An Angel Descends

"......?"

Right on the verge of ending the stream, a 2 million subscriber VTuber appeared out of nowhere.

I couldn't hide my bewilderment at this completely unexpected guest, but it was only for a moment.

"...Huh?"

Latte unnie's relaxed expression, which had been loose just moments ago, turned pale in an instant.

"E-En... Angel...? E-Engel... Wh-why...?"

She looked like she'd been hit by a botch, unable to even speak properly.

I asked Angel on her behalf, my voice trembling.

"Wh-what brings someone as esteemed as you to... this humble stream..."

"......"

Angel's second donation followed. The amount was smaller this time, but my expression hardened even more.

What the hell is she after...?

No, what kind of play is this? Why would someone with 2 million subs bother? And why ditch normal hours ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to hit me at 3 AM? Plus, that creepy smiley (^^) at the end of every sentence was seriously pissing me off. And calling me 'streamer Seong Yume' right to my face? She's blatantly referencing my Red Pill incident.

As I stared at the chat, mulling over the weird discomfort in her tone...

Angel sent another superchat my way.

"...Yes?"

"......"

So my unease wasn't just imagination. Who'd have thought a 2 million sub VTuber would straight-up mention my past life? And phrasing it like 'not doing it anymore?'—pure Kyoto-style indirect talk.

I answered her question, breaking into a cold sweat.

"Wh-what are you talking about... haha... I haven't done any music since debuting..."

But her follow-up question left my mind blank for a moment.

"......"

Quit being an idol, debut as a VTuber. Fine up to there. VTubers are more entertainers than artists anyway—no real ties to showbiz. That's why BK Ent. hasn't touched me despite the Red Pill drama.

But music is different.

They'll flip out immediately. Throw Zenith trademarks at me, sue my ass. They're a big corp with an exclusive legal team. Me? Solo indie VTuber. David vs. Goliath. Rationally, a fight to avoid.

But...

"I have to."

So what? Company's problems ain't my business. If I was gonna quit, I wouldn't have started. My goals: Jamsil and revenge. Backing down 'cause the company's scary? Like fearing maggots and skipping kimchi. Climb to the top, shove it back at the bastards who screwed me. That's the fuel for my VTuber run.

"I'm a 17-year-old high school girl VTuber dreaming of being an idol, after all."

[......]

After my response, silence—no more superchats.

The tense quiet hung over the audio-dead stream for a while.

Then—

Ppoba-ppoba!

The trumpet blared again, and Angel's superchat popped up.

"......?"

A 1 million won superchat with no message.

And with that, Angel vanished from my stream.

"What the..."

I was dumbfounded by her bizarre exit, but only briefly.

Late to snap out of it, Latte unnie muttered to herself.

"...D-did she leave?"

"No... what could I do? I'm not close with Angel."

"Why?"

"Got cut off. Trolled in a streamer tourney..."

"......"

Come to think of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it, this unnie's gaming skills were hopelessly bad, right? Famous story—even I knew. Took her 20 hours to clear a jar game or something...

"Ahaha..."

She was avoiding eye contact, so probably more to it, but I didn't wanna pry. Changed the subject.

"Anyway... it's finally over."

"The stream. About 3 minutes left earlier, so now..."

"...Ah."

As I tried to wrap up naturally, the 3-hour timer stared back.

Latte unnie asked cautiously.

"You... an idiot by any chance?"

"......"

I wanted to cry.

In a dark room lit only by the computer glow, a disheveled blonde girl stared at the monitor with entranced eyes.

"......"

Suspiciously high-quality virtual avatar. And that familiar voice coming from it.

As she buried her face in her lap and moved the mouse...

Bang!

The door flew open violently, revealing a man with a twisted face.

"Come out."

Behind him, a thinly dressed woman stared blankly at her phone. Familiar face—probably from that controversial girl group.

The girl muttered lazily.

"...President."

She stood, dragging her trembling legs toward the door.

The woman beside him clicked her tongue.

Then the president slapped the girl's cheek.

Slap!

"You think I expected greatness? Just stir up some controversy by mentioning the Red Pill!!"

The girl's face flushed red to the side.

Panting, he continued.

"Can't even follow simple orders? Huh?"

"......"

"If you're gonna half-ass it, don't bother. Why interfere and make a fuss!!"

No reply.

CEO Kim Young-ho raised his hand again.

Smack, slap!

A few more blows. Finally calming, he grabbed her skinny wrist roughly.

"Come on. No streaming for a while."

Her frail body was dragged without resistance.

Even as she was pulled away, she glanced desperately back.

The screen showed a lone superchat.