I May Be a Virtual Youtuber, but I Still Go to Work

There wasn’t much to say about the Tokyo sightseeing.
Just like the last time I came for tech support and consultations, the city itself didn’t feel all that different from Seoul.
The cars were different, traffic moved on the opposite side, and the crosswalk signals made different sounds.

Aside from that, maybe the fact that a lot of their subways ran above ground?
Still, there are definitely spots that remind you you’re in a different country.
One of those spots is Akihabara.

People say it’s not what it used to be since COVID, but it’s still very much a mecca for otakus.
Tons of subculture-related shops.
Maids and butlers trying to lure customers on the street.
People walking around in cosplay, and landmine-tier fashion popping up all over the place.
In Korea, you only really see clusters of cosplayers during events like Mafe. Here, though, you could just feel it—this was definitely the home turf of the hardcore fans.

If there was one thing that bugged me, it was probably the stares.
"Why are people looking at us like that?"
Iyura asked like she couldn’t believe I didn’t know.

“You’re walking around looking that cute and asking me that?”
“This is just a casual autumn outfit.”
“Then it must be because you’re just too cute, Gia.”

I guess the memories of past trips with the boss are all jumbled up in my head now.
In one version, people would glance occasionally in her direction, and that was about it.
In the other, all eyes were constantly on us.
This time was definitely the latter.

It honestly felt like when I walked around with the boss at Mafe while in cosplay. All the stares made it hard not to get flustered.
Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since I thought of myself as cute enough to turn heads.
Was it around this time last year?
Right after I changed, I remember looking in the mirror and thinking I looked like a child actor—and that was pretty much it.

Since then, seeing myself in the mirror every day kind of numbs you to it.
Honestly, sometimes I feel like my rigged model is more attractive than my actual face. Maybe I’ve just never been that into 3D or real-life appearances to begin with.
Anyway, Iyura and I wandered around Akihabara for a couple of hours.
Stopped by a maid café to catch a performance.
Barely escaped after getting surrounded by some overly eager butlers.
A pretty jam-packed (?) Tokyo tour, if I say so myself—then we grabbed a taxi and headed over to Kiri’s place.

As soon as we stepped out, we were surrounded by fancy-looking condos.
“This whole area is where celebrities and rich people live. That’s why the buildings are so nice.”
“I can see that.”

Kiri made her major debut five years ago now. How much money has she earned since then?
She’s got close to ten songs with over 100 million views.
The biggest one is her debut single, and that one’s already past 400 million.

Even if you calculate conservatively—say, 5 won per view—that’s already over 5 billion won.
Then add in the signing bonuses from the label, commercial appearances, and more…
The total might be too big to even properly calculate.

While we were waiting for the elevator, I turned to Iyura and asked,
“You were one of the top utaite in Korea, right?”
“…Why past tense?”

“You’ve kind of… half-retired now, haven’t you?”
“Ugh.”
“What was your peak income? You don’t have to give me exact numbers. I’m just curious.”

Iyura stuck out her lower lip a little and answered,
“My best year… I think I made about 200 million won.”
“Damn.”

This translation is the intellectual property of .
That’s enough for the kids’ custom outfits, 3D models, original songs…
Ugh, I’m drooling.

I gulped and focused on what she was saying.
“But honestly, that was only possible because I released songs with Kiri thanks to our connection. Before that, I made about 50 million a year…? I really got a lot of help from Cat and Kiri.”
It was surprising how close that was to what I made as an office worker.

In the end, if you want to make real money, you need to put out original songs.
The harsh truth is that the views you get from covers don’t necessarily transfer over to your own originals.
Even our girls are working hard to release their own tracks.

But the music market’s cold. Except for Maru, none of them have ever made it onto the YouTube Music chart with a solo song.
“That’s why connections with labels really matter. Once you hit a certain level of skill, everyone’s about the same. Kiri’s in a whole different league even at the top, but if you asked whether she’d be this famous without Saturn Music… I don’t know.”
“And yet you still betrayed Cat?”

“I—I didn’t betray him, okay?! I’m adjusting my schedule every month to release songs right now!”
“If I hadn’t said anything, you would’ve.”
“Haa… I swear, I’m never signing a contract in a rush again…”

Ding.
Fuming, Iyura stepped into the elevator as the doors opened.
I followed her in, and as I turned around, she asked,

“By the way, Gia, do you speak Japanese?”
“I speak both Japanese and English fluently. Like, native level.”
“Then I guess you won’t need a translator. Still, that’s impressive. You’re pretty young, too.”

“I learned Korean and English at the same time growing up.”
“Oh. Are your parents American?”
“Yeah. They still live in the States. I picked up Japanese in high school as my second language, then really studied once I started getting into VTubers.”

“No wonder. Your eyes are blue.”
Oh, right. I forgot about that.
Even I forget I have blue eyes sometimes.

