Mom, I Became a Fanatic!
The staff-only mini gallery was buzzing with excitement.
At the exact moment Mazia finished stirring up chaos in her Halloween Dotsumachi stream, the scene shifted to Parallel's Conference Room A.
The first half of the final meeting regarding the 1st Generation's one-year anniversary events—scheduled from November 5th to the 14th—had just wrapped up.
“Alright everyone, let's take a break for dinner and reconvene.”
“Thank you for your hard work!”
“What about the CEO?”
“Oh, me? I'll just grab some kimbap. I've got way too much on my mind right now.”
“Aww, in that case, I'll bring you some coffee when I come back.”
“Thank you, Team Leader.”
In other words, the meeting would resume after dinner. With so many events crammed into such a short window and everything needing to flow organically from start to finish, the planning team was busier than ever.
On Sunday, November 5th: release of the 1st Generation's anniversary new song.
From Tuesday, November 7th through Friday, November 10th: sequential 3D showcases for each of the four 1st Gen members.
On Saturday, November 11th: the Parallel Eve Festival hosted by Cheon Do-hee.
And finally, on November 12th: the 1st Generation's first-ever online group concert using their 3D models.
New song, 3D debuts, and a concert—all lined up in perfect sequence. For the fans, it would be a full week of pure dopamine overload.
Of course, from the company's perspective, this was nothing short of hell week.
The silver lining was that, aside from the Eve Festival on the 11th, almost all preparations were complete. For the Eve Festival itself, the most crucial element was the material to be viewed alongside the audience. The presentation Another 1 Year created by the planning team had received perfect scores in every internal review. After all, it had been built on the foundation of the brutally honest broadcast reports Jia wrote every single day. There wasn't much that could go wrong.
What remained was the live commentary during the actual broadcast. In short, everything would be fine as long as Do-hee's hosting was flawless.
Naturally, no one doubted her abilities. She had already proven herself as the industry's leading figure in terms of subscribers, average viewers, and broadcast metrics. On top of that, her quarterly review show Review Another—which looked back on each 1st Gen member's past three months—had consistently delivered meaningful results in sustained viewership, search volume, and new fan acquisition.
The doubt, however, came from Do-hee herself.
It was the recurring comment that appeared every time she hosted one of those quarterly review broadcasts: “It's fun, but it feels somehow subtly different from what we expected.”
From a purely business standpoint, there was no major problem. But Momo was a streamer before she was a businesswoman. It was only natural that she wanted to identify the cause of even such a minor discomfort and fix it. Most of the feedback had turned positive as each broadcast improved, yet this one lingering issue still felt incredibly annoying.
The problem right now is time.
Only two weeks remained until the Eve Festival. After thinking about it nonstop, it was unrealistic to expect a solution to suddenly appear out of nowhere. And so, once again, Cheon Do-hee chose the businesswoman side of herself over the streamer.
It was better to focus that time on making sure the entire anniversary event went perfectly.
11 p.m.
“Great work, everyone!”
“Let's do a fighting cheer!”
“Come on, CEO, you too.”
““One, two, three—fighting!””
“Let's go~!”
The marathon meeting that had seemed endless finally came to a close. The planning and promotions teams had spent the final stretch in an endless debate over ad placement and promotional timing, sparks practically flying from their heads. Still, everything had been wrapped up satisfactorily, and their expressions showed clear relief.
Already, several people were revving up to grab drinks despite the late hour. However, Do-hee's worries continued even after the meeting ended, since she still had to go live. With her forehead resting in her hand as she revised the script, she didn't exactly welcome the excited atmosphere.
“Everyone. You know we're only just getting started, right? We'll have a proper party after everything's over. For today, let's wrap up simply and go home to get some real rest, okay?”
The planning team leader and promotions team leader, who had been enthusiastically organizing a dinner get-together, awkwardly cleared the room first. They had tried to drag their subordinates along but backed off after reading the room. Thanks to that, the younger employees breathed a sigh of relief. They bowed deeply in gratitude as they left.
After the last remaining staff member and Do-hee turned off the lights and exited the conference room, one corner of the now-dim office was surprisingly lively. Wondering if the team leaders had planned another drinking session, she glanced over—only to find it wasn't them.
In the long rectangular office, at the partition closest to the main entrance, Mazia and Gong Seung-yeon were watching several monitors broadcasting streams.
Looks like the Halloween broadcast is going well.
