Living Under the Same Roof: Editor and Streamer (3)
I'd had one habit drilled into me since I was young, back when I was training to go pro.
Wake up at dawn every day for a workout, knock out my scheduled tasks early, and minimize all-nighters as much as possible.
"Baekhyun, the difference between pros and amateurs starts with the smallest habits."
"Those tiny habits can pile up like poison and eventually break you, but they can also make you stronger."
The Blue Dragons coach used to hammer it into us trainees that unshakable mental fortitude and stamina were essential for an esports player, so a solid routine was non-negotiable.
That old habit still stuck with me, turning me into the kind of lunatic who could hit the gym at dawn, work a full day at the office, then edit videos or collab-stream until sunrise.
"The first cover song was a Vocaloid track in Japanese… Why did you specifically ask me to sing that one?"
"It's a song I listen to a lot."
I gave Yujacha a vague answer when she voiced her confusion.
It was the song I'd listened to on the way home after standing on the Han River Bridge in middle school, ready to jump, only to turn back.
[I ran away because I was scared of tomorrow coming.]
A song about feeling powerless when life's harsh storms crash down on you, yet still struggling to keep going.
The first time I heard it, it felt like it mirrored my own situation so perfectly that all I could do was cry silently on the bus.
Yujacha's advice had given me the strength to keep living, and now her singing had saved me once more.
"That song's so old… I'll have to look up the lyrics. I might mess up or sing it badly. Is that okay?"
"It doesn't matter. I already have it in my work playlist anyway."
Honestly, I preferred it when she sounded a little clumsy.
The most awkward, most hesitant song Yujacha had ever sung was the one that felt the most sincere.
It was like she was telling me it was fine to make mistakes, fine to fall, as long as I didn't give up.
That must have been the moment.
The moment the streamer Yujacha became my first love.
When I mentioned the title We Are Hated by Life, the chat's reaction was surprisingly positive.
It was the oldest cover Yujacha had ever done, so you had to sort her YouTube videos by oldest first just to find it.
I still listen to it when I work out, even now, through those cheap Bluetooth earphones I've been using for years.
The frequent pitch slips and off-key moments made it feel like an older sister was singing just to comfort me.
"Everyone has a first time, right? It's okay to mess up or not be good at something yet. Honestly, I liked it even more because you were giving it your all."
"That didn't sound like a compliment."
When I said that, Yujacha's virtual avatar puffed out her cheeks in a slight pout.
Modern VTubers had tracking good enough for little expressions like that.
"It is a compliment. My voice is low, so I can't hit high notes well. I practiced Sparrow at karaoke, but I still couldn't match the original singer."
I tried to lighten the mood by sharing my own experience.
I'd thought that if I worked as hard as Yujacha, I'd be able to sing well too, but unfortunately my vocal range just wouldn't go any higher.
"Ahem, then next time Baekseolgi-nim can sing Sparrow with me in a karaoke collab! It wouldn't be fair if I was the only one singing, right, everyone?"
Yujacha, having found my weakness, steered the conversation with the smooth skill of someone who'd been streaming for ten years.
Even though I was just an editor, receiving this kind of special treatment could make the regular viewers uncomfortable.
Even if she'd been streaming for ten years and was turning thirty this year (twenty-eight in Korean age), we still had to prevent her from graduating as a VTuber.
"Understood. My high notes really are terrible, but… I'll do my best so the viewers are satisfied."
I accepted the deal with a slightly complicated smile. Not being able to sing well wasn't likely to ruin the stream.
If anything, it might turn into a funny in-joke and create the rare sight of video donations rolling in during her broadcast.
* * *
After a short strategy break, Yujacha and I resumed playing Cheoyong - Man'oegyeong.
"So you've returned. No matter how many times you die and come back, the fact that you're a fake never changes."
Maybe the protagonist was set up to keep dying and reviving.
The real Cheoyong spoke as if he'd broken the fourth wall, then raised his sword again to cut down Yujacha, who was playing his wife.
"Yujacha-nim, don't be nervous. Just handle it the way we talked about earlier."
"Y-yes…!"
I kept a close eye on the approaching real Cheoyong while timing my move to help her.
"Now!"
Clang—!
Just before the real Cheoyong's blade reached the neck of Yujacha's character, I managed to knock it away with my own sword.
I knew it.
"W-wow…! I did it! I actually parried!"
"Don't panic. Just block three more times. If he's copying the patterns I used earlier, you can do it."
Yujacha let out an excited cry. I calmed her down and prepared for the next attack.
It was from a conversation I'd had with Yujacha earlier.
I'd revealed my weakness on stream to help her deal with the real Cheoyong.
"I always play cautiously at first to gauge the opponent's skill."