Since I’ve got black hair and wear my bangs long, people usually don’t notice until they get real close.
“Anyway. We’re here. I’ll do my best to smooth things over, so I hope you get everything you’re aiming for.”
I gave Iyura a polite bow and said,

“Just bringing me this far is more than enough. I’ll do my best.”
Asking how much someone like Iyura earns—
Even that was part of planning ahead for the future of Parallel.
The most important thing today is meeting Kiri for the first time.

Time to keep calm and make this go smoothly.
*
Kiri was in a pretty good mood today.

It was a rare chance to meet up with friends again, and more importantly, one of her closest friends—Iyura—had flown all the way to Japan.
Ever since they became friends, they made sure to see each other at least once every two months, either with Iyura visiting Japan or Kiri flying to Korea.
But the past few months had been too packed for both of them to make it happen.

Of course, people are the same wherever you go, but—
If Kiri liked Iyura, there was also someone who personally didn’t.
Just one person in this group.

That would be Shakei, lead vocalist of a J-pop band nearly as popular as Kiri, and just as close to her.
“I still can’t get over it—bringing in some rookie who only just started getting a little attention? What are you thinking?”
Kiri replied as she vigorously shook a cocktail shaker.

“Then next time it’s your turn to host, just don’t invite whoever you don’t like. You remember this one’s my event, right? Try saying crap like ‘you’re not qualified’ like you did with Iyura again, and I swear I’ll crack a wine bottle over your head.”
“…Tch.”
“Sure, she’s a rookie, but she’s growing at an insane pace. According to Iyura, it won’t be long before she catches up to her.”

“Have you even heard her sing?”
“Of course I have. Her voice is interesting. Hehe, I’ve never seen anyone so mechanical before.”
“Mechanical…?”

“See? You haven’t even listened to the song and you’re already drawing lines based on sub count. Just say one dumb thing tonight—I dare you. That wine bottle’s still in play.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll listen to the song now.”
“Oh, you didn’t want her here, right? Then don’t bother.”

“You’re the one who said she was like a machine. Now I’m curious, so don’t stop me.”
Soon, Shakei connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker at the bar and queued up Frenemy for everyone to hear.
He wasn’t just planning to judge it himself—he wanted to hear the opinions of the other famous artists sitting nearby, too.

Everyone already knew Iyura was bringing someone new, but none of them had heard the actual song yet. Naturally, their ears perked up.
[🥔Nutube]
Frenemy ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) – Fan_C x Iyura
Fan_C | 893K subscribers
3.57M views | 4 weeks ago | #Fan_C #Iyura #Frenemy #CAT
As the song played, the listeners' expressions began to shift—Shakei included.

The progression of skill, starting from shaky to polished, was depicted so clearly it really did seem mechanical, just like Kiri had said.
“There’s this critic from Saturn,” Kiri said casually. “He said Fan_C’s part sounded like an AI trained on thousands of singers, generating each level of vocal quality like a simulation. He said he’d believe it wasn’t sung by a real person.”
Everyone sitting at the bar immediately understood how dead-on that review was.

Each part was compartmentalized like it was sealed off behind invisible barriers.
An A-tier, a B-tier, a C-tier… all distinct.
And then came the final chorus—
A duet where she and Iyura howled the lines together.

It gave everyone the same chills they’d felt the first time they heard Iyura sing.
The moment the song ended, Kiri raised her cocktail glass to Shakei with a sly smile.
It was a drink that went perfectly with his bright yellow hair.

“Come on, you think I’d invite someone without giving it a second thought?”
Shakei grabbed his glass with a scowl and muttered,
“Well… she can sing, I’ll give her that. So she must have a crappy personality.”

“Yeah, I guess there are some like that around me too.”
“Kiri, I told you to stop talking like you’re from Kyoto.”
“Sorry, should I just say you’re the jerk artist instead?”

“Tch, I’m just naturally cautious.”
“That’s what we call gatekeeping.”
“Ugh, whatever! I’ll see for myself when she gets here. There’s no way someone who sings like that is a decent human being.”

“True, Shakei, you’re exactly like that.”
“Oh, come on.”
Just then—jingle jingle.

The wind chime Kiri had hung near the entrance rang softly.
Everyone at the bar turned to look toward the front door.
There stood the familiar figure of Iyura—and next to her…

“…? Who’s this kid?”
A ridiculously pretty little girl stomped confidently into the room.
She’s an adult, right? Just… baby-faced?
Can you even bring someone like that to a drinking party?

As everyone silently debated this among themselves—
Magia, with the poise of a local, introduced herself in fluent Japanese.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Fan_C, a Korean utaite. It’s an honor to meet you.”

As she stood perfectly composed in front of them, Shakei suddenly exploded.
“めっちゃ可愛いじゃねーか!! (She’s freaking adorable—!!)”