Just yesterday it had been absolute war—complaints about parts not attaching properly, awkward sections, “Please fix this,” “I received the email,” “Illustrator-nim, we’re begging you.” But today, there seemed to be no major issues. If there had been, Mazia would have been the first one bursting into the conference room.
Curious, Do-hee strode over, rested both arms on top of the partition, and propped her chin on her clasped hands. The two were chatting animatedly with one side of their headsets pulled back so their ears weren't fully covered.
“That conversation just now, doesn't it remind you of the Mari-Dora pairing?”
“From half a year ago during Black Company.”
“Yes, exactly! Even when a monster appeared, Komari stayed completely calm while Dora was screaming. It was just like when that surprise box opened earlier. ‘Kyaaak! Mari! Catch it for me! Catch that thing! Mom! Mooom!’”
“Now that you mention it, the ‘Mama-ri’ meme probably started around then. That was the first time Mari used her real voice, right?”
“Oh. I think you're right. She hated it so much, but the reaction was good so she kept getting milked for donations….”
“That was seriously evil.”
“Ugh… Hearing that from the team leader feels weird. Why does it sound like a compliment?”
They got along well, but the conversation between two professional trolls was genuinely hilarious to watch.
“Personally, I'd love to see Mama-ri more often. Do you remember during Fallen Soul?”
“When she walked straight into the hole in the floor and fell.”
“Yes! That moment! She immediately switched to her real voice and used it for a while after that. It was so different from her usual Komari tone that I must have replayed that clip two hundred times.”
“Uh… Didn't she use her real voice for quite a while recently during Rubber Duck House?”
“I was preparing for my interview back then so I missed it……”
“Ah. Did they mute that scene in the VOD?”
“Yes! There was definitely a chicken leg when she put it in the fridge, but when she took it out to heat it up, it felt like only the leg had mysteriously vanished…!!”
“Oh no. Want to try recreating the feeling?”
“…Huh? You can do that? I thought you only did Rain impressions?”
“Doing it exactly is hard. Just something close. You'll have to apply the filter yourself, Seung-yeon.”
“Whoa. Are you a genius, Team Leader? I'm definitely listening.”
Ahem. Mazia cleared her throat, straightened her posture, and began speaking as if letting out a long sigh.
“I'm seriously going crazy…. I'm really right now… I can see the lane in front of me. I see the turret. I keep having visions of the enemy laner getting a kill…. Ah. I can't take it anymore. Just one game. No, since it's 1 a.m. right now, let's play until 2. The CEO would probably forgive this much.”
Gong Seung-yeon, who had been savoring the impression with her eyes closed, shouted,
“Amazing. I can hear it, I can hear it. I found the missing chicken leg…!”
The scene she had witnessed so casually sent massive ripples through Cheon Do-hee's heart. This was because Do-hee's and Jia-Seung-yeon's points of empathy regarding Komari's Rubber Duck House broadcast were subtly different.
What remained most vivid for Do-hee wasn't Komari's real voice, but the moment her carefully maintained roleplay had been completely shattered by the baptism of real voice.
The difference in how people perceive things….
Even when watching the same scene, evaluations naturally differ from person to person. Imagine if Momo and the viewers had watched Rain's Korean patch fail and start swearing together. Momo would reflexively say, “Tone down the swearing and speak more politely.” After all, to Momo, the 1st Gen members were like idols under her agency. Watching them made her naturally offer directions: this would be better, let's avoid that, this seems fine. In other words, she tended to analyze the broadcast rather than simply feel it.
But what about Mazia? She would cackle while watching, then immediately pull out her phone and send a donation. “Wow, that ssang-york was so clean, you're fucking good at ssang-york!”
The reason the current monitoring work—which had originally been the planning team's job—had been handed over to Mazia? Because she could watch the broadcasts with the eyes of a genuine viewer, even though she was an employee.
The logic of “We have to defend them since they're our company's VTubers” simply didn't exist for Mazia. Her reports were always closer to “viewer impressions.” What was fun, what wasn't, what she'd like to see more of, what she'd rather not see again, and so on. She presented her opinions as one of many viewers, delivering straightforward and honest feedback.
In other words, the viewers' evaluation that Do-hee's 1st Gen quarterly reviews were fun but somehow different from what they expected—if that really came down to a difference in perspective, then Do-hee couldn't help but want to test it properly.
What if Jia hosted the Eve Festival? Would the feeling be different…?
