Drinking Mukbang
Before the stream went live, the four of us gathered on Discord for about half an hour to roughly align on a script.
That didn't mean we were going to run the whole broadcast like a rigged game of Go-Stop, every beat planned in advance. Viewers these days were far too sharp for that. This was a world crawling with veterans who'd been watching streams for over a decade. For rookies like us to even dream of fooling those veterans would only backfire. A story forced into shape tended to get dismissed as inauthentic anyway.
Still, we met ahead of time for two reasons: to guard against the kind of slip-ups that could land us in trouble, and to lock down at least a basic skeleton for how the content would flow. It was a drinking mukbang, so alcohol was going to be involved—which meant the odds of a mistake were higher than usual no matter what. Talking through the things we needed to watch out for beforehand was how we lowered the chance of a disaster.
The same logic applied to setting a basic framework. Unless all four of us had Yoo Jae-suk-level banter or were gods of talk content, dead air and awkward stretches were inevitable once things got rolling. A little prep work was how we minimized those gaps. Everything else, we agreed to leave free and up to each of us—so the audience would have no reason to doubt our authenticity.
Today's content had been Miho's idea to begin with, and since we wanted to push her numbers as hard as possible, we'd decided only she would go live. At the end of every month they selected Best Streamers, and both Miho and I had just barely met the application requirements.
• Stream time of 500 hours or more
• 500 or more loyal viewers
• At least 10 broadcast days within the past month
• No suspension record within the past 3 months
• Completion of 5 or more Streamer Online Education courses
Lucy and Mayo had fallen short on the stream-time requirement, unfortunately, so they'd have to wait for next month. Miho, though—she'd streamed with a vengeance, scraping just enough hours to clear the bar.
"I'm thirty now. Gotta earn every last won I can. You know how much the fee rate improves once you're a Best Streamer."
"……."
It was such a brutally practical reason that it actually hurt a little. I'd debuted on Pangea TV more than a month ahead of the other crew members, so my stream hours had been comfortable from the start. If I'd ground it out the way Miho had, I probably could have made it last month too. I'd held back for the sake of my throat, though—worried that pushing too hard would wreck my voice.
I'm basically a lock, if I'm being honest……
Meeting every minimum requirement got you a base score of 75, and from there they ranked applicants by average concurrent viewers, loyal viewers, stream hours, and so on, doling out points on a sliding scale. As the virtual streamer currently sitting at number one in average viewers and number two in loyal viewers, I was as good as already accepted. That was exactly why I wanted to push Miho hard this time. She could pick up bonus points on stream hours, but when it came to average concurrent viewers and loyal viewers, she had some serious competition to worry about.
I really hope the viewer count hits well today.
Carrying that quiet hope, the stream began.
The first thing on screen was a VRChat map. A late-winter boulevard, darkness broken only by streetlamps spaced far apart. Beneath the farthest lamp in the frame, Miho stepped into view—soft white hair, a pair of cute fox ears peeking up from the top of her head. She cupped both hands in front of her face, blew a little "hoo-hoo" of warm breath into them as if her fingers were freezing, and walked forward at an unhurried pace. Even in this cold, she wasn't about to skip the charm offensive: a short skirt and the long, clean lines of her legs beneath it made quite the impression.
"Unnie, wait up!"
The one calling after her was Mayo. Silver hair that just brushed her shoulders, coated on top with a sticky slick of mayonnaise. She clearly had zero tolerance for the cold—she'd wrapped herself head to toe in a scarf and a long padded coat.
"Alright, hurry up."
"But Unnie, aren't you freezing dressed like that? I heard your joints start aching once you get older."
"……."
Miho's age was still private, but it was public knowledge that she was older than Lucy. Viewers had a habit of fishing for age-related jokes and laugh points around her, and Miho didn't get overly sensitive about it—sometimes she even leaned into it and made herself the punching bag on purpose. Moments like that made it clear she had real talent for streaming. A woman's age was a genuinely touchy subject, and watching her grit her teeth and endure it for the sake of a successful broadcast said a lot.
"Our Mayo, with mayonnaise still wet on her head…… you're so cute. Come on, let's go."
"Uh—huh? Unnie, why are you suddenly putting your arm around my—mmph!"
Miho's avatar casually locked an arm around Mayo's neck and dragged her forward. It was virtual, so nothing was actually happening in real life—but Mayo sold the reaction so convincingly that the bit landed perfectly. The chat window erupted in laughter. Meanwhile, the tent of a pojangmacha appeared ahead of Miho and Mayo.
"Seo-a and Lucy might already be there. Let's head in."
"I'm telling the other unnies. You put the adorable maknae in a headlock."
Grumbling Mayo in tow, they stepped through the tent flap. I'd been secretly monitoring Miho's stream from my phone, and Lucy and I stood up right on cue to welcome them.
"Unnie Miho and Mayo are a little late. We got here first and already ordered. Come on, sit over here."
Unlike the bleak scenery outside, the interior of the tent glowed with a cozy warmth. Of course, this was VRChat, not reality—you couldn't actually feel the heat—but the warm color palette and the stove glowing red at the center of the tent sold the mood completely.
"Ahh! A pojangmacha has to have plastic chairs and tables. This is the right vibe."
"Unnie Miho, that is such an old-man thing to say."
"Shut it!"
All four of us took our seats. A male avatar who looked uncannily like the actor Ma Dong-seok stepped out from a corner to take our order.
"What do you mean marrying age?! That guy is a manager who came to help out today."
"Unnie, if you get that defensive it just makes you look guilty. Calm down and let's order. Lucy Unnie first?"
"Okay. I'll just have a Cass. Chicken feet for the side is plenty."
With that, the screen cut for a moment. What the viewers saw was a 500ml can of Cass and a photo of chicken feet sitting just below a keyboard that had been nudged aside. It was a picture Lucy had taken before the content started and sent over to Miho.
Sneaky little viewers, every last one of them. Obsessed with the Red Pill, trying every trick in the book—but the photos we'd sent Miho had already been inspected by all of us multiple times. There wasn't a single scrap of Red Pill material in any of them.
"I'll go with Terra and fried chicken."
This time it was my photo. Same as Lucy's—a 500ml can of Terra and a shot of mouthwatering fried chicken filled the viewers' screens. Chat was already flooding with people who couldn't hold out and were placing delivery orders on the spot.
"I'm going with my beloved Chamisul and yellowtail sashimi. Y'all know, right? Yellowtail is at its best in winter."
The moment Chamisul appeared alongside a bowl piled high with gorgeous yellowtail sashimi, the foodies in chat lost their minds. I had to admit the combo was tempting—but I still had no idea what my new body's alcohol tolerance was, so soju was off the table for now. Maybe I'd try it on the next day off?
While I was nursing that little regret, Mayo's menu finally dropped.
"I'm doing Heineken and sweet-and-sour pork!"
"Hey! Where does a kid with mayonnaise still wet on her head get off trying to drink? You're gonna get in real trouble!"
"Tch! Fine—Fanta Pineapple and sweet-and-sour pork!"
Of course it had been a Mayo bit. The photo she'd sent ahead only had Fanta in it—no beer can anywhere. That photo, however, held something guaranteed to make the viewers lose their minds.
Mayo, dunking her sweet-and-sour pork straight into a tub of mayonnaise sauce. Our content was chaos from the very first second.