An Editor Has Arrived — One Who Can Fully Handle Deviant Desires
I'd been laughing like a lunatic at the comments under the edited confession video. Then I wiped the grin off my face and hit replay.
Why rewatch it? Because when I'd checked the community sites, ego-searching had been the whole point — I hadn't actually watched the thing properly.
Just how entertaining was this edit, that the comments were this glowing?
And just how maliciously had it been cut together, that it had turned one person into a certified freak?
Curiosity got the better of me. I watched the video from start to finish, and when it was over, all I could do was quietly nod.
It was good.
The pure, unfiltered madness that had erupted during the confession segment had been wrapped in comedy so cleanly that it landed as humor, and the particular revulsion of deviant fetishes had been neutralized enough that ordinary people could watch without flinching.
And that wasn't even the half of it. Whoever edited this clearly understood each fetish on a deep level — they'd even laid out the exact hot points of every deviant desire, neatly labeled and ready to go.
An incredible talent: the ability to scrub the disgust off a dish called "deviant fetish" and make even people with normal tastes take a bite.
I was so impressed I rewatched the video two, three times in a daze. And the conclusion I reached was this:
"There's no way this person only watched my stream once or twice. You don't get quality like this from a casual viewer."
The editor was a regular. Someone who followed my broadcasts consistently.
And —
"I need to start Latube. So that's why the Fox God was so full of energy — it was because of this video."
If I wanted to gather a million people's worth of jeong-gi as fast as the Fox God had said, I needed to start Latube right now.
The uploaded video had 83,000 views.
By simple math: if half of them had been enchanted, that was 41,500 people's worth of jeong-gi. Even if only a quarter had fallen for it, that was still 20,750.
A single stream averaged about 1,500 people's worth. Meaning this one video had earned me the equivalent of nearly twenty broadcasts.
…This was broken. Completely broken.
Why had I thought about promoting on community sites but never once considered using Latube?
Even if I'd uploaded some janky, amateur edit, a few people would have watched it.
I was still berating myself for my own stupidity, about to smash the create-channel button, when a short blurb under the video caught my eye.
I do not monetize any of the videos I upload.
FoxBeastmanIsInsane♡? If you've seen this video and you're interested, please get in touch. succu6974@…
Get in touch if you're interested.
That meant what I thought it meant, right? An offer to edit my stream footage?
If I was reading it correctly, the fact that they'd reached out first was genuinely appreciated… but did this person not care about managing their own channel?
They had a hundred thousand subscribers.
Managing their own channel alone should have been more than enough work — and they wanted to be my editor on top of that? Wasn't that overdoing it?
I was worried. Separately from the worry, though, I was also greedy.
If someone who made videos at this quality level was willing to help me, gathering a million people's worth of jeong-gi wouldn't take long at all, would it?
Then I wouldn't have to worry about getting dragged off to some research lab. I wouldn't have to go on high alert every time a delivery arrived.
This would solve my single biggest practical problem. Wasn't this something I should grab with both hands?
I didn't deliberate long.
I typed out a few questions, attached a photo that roughly proved I was me, and sent it to the email listed under the video. Then, while I waited for a reply, I got started on commission work.
An editor this good was definitely going to charge hard.
I had no idea how much they'd ask per video, so the smart move was to earn as much as possible before the email came back.
How much was this going to cost? And if the expenses ran too high, would I not be able to buy next month's hot fox-beastman manga? I fretted over it while working on a commissioned piece.
Beep! Clunk!
The door lock clicked open, and my buddy walked in holding something.
What was this bastard doing here without a word? He wasn't the type to just show up unannounced.
I stared at him. He set whatever he'd brought on the table and opened his mouth.
"Didn't have anything going on today, so I just came to hang. Don't look at me like that, you little shit."
"If you've got nothing to do, go to your own place. Why the hell are you showing up at mine?"
"My place is empty and boring. I bought chicken instead — cut me some slack."
"Fried or sauced?"
"Safe pick. Garlic soy. Good enough?"
"Good enough. I'm only letting this slide because of the chicken. For real."
Eating chicken for lunch on an empty stomach was a guaranteed recipe for feeling bloated later.
