Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Members Get Too Immersed in RP
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My assets consisted of a 10 million won deposit for monthly rent, 3 million in the bank, and a single motorcycle. That was everything.
And I'd just sold that motorcycle secondhand for 2 million won.
"Ha... What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
I was a delivery rider.
A food delivery guy on a motorcycle.
It wasn't a job I'd chosen out of love.
I'd just naturally ended up there because of my circumstances.
Orphanage kids get tossed into society at high school graduation age with a 5 million won settlement payout.
Luckily, I had it better than most.
A senior who'd left before me passed down their motorcycle, letting me start delivery work right away.
I worked my ass off, bought my own bike, and passed it on to a junior later.
Was this what they called a virtuous cycle?
Delivery riding isn't a job I'd recommend to anyone, but for an orphanage grad, it's usually better than the alternatives.
This was definitely good.
Or had been.
Recently, I'd nearly gotten crushed under a truck, turning my guts to mush. The trauma left me unable to ride a motorcycle anymore.
It felt like being stark naked—like climbing into a car without a roof made my whole body tremble.
In the end, I couldn't do delivery work any longer.
So I sold the bike.
What the hell was I supposed to live on now?
"Guess it's gotta be night gigs."
I'd had dreams, sure.
But I wasn't in a position to chase them.
So face reality.
Anyone over 19 is a legal adult anyway.
I'd always had to sort out my own shit, just like always.
No need to wallow in self-pity.
For an orphan, this was pretty decent.
Hell, I even had time for hobbies.
🎵 Video Title "16 Days With You" cover by Altair Views: 16 | 9 days ago
💬 Comments (1) — Altair Great cover! Your voice is amazing. Any plans to release an original song? "Those grapes are definitely sour."
I'd dreamed of being a singer once.
But I lacked the talent to make it happen.
Out of lingering regret, I'd uploaded cover song videos online, but there'd been no real response.
Just average hobbyist stuff.
I'd never really tried, given up in advance, then clung to it anyway.
I hated myself for it, but what could I do?
Everyone's just thrown into this world.
Reply written:
— Altair ↳ Reply Thanks for listening! No plans for an original right now lol. I posted the reply and went to boil some ramen.
In that short time, another reply had popped up.
— Altair ↳ Reply No interest in pro debut? If you are, please get in touch. Altair, you're the kind of talent that has to release originals! I guarantee it! I'd figured it was just some casual praise, cheer, or curiosity.
But suddenly, business talk?
What the hell did they see in a buried track with just 16 views?
The musicality, obviously.
What else would you see in a song? Silly question.
My heart fluttered for a second, then sank.
Scam, probably.
Weird as hell.
If I had real talent, people would've noticed by now.
Just some mosquito sucking cash from naive kids.
'An original song?'
A song that's mine, not someone else's.
I didn't think I could make it as a singer.
Didn't believe I had that kind of talent or luck.
But couldn't I at least have the memory of trying once?
I could tell if it was a scam after chatting a bit.
I was young, but my life experience was plenty.
Different from cozy homebodies.
Half-wild road warrior type.
Scams were easy to spot.
Before I knew it, I'd swapped contacts with this shady stranger and even set up a meeting.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ And the next morning, I was a woman.
All my clothes and old photos had changed to match a life lived as a woman, with zero sense of wrongness. It felt like I'd dreamed I was a man as some butterfly.
But which woman jumps straight into delivery riding after leaving the orphanage?
And what kind of senior passes a motorcycle to a girl like that?
The evidence I was a guy? Just my memories and the circumstantial proof of my job history. Two things.
Or three, counting how this beauty had zero romantic troubles.
The stranger in the mirror was stunningly gorgeous.
— Message Don't forget our 2 PM meetup today—be there! Amid the daze, a message came from the person I'd chatted with via video comments yesterday and somehow scheduled a meeting with.
In a situation like this, could I even go outside?
Yeah, seemed like I could.
There's a saying: "blood-soaked."
Not covered in blood.
Thrown into a world of blood—meaning we're hurled into life against our will, full of strife.
I'd been flung harder than most, a bit battered for it.
So I took weird shit in stride. This world's full of oddities.
Honestly, closer to resignation.
What can you do?
Refuse to accept your parents are gone, and poof—they appear?
'Funny how my name stayed the same amid all this.'
My birthday's July 7th.
Probably not my real birthdate—just when I arrived at the orphanage.
My name's Gyeon-u.
From Tanabata, the day I showed up.
Surname Jang, from the director.
Even as a woman, I was still Jang Gyeon-u.
Thank god they didn't rename me something girly.
Was it really? Could be evidence number four.
Anyway, long story short: I still had to keep living.
Just in case, I checked my old covers—damn, that voice was good.
Was this how I'd become a singer and start Act 2 of my life?
"Do you know what a Vtuber is?"
It was a scam.
Original song, my ass!
Why the hell a Vtuber, not a singer?!
"I know what it is, but isn't this a scam?"
"Have I lied even once?"
"Original song screams singer—who thinks Vtuber?"
"Ta-da! Not Vtuber—Virtual Idol!"
Wordplay bullshit.
Virtual Idol.
Way closer to streamer than singer.
I wanted to be a singer, not a broadcaster.
"I'm outta here."
"I fell for your voice!"
Her booming voice made everyone in the cafe stare at us.
"Be with me forever!"
"Oh my goodness."
"Kids these days are wild."
What the fuck! Those middle-aged aunties think you're a crazy lesbian!
And I'm embarrassed as the one "confessed" to.
"Let's move. Private room, or at least a booth..."
"Changed your mind about talking more?!"
Why hadn't I just gone home?
One, it was the first time anyone said they needed me.
Two, she was drop-dead gorgeous.
The woman calling herself Kim Mi-myo—her business card confirmed it was her real name.
Petite, doll-like, with such an exotic look her silver hair blurred the line between dye and natural.
'We moved from one cafe... to another cafe.'
The first place had open tables everywhere.
This one had booths partitioning each space.
Got a free Americano last time, but two coffees in a row? Nah. Something sweet this time...
'Successful life?'
Kim Mi-myo didn't look that old no matter how I squinted.
My age at most, generously.
Already a company president?
Not some big name, sure.
World Live Entertainment? What kinda name was that—not exactly "three meals a day."
First I'd heard of it.
But I'd googled to check for scam vibes: legit registered company.
7 employees.
Might be my uneducated bias, but doesn't "president" sound impressive?
Or could anyone just start a company?
Could I dive in and become one?
Never thought about that angle.
"Don't you want to share your singing with as many people as possible?"
Kim Mi-myo's sales pitch kicked off out of nowhere.
Virtual Idol prospects. World Live Entertainment's goals.
100 million subscribers. Global superstar?
No joke?
Hidden camera prank maybe?
"This isn't some hidden cam content, right? If there's a camera, come out."
"I'm 100% serious!"
Not some pirate captain recruiting for the One Piece.
"Salary?"
"3 million."
"Deal."
And just like that, we had a deal.