Keep Your Cool

The day before the Wooga-dol audition.

Ssa-yo thought to himself that things had gotten far too big.

This was never the original plan.

He had taken inspiration from the massive success of a virtual idol audition hosted by Rabbit TV’s mega-streamer Uwakdu, and simply considered a scaled-down version of that same group. From Ssa-yo’s perspective, that was only natural. He and Uwakdu were already worlds apart in broadcasting weight class, and their environments could not have been more different. The virtual ecosystem on Rabbit TV, where Uwakdu streamed, was overwhelmingly better developed than Pangea TV’s.

And that was not all. Uwakdu’s fandom was legendary for its loyalty. Part of that came down to his streaming style—while other mega-streamers focused on solo content or collabs with fellow streamers, Uwakdu uniquely centered viewer-participation content, and he had been doing it for a very long time. He had early on built a Naver Café to house those devoted fans, and experts from every field had flocked there, forging the formidable Uwakdu Corps.

The works those fans poured out under the banner of “tribute” were nothing to laugh at. The quality rivaled what you would get if you actually paid professionals for commissions. That was the unique strength of the Uwakdu Corps. You could look at every other mega-streamer of similar caliber and never find anything like it.

Just how broken that power was had already been proven by several cases. For one member’s solo concert preparations alone, eighty fans had worked for three full months. Calculating labor costs alone at two million won per person per month put the total at four hundred eighty million won over the project period. Some of those people were active industry professionals—was two million a month even an overestimate? When you could use work of that caliber almost for free under the name of tribute, how could any competitor possibly keep up? It was the simplest logic of capital.

Yeah, I never expected anything like that to begin with. I just wanted to keep things modest… I never thought it would blow up like this…

With neither the manpower nor the money for anything on that scale, Ssa-yo had only planned to support a Christmas carol production after the audition ended and maintain a mutually beneficial relationship. Pangea TV’s virtual pie was going to grow either way; if he could just plant one foot in as the figurehead of a virtual idol group, the sweet juice would drip down on its own.

Then came an unexpected push—support from his own platform, Pangea TV. Desperate to draw in younger viewers and expand their base, they could not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠afford to miss this chance, and they began aggressively backing Ssa-yo.

At first it felt good. The bigger the support, the more swagger he could put on, and the more he could show off to viewers and contestants alike. But he soon realized it was a double-edged sword. As support grew, so did the number of audition applicants, and the scale of the content ballooned right along with them. VRChat specialists started reaching out first; people even offered to write songs. Viewer expectations had already hit the ceiling—if he tried to scale things back now, he would instantly become a traitor.

Is going all-in the only option left?

With the situation already a runaway train, Ssa-yo clasped his hands and prayed. Please, let enough outstanding talent have applied to soothe this anxiety.

In that moment, one nickname flashed through his mind. The virtual streamer who had shocked him from her very first broadcast, who had captivated every eye with her astonishing talent and charm during their collab content—Seo-a.

A small spark of hope lit in Ssa-yo’s eyes.

Morning of the audition day arrived.

More than two months of waiting—truly a long time. I rose slowly from bed and checked my condition.

“Hoo… good.”

After a full week of careful management, my body was in peak form. My vocal cords produced sound without the slightest pain, and even the joints in my arms and legs moved smoothly—nothing to criticize.

I washed up in high spirits, sat down at the computer, and logged into the FM Community. As expected, Wooga-dol-related posts were devouring every other issue.

The atmosphere was practically a festival. Good. But I had to stay cold-headed.

When everyone else was getting hyped was exactly when opportunity opened up.

I carefully reviewed the self-PR and song I would present at today’s audition, then ate a solid late lunch. Waiting for my turn would almost certainly leave no time for dinner—at best I’d manage a light snack.

Before going live I snuck a look at Pan-beo-gal as well.

Ah, I really shouldn’t do this. Yet somehow I kept logging in without thinking. A habit drilled in over three years, maybe?

“…….”

Enough browsing. No—what exactly had I done to already spawn this kind of thirsty weeb broth?

My head was spinning.

I bolted out of Pan-beo-gal and set up the stream. Before I knew it, it was two in the afternoon—the hour when humans most desperately wanted to watch virtuals.

I went live earlier than anyone, snatching aggro and monopolizing attention. Ssa-yo’s sudden audition announcement. Contestants still scrambling with preparations right up to the day itself because of the short notice. While everyone else was in chaos, I calmly switched on the stream and swallowed the sweet fruit.

Viewer count blasted past four digits in an instant. After a brief wait the screen switched and the broadcast began.

“Seoha, seoha! Everyone’s idol Seo-a appears once again today! Did you all know? Seo-a has lived her entire life for this very day. The virtual idol audition… that is my destiny.”

Today’s stream began.