Didn't matter. Feeling bloated was Future Me's problem — not Present Me, who was about to eat well.
I set out some plates half-assedly and started eating with my friend. Midway through, I filled him in on what had just happened.
"Oh yeah — if things go well, I might be able to go human-form soon."
"Human-form? Didn't you need a million people's worth of jeong-gi for that? I thought that took forever."
"Starting Latube should speed it up. Some editor who's actually good told me to contact them if I was interested."
"That's a scam, right? Why would someone like that want to edit videos for a deranged freak like you?"
"That's what I'm saying. I have no idea why they'd offer. I already sent the email, though. If it feels off, I'll cut contact immediately."
I was still chewing on the lingering doubt — literally, by tearing into a drumstick — when my friend looked at me with a serious expression.
"By the way. Once the ears and tail are gone, you're gonna be genuinely unfuckable, huh?"
"Right? But at home I'm just gonna keep the ears and tail out. Having them out is hotter, and more importantly — without this luscious tail, I can't sleep."
"You've already fallen so far you can't live without a tail? Beastman corruption complete already? Works for me."
"That's enough out of you, you nasty furry freak."
He shrugged off my contempt and seemed to refocus on the chicken — then suddenly picked up an uneaten drumstick and started staring at it with a deeply interested look.
What kind of bullshit was he about to start now?
Whenever he made that particular shitty face, nothing but shitty words ever came out of his mouth.
I sighed and reached for my favorite piece — a wing — just as he tossed a question my way.
"Hey."
"What."
"What do you think it feels like to fuck a chicken beastman? And how insane do you think the pleasure is for a chicken getting it in the cloaca?"
"Don't ruin my appetite, you piece of shit. Just eat quietly. Why the hell are you looking at a drumstick and fantasizing about that?"
I was so genuinely disgusted I flung the cleaned wing bone at his face. He dodged it easily and kept going.
"Come on, you're curious too, right? A cloaca basically means you get pussy and anal pleasure at the same time. That's hot as hell, no?"
Was it?
Feeling two kinds of pleasure in one place did sound kind of hot, actually… no, wait —
"You insane zoophile freak! We're eating chicken — stop talking about filthy shit, for fuck's sake!"
And why, of all times, did he have to bring this up while we were eating good chicken? No — he was always like this, but today he was somehow even more unbearable.
I finally snapped. I stood up, grabbed a frying pan from nearby, and brought it down on the crown of his head.
"When you're eating, eat like a normal person!"
CLANG!!!!!
I came home after finishing "work" to find my inbox buried under a mountain of mail, as usual.
Most of it was prank messages. The rest were other Latubers begging me to become their editor.
I deleted nearly everything and filtered for the kind of email that streamer might have sent.
Their true identity: a god — or a Transcendent.
They might have written with the arrogant tone befitting their existence. Or, for the sake of genuine amusement, they might have written like a human.
I filtered carefully, then scrutinized what little remained even more carefully. And at last, I found the email I believed was hers.
Whether she wanted to savor true entertainment or not, she'd come in low, writing out a few questions in a humble register.
I was impressed by how genuinely human the reaction felt — until I skimmed down to the last question, and a chill ran through me.
That wasn't a question. That was her displeasure, laid bare.
Hadn't that been intentional? The way she talked so vulgarly, the way those huge breasts bounced around — I'd assumed she was doing it on purpose.
"…Did I piss her off? If so, this whole thing is dead in the water."
It might not even stop at "dead in the water."
An enraged her might drain every last drop of my jeong-gi and leave me as something that used to be a succubus.
"Becoming Succubus Queen isn't the issue right now… this is a matter of my life."
I had ambitions of becoming a Succubus Queen, but right now I was just an ordinary succubus.
A fragile little succubus who could be snuffed out of existence by a single pointed finger from a god — or a Transcendent.
"I have to calm her down somehow… but how? It's already everywhere on the internet!"
Taking the video down now would be useless.
Views had already passed a hundred thousand, and the comments were roasting her and her viewers alive.
"…I'm fucked. I am so completely, utterly fucked."
Was this what despair felt like?
Twenty-four years as a succubus, and for the first time in my life — I felt despair.