. The moment bad public opinion formed there, a streamer’s career and life could be considered over.
Tap tap.
I scrolled rapidly, searching to see if my name had been mentioned at all.
Gorani.
Rani.
Woman.
Real body.
I went past ten pages. There wasn’t a single mention.
“Is… is this a good sign?”
Since there were no signs of anything, maybe people simply couldn’t believe what they’d seen? Yeah, it didn’t make sense. They would definitely think it was a well-made AI deepfake.
If I just continued streaming like normal, maybe everyone would let it slide.
The moment I thought that, an alert popped up on my phone.
> You have received an email on Mana On.
> Unread emails: 1
So it wasn’t going to pass naturally after all.
I had set the stream to all-ages. Maybe someone had reported me?
I swallowed hard and opened my inbox with a grim expression.
Neon Ark Entertainment.
An MCN and entertainment company that specialized in managing mana awakeners and non-human creators. In fact, three of the most famous Korean streamers were signed with them.
But why would a company like that reach out to me?
Pushing aside the strange feeling in my chest, I read the email. It was long and polite, but the core message was simple.
Let’s work together.
“Holy shit.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
It was Neon Ark. A company every streamer had heard of at least once. A place I thought would never contact a nobody like me.
Only one thing bothered me.
It was today’s broadcast.
When I recalled the scene I had tried to forget, a strange feeling washed over me. It felt slightly different from right after the stream had ended.
“Hmm…”
Worried it might be a scam, I reread the message, but there was nothing suspicious. The representative’s official seal was stamped at the bottom.
Strangely, I felt reassured.
The more carefully I examined the email, the more my vision blurred and the words stopped registering.
“It’s a huge company. What’s there to worry about?”
The meeting was scheduled for 10 a.m. tomorrow on the sixth floor of Neon Ark’s headquarters. They said they would explain the details in person. As a small-time streamer, I had no reason to refuse.
I sent a reply saying I would be there tomorrow, then forced myself to sleep.