The pro scene was vast and brutal, so if you met someone you couldn't beat in a direct fight, you had to avoid fighting altogether.
But back then, because my family wasn't well-off, I'd been obsessed with becoming the best player possible, which led to an overly aggressive playstyle.
"It was a case of fixing one flaw and creating another bad habit."
In trying to correct that weakness, I'd developed the opposite habit of holding back at the start instead of going all out.
"One, two, three. Now."
Clang, clang, clang—!
The sound of blades slicing through the air and sharp metallic clashes rang out as Yujacha blocked the real Cheoyong's attacks.
Every attack the enemy showed was the exact pattern I'd used earlier when fighting the clones.
Games that required rhythm like this were hard to get used to at first, but once you did, everything became easier.
"Got it!"
The real Cheoyong's stance finally broke. The moment an opening appeared, I took over the fight.
"This damned woman…! How dare you swing your sword at your real husband without even recognizing the fake?!"
The real Cheoyong spat out that line, apparently shocked by Yujacha's growth after she'd been relying on my help the whole time.
"Whether someone's real or fake never mattered in the first place, did it? People just believe what they want to believe."
I answered the real Cheoyong's line with the conclusion I'd reached after all my own struggles and began trading blows with him.
An opponent who had the exact same habits and playstyle as me. It felt strangely like fighting my past self as the real Cheoyong tried to overwhelm me with his natural physical talent.
But in the end, everything came down to condition and form on the day.
That was why I'd always practiced solo-carry heroes like Red Turbo.
Even if the team lost, I could tell myself that if I'd just played better, if I'd had more talent, we could've won.
Yeah. It was a thorough self-defense mechanism.
I'd been avoiding facing my problems head-on, letting greed twist my thinking.
"Yujacha-nim, I'd like a cheering song, please."
"It's a little embarrassing, but… I'll try!"
Everything had changed since I met her.
Even while grinding through exhausting part-time jobs, streaming as a hobby had given me the strength to keep going, and the belief that a happy tomorrow would eventually come.
The time I hurt my ligament carrying sacks at a construction site had actually been a blessing in disguise, because it meant I didn't have to go to the military and got to meet Yujacha sooner.
"—♬ I didn't want to live through another tomorrow, so I ran away because I was scared of tomorrow coming."
The moment Yujacha started singing, I muted my mic and the game audio so I could focus entirely on her voice.
I'd listened to this song countless times before, but this time she was singing it for me.
I felt confident I could beat even a pro gamer from Grand Arts Heroes.
"In a place with no water, unable to breathe, I was ready to give up on life."
The lyrics started on a very negative note. The original composer, Kenzaki Iori, was a Vocaloid producer who often dealt with heavy themes like life and death, growth, and past trauma.
Many of his songs offered comfort to people who'd been through tragic events.
Yujacha sang the song I'd requested in a trembling voice, and listening to her, I parried attacks with the calmest mind I'd ever had on stream.
The pressure of hundreds of viewers watching disappeared, and it felt like I was just lying in bed at home, completely absorbed in the song.
"How many times do I have to attack before your head comes off, you damned bastard…! Die! Just die already…!!"
From start to finish, I completely overwhelmed the real Cheoyong—the "me" who had shown such impressive physical skill throughout this game.
Realizing he couldn't beat me with normal methods, the enemy suddenly grew four arms and started swinging his swords wildly.
"But you told me, 'It's okay to live.'"
My attention was entirely on Yujacha. I didn't care if the horror game's enemy transformed or entered phase two.
"This is impossible! How are you just standing there!! I made a deal with the underworld to become a monster just to kill you, the fake…!!"
I just wanted to finish this guy off quickly so I could clap and praise her for singing so well.
As Yujacha's longtime fan, I'd always wanted to see her stand on a bigger stage and receive the love she deserved.
"Now tomorrow can come. Because you're here with me to live this life together—♪"
Yujacha's song ended, and after I'd blocked every attack the real Cheoyong threw, a cutscene began to play.
"…This feels a bit unfair."
The protagonist, who hadn't lost a single point of health until just moments ago, was now lying on the ground bleeding after being struck by the real Cheoyong's blade.
* * *
The chat exploded at the sudden twist. Thanks to reaching the ending, the viewer count had hit 513.
It seemed the developers had created the cutscene assuming players couldn't defeat the final boss.
"Kuhahaha!! Yeah, no matter how much you struggle, you're still just a fake! You can never beat the real me!"
The real Cheoyong laughed mockingly at the protagonist.
"Blood drips from the blade embedded in his body. His breathing grows ragged, and sharp pain slows his movements."
"His face is horribly twisted, his body covered in blood."
Sad music played alongside the negative narration. Even knowing the protagonist was fake, Cheoyong's wife held onto him.
