45 Days of Hiatus: The Worst BAD Streamer

The General VTuber Minor Gallery.

GenVtubGal, for short. It was where people gathered to say the things they could not say in a VTuber's chat or on a fan cafe, and on an ordinary day only two or three hundred of them were actually around.

Yu Yuna looked down at her phone and laughed.

She had posted a mere possibility of a broadcast on the fan cafe, and a mob of thoroughly furious fans was presently beating her to a pulp with great satisfaction. Even she had to admit that forty-five days of hiatus in a row was a bit much. But what was she supposed to do? Real life, which mattered far more than any stream, had genuinely been that busy. It wasn't as if she had left the broadcast dark because she didn't feel like turning it on.

"President. We'll be starting the shoot shortly."

"All right. I'm on my way."

Great lamps hung from the ceiling and flooded the white set with light, while equipment and cables ran in long lines beside the camera rail.

A studio somewhere in Seoul. What they were filming was a commercial for chicken, and one table already held it by the box. A food stylist worried the batter into shape with tongs; the lighting crew hunted the angle at which the chicken would look most delicious, shifting the lamps by inches.

The set was livelier than usual, and more solemn, too. The liveliness was because a star beyond any comparison with an ordinary celebrity was standing on it. The solemnity was because the advertiser herself had come down to the set in person. And the star and the advertiser were the same person.

"A fourth-generation chaebol, and a face that eats every visual tier alive? God really doesn't play fair."

"If that were all of it, it'd already be nonsense. Early graduation from an overseas elite university at fifteen, an economics master's at seventeen, president of an affiliate at twenty-one? Write a biography of great lives like that and you'd get cursed out for making it up."

The staff were whispering it where they thought they wouldn't be heard. Work in broadcasting long enough and you see impressive people, then see them again: national hosts who had raised buildings worth hundreds of billions of won on broadcast money and piled the assets high; handsome actors who had stepped into ten-million-ticket films more than once; center idols of the first tier, whom the whole country agreed, in one voice, were beautiful. Even people in the industry who took that sort of company in as easily as breathing found Yu Yuna's résumé shocking.

Granddaughter of Yuseong Group, number one in the business rankings of Korea. President of Yuseong F&B, an affiliate of that same group. And, at the same time, a stunning beauty whose looks had already put her in Yuseong Group commercials more than once.

"The new product is Chocolate Chicken? Are they in their right mind?"

"I heard that, name aside, it's a completely proper dish."

"Look at it and it seems like the kind of toxic viral chicken that flashes through a YouTuber challenge and disappears."

"No, no. They said a famous ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chef collaborated on it."

"A famous chef isn't right every time."

"Still. Yu Yuna made it. I heard not one thing she's put out has ever failed."

"True. Think we'll get to try some once the shoot's over?"

She was no simple parachute appointment. Becoming president at only twenty-one had been the reflection of actual results. An eye for trends. From a very young age she had turned out recipes that hit like a jackpot, and she had foreseen the great boom in Chinese food early enough to seize the market ahead of everyone else. Not after she came of age. From the time she was thirteen.

A monster who had produced results far too early, in her studies and in management alike. A chaebol more celebrity than the celebrities: the first love of any number of boys, and the idol of girls.

"Thank you for your work on the shoot, President."

Once filming was over, the director came up and bowed and scraped from a low posture. On most sets the director was the one holding the cards, but here a super-ultra client stood quite apart from that arrangement. The power to make a veteran director in his fifties duck his head first. And it was not solely because of the backdrop called Yuseong Group.

"You worked hard as well, Director."

"I'll see to it that a cut you'll be satisfied with is delivered as soon as possible."

"Please prove it with results, not words. I'll be trusting you."

A beautiful young woman in a refined suit approached. Cha Yeonju, Yu Yuna's secretary.

"President. After this, a family dinner is scheduled at your father's residence. Shall I have a car prepared?"

"Ah, I'll drive myself. You can clock out."

"Understood. Thank you for all your work on today's shoot."

Admiration gathered in Cha Yeonju's eyes. Yu Yuna was not simply a chaebol with a great deal of money. She was a successful executive whose ability at the actual work had been proven past argument, and looks good enough to stand as the commercial's own model were merely a bonus on top of that.

After Yu Yuna slipped out toward the parking lot, the "disposal" of the leftover chicken began on set. Staff who had been curious how Chocolate Chicken tasted crowded in all at once and tried the sample pieces left over from the shoot.

"No—why is this actually good?"

"It's really good?"

"This isn't chocolate, is it?"

"It is chocolate. You can't taste the bitterness in this cacao?"

"They say it's mole. A traditional Mexican sauce, cacao mixed with chili."

A staffer who had read the advertising proposal offered a little commentary on the thing itself.

"Then why is the name Chocolate Chicken?"

"Because that hits harder. Almost nobody knows mole sauce. Everybody knows chocolate."

"Say chocolate, and I feel like even the people who meant to eat it would all run away."

"Better than calling it Mole Chicken and getting no interest at all. We all crowded over here because we were curious, didn't we?"

Yu Yuna drove her own car to her father's house.

Today was the day the family had agreed to have dinner together, and in the garage of the residence she met the older brother who had been waiting for her.

Yu Yujeong. Nine years her senior, a man who had just stepped into his thirties.

"The Chairman says he'll be retiring soon."

Yu Yujeong said it standing perfectly straight. The tone was level, but his eyes stayed fixed on his sister.

"Does he? Grandfather has gotten pretty old."

Yu Yuna answered as if it were nothing. As if it stirred no particular feeling in her.

"He's planning to name me the successor."

"Good. Congratulations."

Yu Yujeong was quiet for a moment. His sister's real intentions were hard to read.

"Yuna. How long are you planning to wear that mask? You're not someone who'd be satisfied as nothing more than president of an affiliate."

Yu Yuna blinked her large eyes once, and then again. She even tipped her head a little, as if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she had no idea what he was talking about.

Yu Yujeong looked at that expression for a moment, and then he spoke.