Drinking Mukbang (2)
The structure of the content Miho had brought was simple.
She would put prepared questions or prompts in front of the guests and listen, honestly, to their experiences and thoughts on each one.
Still, if a topic landed too serious without any safety net, the mood would slide straight into dead air—so a pre-check was essential. At the very least, the questions and prompts had to be something that could pull a broadcast-worthy angle. That was exactly why we had written a script in advance: a process of filtering out anything too sensitive or likely to fall flat.
After that screening, the first question that came up was this:
"First question. The leader of the V-Live crew—do you think we chose well? Please share your honest thoughts. We'll start with Lucy."
"Huh? Wait, why me first… Alright."
Lucy's braided-hair avatar turned toward us. Hair that caught a faint brown in the light, dark eyes—she opened her mouth, fully displaying that Eastern beauty that still felt a little unfamiliar in the virtual scene.
"I think we chose perfectly. Our leader Seo-a. She's really working so hard. Even though her own streams must keep her busy, she's always coordinating schedules, prepping meetings, and even monitoring the crew's broadcasts and giving feedback. Viewers truly have no idea. That Seo-a puts in this much effort even after the stream is off."
"I agree with Lucy, because something like this happened. Since I stream from late night into the early morning, the other crew members are usually asleep—but Seo-a left me a message at that hour saying she'd watched the stream and was giving feedback. I was genuinely moved."
"Hey. Is today's content designed to make me cringe so hard I bail? Ahem. Everyone, let's keep it reasonable."
"Yeah. Instead of praising Unnie Seo-a, you should all be praising me. I hit Platinum 3 two days ago. That means I'm the highest rank in the whole crew now!"
This damn LoL-addicted brat.
In the end, Mayo, who had said something completely unrelated to the topic, had to drink the penalty. Or rather, in Mayo's case, should it be called a penalty beverage?
"Kyaaah! That's the stuff. Crunch crunch."
"……."
The sound of her gulping Fanta and chewing sweet-and-sour pork carried clearly through the mic, and the mental image of that pork dunked in mayonnaise sauce kept flashing in my head, dealing psychic damage. Ugh, how do you even put sweet-and-sour pork in mayo…
Miho must have pictured something similar—she frowned and quickly moved on to the next question.
"Second question. This one might be a little sensitive, but for the viewers' 'right to know,' please answer honestly. Who among the crew members do you think has the biggest chest size?!"
"What!"
"Huk!"
"Kyaak!"
The first question had been a warm-up, you idiots.
The spicy run was starting.
In streaming, "heat level" was a truly delicate question.
Push it too high and you left a vulgar impression; pull it too low and people called you a ten-Confucian scholar or a Joseon-era broadcast. As I always said, keeping the proper "line" was what mattered. The problem was that holding that line was never easy.
So before we started the content, we had discussed it in advance. This was a "drinking mukbang," after all—didn't we need at least a few higher-heat questions?
Miho especially insisted on that. She wanted to keep running this content long-term, and if the first episode locked in too much of a ten-Confucian-scholar image, scrubbing it off later would be brutal.
The opposition was Lucy. A Confucian girl who seemed born with ten-Confucian-scholar energy already installed. Still, she had improved a lot compared to before. Pre-regression, she would have refused a drinking mukbang outright. The people around her must have been a big influence. Pre-regression she had been under V-mellodi but basically streamed alone; now she mixed with us constantly. Especially while I had been busy with the Wooga-dol audition, she had spent a lot of time with Miho. So she had changed a great deal—but the resistance was still there, that was also true!
So I took the middle ground and mediated between the two of them.
"Neither of you is wrong. Let's just understand that you're 'different.'"
No need to persuade each other or force a change. There was no clear right answer when it came to "heat level." We just had to control it so neither extreme went overboard.
"I think both unnies should just lean into your own concepts. That'll probably make for a more fun picture."
That prediction of mine landed dead-on.
"Honestly, I think Lucy's the biggest. The ones who act all demure like that are usually the real deal."
"Wh-what, wh-wh-what shameless thing are you saying. I-I don't have anything like that."
The avatar's face stayed calm, but just from the voice you could tell the face underneath had gone tomato-red. Viewers exploded laughing at Lucy's reaction and egged Miho on to be even more wicked.
"Hmph! The real impressive one is me, what are you all even talking about. You wanna know how impressive I am…"
"Kids, shh. Let's talk after your ID comes out."
"Uwaat! Th-this is the leader's tyranny! Guarantee freedom of the press!"
I signaled Miho and forcibly muted Mayo's voice. Ugh! What kind of bomb declaration was this minor about to drop.
And then, suddenly, curiosity hit me. Without thinking, my hand drifted downward.
Squish—!
"Mm! Come to think of it, what cup was I again. Last time I bought underwear it was 75D, right?"
Back in the early days after my gender change, those devilish breasts had made me reach for them every spare second like shrimp chips. The moment attention drifted that way again after so long, I muttered to myself without meaning to.
The problem was that the mic was live—and internet broadcasting was live.
Without meaning to, I had pulled maximum aggro.
Miho, who had been diligently running the content, shot me a resentful look from across the table. Ahem. I hadn't meant to do this either.
We barely managed to settle the mood, and then the third and fourth questions followed. The topics were well distributed—questions about individual crew members, the direction our crew should take going forward, content we wanted to try, and so on. It was a solid arrangement that could fully showcase each crew member's charm to the viewers while also answering curiosity about V-Live's future.
HalfCamManiac has been muted for 10 minutes.
Still, the unexpected aggro had caused a bit of trouble.
"Hoo! Drinking after so long really is nice. With such good people… and the viewers too."
The content was gradually reaching its end. Just as Miho had said, it was genuinely solid content. Covering the penalty of not turning on cam—so a drinking mukbang wouldn't show anything—by running it on a VRChat map had been a really nice choice. The avatars holding VRC food and beer and acting out eating and drinking gave viewers immersion. The plot was good too: a simple setup where you put a few topics on the table and could talk honestly with the guests. Taking live questions from viewers midstream to raise participation also looked smart.
If we just pick the guests well, this is content that can hit every single time.
I had been worried that Miho, compared to Lucy and Mayo, didn't have her own "weapon"—but if this content kept thriving going forward, that worry could be set aside.
"Alright, then as we wrap up, let's clink one last glass with energy."
"Cheers!"
"Everyone, cheers!"
"Everyone, great work."
I downed the last glass cleanly and checked the chat. Most of the messages were about how it was a shame it ended so early, plus praise that today's content had been excellent.
After the stream ended, Miho was buzzing with excitement and posted today's broadcast data in the group chat.
Peak concurrent viewers: 2,457. Candy donations: 6,788.
By my standards it wasn't that huge, but for Miho it was a personal best. This would be a real help toward challenging for Best Streamer this month.
At some point Lucy had started treating Mayo like a little kid. And Mayo, while grumbling in her own way, seemed to kind of like that treatment.
V-Live was clearly moving in a good direction.
I was sure of it.