"Thus the fake tried harder than anyone to become real, yet the monster who looked exactly like me only mocked that struggle."
"So who here is truly the fake, and who is real?"
"Obviously Baekseolgi-nim is the real one! Even if that guy is the real Cheoyong, someone who abandoned everything to a mirror and ran away can't call himself the real deal."
Yujacha frowned in displeasure at the narration.
"Is that so?"
"Yes! Of course! Everyone wants to avoid or forget difficult things, but completely turning away and running is a different story."
Her voice carried real weight, as if she'd experienced it herself.
Maybe streaming as Yujacha was her way of temporarily forgetting the hardships of reality.
After all, the saying went that VTubers were often "old men wearing the bodies of virtual girls."
"Besides! If he were really her husband, he wouldn't have taken his beloved wife hostage or tried to kill her first!"
Yujacha spoke with conviction, sniffling a little as she watched the final scene of the protagonist growing cold in his wife's arms.
"Yes… I was myself."
"I wasn't some grand dragon's son named Cheoyong, nor was I someone whose heart was stolen by a mirror filled with spiritual energy."
"I was just a foolish man who swung his sword because he didn't want to see his beloved wife cry."
The fake protagonist reached out one last time to wipe away the tears of Cheoyong's wife.
"…I loved you more than anyone else."
He confessed his truest feelings.
"Sniff, hic…! I think the developers should release an update with an extra ending! Why isn't there a happy ending!!"
Yujacha's voice was thick with tears, a complete contrast to how scared she'd been earlier when calling it a horror game.
Was she actually crying?
I'd known she was soft-hearted, but this strange feeling of our distance shrinking kept growing.
* * *
"Ughhh…! It's finally over. At least playing Yujacha doesn't make me depressed."
After successfully finishing the collab with Kim Baekhyun, Im Yujeong stretched to relieve her fatigue.
"I didn't think we'd go until 2 a.m. He said he has work tomorrow… I might've caused him trouble."
Im Yujeong's usual escape—staying shut in and clinging to internet streaming while disconnected from society—had just ended.
"I-I just hope he doesn't start hating me. I'm scared he'll badmouth or curse me later…"
The moment she stopped acting as the virtual character Yujacha, she began muttering to herself, revealing her characteristically gloomy and negative personality.
"Even if it's okay because he already knows my face… I still don't know how to keep the right distance with actual people."
After the stream ended, Im Yujeong turned on her smartphone and looked at Kim Baekhyun's photo again.
She felt like she'd seen him somewhere before. Where was it?
Maybe she'd just been mistaken because he resembled her favorite character, the crown prince from The Succubus Saintess Doesn't Fall!
Im Yujeong shook off the déjà vu and headed to the bathroom with a comfortable T-shirt and dolphin shorts, planning to shower again.
"Maybe I should shower one more time and go to bed. I've been showering way too often lately…"
She'd been tense from the horror game earlier, and trying to beat the final boss had left her whole body sticky with sweat.
Even with the air-conditioned soundproof booth, the humid rainy season made it impossible to just jump into bed.
"Huh…? Where are my underwear? I definitely hung them on the drying rack."
Im Yujeong noticed something was missing and began panicking, looking around and moving things aside.
Her custom-made K-cup bra and panties—the ones she couldn't even put in a dryer—had disappeared.
They were specially ordered to fit her body comfortably, so even someone as wealthy as Im Yujeong couldn't easily replace them.
She used a special laundry net to protect the underwire and had them repaired whenever the fabric wore out.
There was no internet shopping mall that could deliver something like this the same day, and all her other underwear was either in the washing machine or still damp.
"Did I… drop them off the balcony?"
Plus, with Kim Baekhyun temporarily staying at the apartment, she couldn't ask her staff to look for them either.
How would it look if she brought a man home and then asked people to find her missing underwear?
Anyone would assume she'd been doing something weird outside and had to run away, or that she'd caused some huge accident.
And if she left them and Kim Baekhyun, her editor, happened to find her underwear outside the apartment?
They were expensive, not simple designs but flashy patterns with lace. It would be awkward enough for a grown man to return them to their owner.
"…No. Even if he's my game friend and editor, that can't happen!"
Im Yujeong's face flushed at the ridiculous scenario she'd imagined. For the first time in a month, she prepared to go outside.
"All the men I've met until now only wanted my body anyway."
She didn't want her game friend—who liked the 2D virtual character Yujacha—to see the real her, the third-generation chaebol with an extremely voluptuous figure.
"I-I'll just find them and come right back, Im Yujeong. Then there won't be any problems. There's no way I'll run into anyone at 2 a.m…. Yeah."
So Im Yujeong set out on her adventure on a stormy summer dawn, wearing a long padded coat, hat, sunglasses, and mask to hide her face and figure.