Should I Try Being a Review YouTuber?
I had nothing to do.
Money wasn't something I needed to worry about. All I had to figure out was what I actually wanted to do with my life — and finding that was turning out to be a lot harder than it sounded.
Maybe I should start a YouTube channel...
I already spent two hours a day on piano practice, and once dinner was over I had nothing but leftover time on my hands. Trying it out didn't seem like such a bad idea.
What kind of content, though?
Face cams were off the table. I'd gotten to the point where I could walk around with my head held high in front of people I knew, but the thought of exposing my face to a swarm of complete strangers still felt like more than I could handle.
Well. Plenty of channels don't show their face anyway.
Time to get creative. The content had to work without showing my face, couldn't be too hard for me to actually produce, needed to be sustainable over the long haul, and — if I was going to be picky — shouldn't be the kind of thing that split people into love-it-or-hate-it camps.
Hmm....
Nothing came to me, so I tabled it. No rush. It could wait.
"Yena. You ever think about becoming an idol?"
"Nope."
Park Ha-jun's jaw dropped.
"If you don't become an idol, who will?"
"People who actually want to, I assume."
"Well, yeah, but there's nobody out there as pretty as you who can also sing like that."
This kid really just said stuff like that with a straight face. Was it because he was still so young?
"Scratch that. You're a terrible dancer, so idol work might be a stretch anyway. These days idols have to be good at everything."
This little shit?
"Who are you calling a terrible dancer?"
"You dance worse than I do, don't you? Objectively speaking, you're bad enough that 'terrible' is the right word."
"Fine. Let's settle this."
"With dancing?"
"Yeah."
"I'm going to win, you know. You okay with that....?"
I wanted to wipe that look right off his face — the one that didn't contain even a molecule of doubt.
"You never know who wins until the match is over."
"Some things you know without even going there."
"Hah. Whatever. Save it for after we compete."
"Fine, fine. So who's going to judge?"
"My mom, obviously."
"Yeah, that tracks. Then we just need to pick a dance."
"You choose."
"The person who's worse at it is supposed to pick. That's how you keep things fair."
"Haha. Just you wait."
"Don't talk big, Yena."
My hand almost flew on its own. I remembered he was eight years old and held it in.
Good job, me.
In the end, we settled on a currently trending idol dance track.
"A week of practice should be enough, right?"
"Plenty."
"I don't think it will be.... Want to just make it two weeks?"
"No. Stick with a week."
"Well. If you're going to be that stubborn, I guess I can't stop you. Good luck, then."
"Yeah."
Ha-jun left a moment later, and I opened the system window.
You should never have touched this.
I pulled up the window and added Dance. I was eight years old, which meant I'd cleared eight of this year's missions — and that meant I could add up to eight abilities. I only had five so far, and only because I hadn't found anything else worth adding.
I checked the points I'd saved up so far.
Fourteen points, huh...
It looked like a lot, but dumping the whole pile into Dance would burn through them in a heartbeat. Realistically, the most I could earn in a year was seven points. Blowing all fourteen just to beat Ha-jun felt like a waste.
Let's go the hard-work genius route.
Solving everything with points all the time would get boring, wouldn't it? So this time I decided I'd only raise it to C- and win the rest with actual effort.
All right. Let's do this.
I slotted in three points, brought Dance up to C-, and started practicing.
The day of the match arrived.
"Ready, Yena?"
"Yeah."
"Want me to go first?"
"No. I'm going first."
Time to show him what a week of hard work looked like.
I took my place in the living room.
"Go, Yena!"
Mom had been watching the two of us the whole time, and her cheer sent a little extra energy through me. I launched into the dance, pouring every hour of the past week into every move.
"Wow! Yena, you're so good!"
I could see Mom smiling. At least it wasn't embarrassing to watch.
C- is amateur level, honestly.
The lowest end of amateur, sure — but unless the person watching you had spent years in a dance-related profession and developed a brutally high standard, it was more than good enough to look impressive.
The demonstration ended, and applause broke out.
"I knew my Yena was a genius! I have no idea who you get it from, dancing like that!"
Mom squeezed me in a tight hug, and I gave her a simple answer.
"I get it from you, Mom. That's why I'm a genius."
I watched both of her eyes turn into little hearts, then turned my head toward Ha-jun.
He's definitely shaking right now.
He had to be. I was eight years old with a C- in Dance — already a solid stat for my age — and I'd shoved piano practice aside to pour everything into this.
I looked at his face, fully expecting to savor the moment, and then I froze.
He's... not shaking?
Ha-jun wasn't nervous at all. He was just standing there, calmly running through the choreography in his head.
It's a bluff.
Yeah. That was the only explanation that made sense. How was a kid who'd never formally learned to dance supposed to beat me now that I'd broken into C-tier?
