Anima Musica - Ignition
“Hmm, the announcement went smoothly… I suppose it’ll be fine?”
“What’s got you so worried?”
Myeong-yun wasn’t particularly curious, but he asked anyway. He already knew exactly what Lee Sang-hyun was fretting over. It was bound to be another trivial concern, just as he expected.
And indeed, it was.
“…BurnOnFire. Every other team is fielding a full squad, but you’re going solo. That’s not going to be a problem, right? You can still win?”
“We’ll only know once we’re in the arena.”
The world was vast. There might yet be someone who surpassed him. Myeong-yun occasionally entertained the thought, yet in truth, he doubted anyone would surpass him for decades to come. If such a person existed, they would have already made their mark.
“The game company’s being oddly accommodating, allowing a solo entry. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have bothered participating.”
“They probably figured one person wouldn’t affect the overall proceedings much.”
That assessment was accurate. When Deep Blue had scouted Myeong-yun, they had never encountered such a counter-proposal before, yet they judged that a single participant would not significantly impact the game. No matter how exceptional Myeong-yun’s physical reflexes were, he could not survive alone in a battlefield riddled with gunfire. Therefore, Myeong-yun and Lee Sang-hyun intended to use this BurnOnFire as their decisive statement.
Who was the strongest in the current virtual industry? Who possessed the most transcendent physical prowess in the world? They would make the existence of the Heavenly Demon Myeong-yun and the Heavenly Demon Cult unmistakably clear to every participating VTuber, every game company executive, and viewers across the globe.
Myeong-yun found Lee Sang-hyun’s planning impressive. To think he had proposed a solo entry as a counter-offer. Originally they had considered a standard team entry, but after brief deliberation, Lee Sang-hyun had pressured the company with the ultimatum that they would withdraw unless granted solo participation. The organizers had accepted the condition, resulting in this unprecedented BurnOnFire featuring 101 players.
“I’ll compile a list of all the VTubers rumored to be participating who have strong physical stats. Just in case.”
“Good. I appreciate it.”
Myeong-yun’s lips curved slightly upward. Since signing with Yeonamdang, Lee Sang-hyun had visibly matured. He had always been capable, but now he carried genuine responsibility, embodying the role of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s Chief Strategist. Watching him grow was genuinely satisfying, so Myeong-yun spoke.
“The stream ran longer than expected. Shall we go eat something?”
“Oh, really? Then let’s hit the chicken place up ahead—no, wait, pizza tonight. It feels like a pizza day.”
“As you wish. Get dressed.”
Just as the two were about to head to the pizza shop near the house, Myeong-yun’s mother, Kim Seon-yeong, knocked on the door and called out.
“Boys, are you done streaming? I ordered pizza—want some?”
“…Wow, perfect timing. Yes, Aunt! We’ll eat!”
“She must have been watching the stream.”
Otherwise, the timing would not have been so impeccable. Myeong-yun turned to Lee Sang-hyun.
“Let’s ask her about it this time.”
“…Ah, that? All right.”
Kim Seon-yeong laid out the delivered pizzas on the table, congratulating them on their hard work. One was topped with chili shrimp and sweet potato mousse; the other was bulgogi pizza, a flavor with universal appeal. There was no pineapple pizza. Both had cheese-stuffed crusts.
“Eat plenty.”
Two large pizzas might have seemed insufficient for two growing young men, but Kim Seon-yeong had wisely ordered several sides as well: the quintessential cheese oven spaghetti and multiple orders of cheese sticks.
Myeong-yun and Lee Sang-hyun could barely contain their excitement at the feast before them.
“Thank you for the meal!”
“Thank you for the meal.”
When they lifted their first slices, the cheese stretched in long, enticing strands. The generous toppings atop them only heightened their appetites. They devoured slice after slice, the salty cheese melding with the spicy tomato sauce beneath, the toppings and herbs adding layers of flavor that further stimulated their hunger. Slice after slice vanished at an alarming rate.
Kim Seon-yeong watched the two boys eat with such hearty appetites and smiled warmly.
“Yun, your stream was excellent. I was truly surprised. I never imagined you would become a VTuber in that manner.”
“I was surprised too. Who would have thought a guy who acted like a hundred-year-old grandpa would suddenly beg to become a VTuber?”
“You never showed much desire to pursue anything when you were younger.”
Kim Seon-yeong covered her mouth and laughed aloud. A faintly wistful expression crossed her face, as though recalling the past.
“By the way, the Heavenly Demon? Whose idea was that concept?”
“It was mine.”
“You always loved wuxia novels as a child, so you chose the Heavenly Demon theme. How fun. When I was young, who was popular again? Ah, yes, the Namgung clan was quite the rage back then.”