But asking Jia, who had never done a solo broadcast before, to “Go ahead and host the Eve Festival yourself” would be far too much pressure. So if she were to bring Jia onto the stream, it would naturally be a two-person setup. Cheon Do-hee would proceed as the main host, while Mazia would induce viewer empathy from a viewer's perspective. Like a game caster and commentator.
Jia would only need to deliver reactions close to what viewers would have.
However, to do that, they would have to reveal Jia's completed rigging and model. A broadcast where only one side moved would feel incomplete. On the other hand, freezing Momo's model would make it seem like the stream was only half-prepared.
But at a time when all attention should be on the 1st Generation, revealing a Live2D that some fans might interpret as Mazia's debut? That was quite risky. If she consulted the planning team, they'd likely give negative opinions.
Still… if it's Jia….
Yet Mazia had the remarkable achievement from the Battle Coliseum to her name. During that time when everyone's attention had focused on her as if by appointment, she had magically redirected that interest straight to the 1st Gen before making her exit. That moment was still brought up in promotions team meetings. Thanks to her, advertising offers had poured in, and the one-year anniversary song teaser video had surpassed 300,000 views. It might not sound like much, but after a teaser drops, the full video usually comes out within one to two weeks. Normally it barely crossed 100,000 views— this time it was three times that. And all within just one week. The metrics proved the level of interest was incomparably higher than usual.
So even if everyone was shocked by Mazia moving and speaking on the broadcast screen and all attention shifted to her instead of the 1st Gen, wouldn't she be able to cleanly redirect that interest to the concert the very next day?
Most importantly, this time Do-hee would be right there beside her. If Jia ran into any trouble, Do-hee could just become a missile turret and blast it away.
Still, the person's own opinion is what matters most.
She'd ask, and if Jia said it was fine, then they'd do it.
*
“If you have some free time on the 11th, could you help me with my broadcast?”
After leaving monitoring duty to Seung-yeon and responding to the summons by heading to the CEO's office, those unexpected words were waiting for her. Help with her broadcast? From the CEO, whose pride in her own streams was so overflowing it practically spilled over?
“Are you feeling sick somewhere?”
“…Where did that come from all of a sudden?”
“The person who absolutely hated anyone interfering with her broadcasts is suddenly asking for help. Of course I'm surprised.”
The CEO, who had looked tense when she first brought it up, burst into laughter.
“Ah. You thought I might use being sick as an excuse to skip the broadcast, so you asked?”
“Please don't turn me into a crazy person who can't watch the CEO's streams.”
“…Hmm. So you were genuinely worried.”
“I really was worried you might not do the broadcast.”
“This girl, seriously.”
To be precise, she had made the joke because the mood was getting too serious. She kept reading the room even though she could have just accepted the task comfortably.
“How exactly would I be helping with the broadcast?”
“We're doing the Eve Festival on the 11th. I thought it would be good to host it together with you, so I asked.”
No matter how difficult the task, if it was a request from Oshi, she would definitely accomplish it. Each time, she felt more joy than burden. I was helpful to Oshi. I need to work even harder!
Even so, this time it made her a little nervous. After all, it wasn't anyone else's stream—it was Oshi's, the CEO's.
“What if I end up ruining your broadcast by butting in?”
“If it's too much pressure, you can refuse. I really just came to make a suggestion, not an order.”
“It's not that it's burdensome. It's just… the thought of openly showing my face on the CEO's broadcast feels a bit much. Like I'm leaving an ugly footprint with a big stomp or something.”
“…The person who sniped me every Battle Coliseum is saying that?”
“Sniping isn't about leaving footprints—it's about sniping the CEO's head—”
“Hey.”
It sounded like a joke, but it was true. If sniping meant inducing reactions from the stream's owner to hype them up, this proposal was about sitting side by side and broadcasting together. The 1st Gen members were one level above her, so she could at least peek in easily. But the CEO was two levels above. It was originally a seat that shouldn't even allow for such familiarity.
However, even so.
Ever since becoming smaller, she had constantly felt like she wasn't trusted by others, and it had been bothering her. If the CEO trusted her enough to personally entrust her with such an important task first, why would she refuse?
“I'll do it as you suggested, CEO. How should I approach it? Should I argue with what you say, agree with you, or reinterpret it?”
She shrugged her shoulders and spoke to the slightly surprised CEO.
“I'll do whatever you want me to do.”