"Heh. Your bluff's been called, Ha-jun."
"?"
I settled onto the couch, perfectly at ease.
Go on. Dance.
I'd watch the whole thing and then give him some proper feedback.
A moment later, the same track I'd just performed to filled the living room, and Ha-jun started to move.
Oh. He's better than I expected?
The opening caught me off guard. He was actually pretty good.
That's probably his ceiling, though.
When your stats are low, the further you get into a routine, the more your real ability gets stripped naked for everyone to see.
But the song passed the opening and rolled into the middle, and the quality of his dancing didn't drop. If anything, it looked like it was going up.
?
What was this? This looked exactly like someone with a higher Dance stat than mine.
No way.
I snapped his system window open, and a hollow little laugh slipped out of me.
C+?
That was two full ranks above me. Of course I was going to lose.
A one-stat gap I could smash through with the hard-work-beats-talent approach. A two-stat gap was the realm of raw talent — something effort alone couldn't break.
Come to think of it, this kid...
He'd been dancing since he was little.
I should have seen this coming!
Whenever he danced, I'd just shrugged it off. Dancing a lot didn't automatically mean you'd get better and better — that wasn't how it worked. And yet here I was, watching an eight-year-old who'd turned every bit of that experience into a C+.
He had talent too, I'm sure.
I just didn't want to write off everything he'd put in with a lazy label like "talent freak."
I conceded.
"I lose."
Ha-jun stopped dancing and started walking toward me, one step at a time.
Is he coming over to comfort me?
Hah. This was something else. A thirty-eight-year-old, getting consoled by an eight-year-old. My pride wanted no part of it, but I decided to let it slide out of respect for the gesture.
All right. Let's hear it.
What was he going to say? Something safe, probably. You did great. You worked really hard. That kind of thing.
I focused on his mouth, waiting for whatever came out.
"Hoo~ Yena. Don't come at me again. You dance like ass."
"What?"
"Want me to say it again? You. Dance. Like. Complete. Ass."
"Heh heh..."
Fuck...
"Rematch."
"Sorry, what was that....? Must be because a loser said it. I didn't quite catch it."
"I said rematch!"
I wasn't losing this time. I'd already pushed Dance all the way to B.
"Why would I?"
"Huh...?"
"Why would I compete with you again? Give me a reason I can actually accept."
"Well. Uh."
What was I supposed to say? Rematch me because I can win now? No. That was way too pathetic. What was I doing, acting like this against an eight-year-old?
Maybe I looked so miserable that even he felt bad, because Ha-jun tossed out an offer like he was doing me a favor.
"Say 'please give me a rematch' and I'll dance again."
"Kh."
The injustice of it. I'd raised my Dance stat, and the only way to actually use it was to swallow my pride.
"Please...."
"Hmm? What was that? I can't hear you."
"Please give me a re...."
"Try saying it properly. Your pronunciation is awful, Yena."
"AAAAARGH! Just rematch me already!"
I couldn't take it.
"Are you mad at me right now?"
"Huh?"
"Hoo~ Forget it. I made that offer because I was thinking of you, and you just yelled at me. There's no rematch."
Meanwhile, Lee Yena's mother Ju Seo-hui sat off to the side eating popcorn, watching the whole thing with a gentle smile.
Look at them, having so much fun.
Just another ordinary day.
A week after losing the dance battle, I finally decided what kind of content I was going to make.
Review channel it is.
I'd never run out of things to cover, and anyone could watch it comfortably. I couldn't think of a better fit.
I created a YouTube channel in no time and started thinking about what to review for the first video.
Hmm. Maybe I should put up an Attack on Titan review?
I wasn't planning to spoil anything, of course. I'd review it based on what had actually come out so far.
Only season one is out, huh.
That was more than enough for a video. Nothing to worry about.
Sign here. Attack on Titan is a masterpiece that will go down in history.
I'd picked review content for the reasons I'd already told myself — I'd never run dry, and anyone could watch it. But there was one more reason.
I wanted other people to enjoy the anime and movies I'd loved as much as I had.
Ah.
There was some personal baggage mixed in, if I was being honest.
Back in elementary school, I'd brought up Attack on Titan and the girls had branded me a weeb on the spot.
Is that kid a weeb?
Yeah. Don't go near him.
That part hadn't actually bothered me. People who watched anime getting treated like dirt wasn't exactly news.
The problem was those same girls in high school.
Attack on Titan is a masterpiece, right?
For real. The author's a genius.
That wasn't what you said. You were the kids who didn't watch anime!
That memory was still a wound.
I will save the people who are about to get called weebs.
Which meant my first review video could only be about Attack on Titan.
I had to stop Attack on Titan fans all over the country from getting treated like weebs.
Tap-tap-tap.
I started making the review.