Kim Seon-yeong naturally began recounting her own days as a VTuber. She knew Myeong-yun had already told Lee Sang-hyun about her past, and sharing stories was part of her profession. Perhaps the previous incident had cleared the air between them, for the words flowed easily.
“So, during that large-scale event, our team pulled off a dramatic comeback victory. I wonder how everyone is doing now. I find myself missing those days a little.”
While eating pizza, they listened to her stories of the past. She had clearly been genuinely happy then—living as Anima Musica, the virtual songstress who sang of love, nourished by the support and affection of her fans, interacting with countless VTubers and building herself up.
“I should have kept some contact information. I was too young back then and cut ties with everyone.”
Myeong-yun, who had been listening attentively while eating, fell silent for a moment. If Kim Seon-yeong was deeply reminiscing about that time, now was the right moment to broach the subject. Lee Sang-hyun also sensed the shift in atmosphere and stopped responding.
Myeong-yun spoke.
“Mother, have you ever considered returning?”
“What?”
“I asked whether you have considered returning as Anima Musica.”
“You’re not joking, are you? It’s been years—why would I return now~”
Kim Seon-yeong laughed lightly. A great deal of time had passed—time in which Myeong-yun had grown, and time she had spent with her husband, Myeong Ju-won. She knew well that she could never return to those days.
Myeong-yun took out his smartphone and showed her the Anima Musica fan café.
“There are still people waiting for you, Mother.”
Kim Seon-yeong gazed at the screen. For thousands of days, people had been waiting for her return—not just one, but many, updating their posts day after day, praying for her comeback. Some who had been students, some in their twenties, now adults with families of their own, still hoped for Anima Musica’s return.
“……”
Kim Seon-yeong could not speak. She had tried to forget that time, yet the knowledge that her fans had been waiting all along overwhelmed her with emotion. She pressed her lips together and let tears fall.
Lee Sang-hyun quietly rose and retreated to his room. Myeong-yun waited until her tears subsided a little before speaking again, gently taking her hand.
“I understand how heavy it is to bear the expectations of so many. I also understand how much you miss them. If you refuse, I will not press the matter further.”
“Yun……”
At his words, Kim Seon-yeong wept again. When had her once-small son grown so much? The child she had always feared would leave had now grown, earned money, and was worrying about his mother. An indescribable storm of emotion surged within her. After a moment, she cautiously opened her mouth.
“…But I can’t go back to that time. My voice has changed a little, and I’ve aged considerably… There’s also the matter of avatar copyrights.”
“I believe I can resolve that issue. I will contact Yeonamdang and inquire whether cooperation with Parallel Live is possible.”
“…Truly?”
“It should be feasible. Yeonamdang employs many capable individuals. I wish for your happiness, Mother. I do not want you to carry the lingering regrets of the past in your heart.”
Kim Seon-yeong slowly nodded. She had made her decision. If her son was willing to go this far for her, then she too should be of some help. Considering the influence Anima Musica once wielded, her return would generate considerable buzz. Though her physical condition meant it would likely be temporary, the return of Anima Musica—and the relationship between the Heavenly Demon Myeong-yun and Anima Musica—would undoubtedly send shockwaves through the virtual industry. It would serve as a form of noise marketing. Even in the past, broadcasts featuring a VTuber’s mother had performed remarkably well.
Having stopped crying, Kim Seon-yeong wiped the tear tracks from her face with her sleeve, her eyes now sparkling. Myeong-yun could see the light shining within them—the same brilliance that had defined Anima Musica in her prime. It was the gaze of someone casting off the dust of the past and preparing to soar once more.
She spoke.
“All right. Then I suppose I should first book some vocal training nearby. I won’t be able to embody the Anima Musica of those days with my current state.”
“A wise decision, Mother.”
“I’ll ask your father to draw a few illustrations as well.”
Kim Seon-yeong smiled brightly. This was the radiance that had captivated Myeong Ju-won. She was truly a beautiful person.
Sensing that the conversation had reached a natural conclusion, Lee Sang-hyun slipped back into the room and took his seat.
“When would be a good date? Since it’s the return of a legend, shouldn’t we make it grand?”
“It will take some time to regain my old skill level. Perhaps a month or two? We can finalize the procedures by then.”
“I’ll assist in every way I can! Watching Anima Musica’s live performance from the front row is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—we must prepare perfectly!”
“Rushing may only lead to mistakes.”
Myeong-yun chuckled softly, reining in the eager Lee Sang-hyun. Kim Seon-yeong watched the two of them and smiled with genuine warmth.
Thus, the return of the old legend was decided—the virtual songstress Anima Musica, who had once sold out the Gocheok Sky Dome and drawn approximately three hundred thousand concurrent viewers to her online live concert, would make her comeback.