Usahime Karin Becomes a VTuber!

“The chicken got cold….”  

After finally escaping countless possessions and returning to the modern era, my new life had begun.  

It was my first Christmas in Japan, but…  

Unfortunately, the chicken before me had gone completely cold.  

Yeah. Okay. I get it.  

It’s Christmas, so there must have been a ton of orders.  

Because of that, the delivery guy probably stuffed four or five whole chickens into his bike, and with today being what it is, the traffic must have been a nightmare.  

In the end, no matter how many heat packs they crammed in, by the time the last deliveries were made, some of them were bound to get cold. I understand.  

But…  

Why did I have to be the one getting that last, cold delivery?!  

“This is the first chicken I’ve had in forever….”  

At this rate, even my excitement was bound to cool off along with the chicken.  

Should I call and complain? I thought about it, but the delivery had already taken long enough.  

Waiting for a new order while resisting the urge to eat just felt unbearable with how hungry I was.  

So I decided to compromise, opened the box, and took a bite of a drumstick. As soon as I sank my teeth in, the mixture of oil and meat juices burst in my mouth.  

It was delicious.  

Even cold, chicken was still chicken.  

Imagining how amazing it would have tasted if it were still warm made me emotional for no reason.  

If it had been, this really could have been the best Christmas ever….  

Seriously, this is so frustrating….  

Life is so unfair.  

“Phew….”  

Even while grumbling, I still devoured every last piece without leaving a single crumb.  

I wondered if my appetite had decreased after becoming like this, but that was an unnecessary worry.  

If anything, ever since I returned to this world, my taste buds had fully recovered, and eating something delicious turned me into a bottomless pit—almost like a black hole.  

“I can’t even remember the last time I felt this blissfully full….”  

I had wandered through countless game worlds.  

Of course, it wasn’t just games—I had been trapped in single-room chat spaces or mysterious recording studios too—but for the most part, it was games.  

When I cleared one world, I moved on to the next. After clearing that, I’d move on to another. The cycle repeated endlessly for what felt like hundreds of years.  

At first, I had no idea how the next world was decided—there was no pattern or rule I could discern.  

But as time went on, I came to a conclusion.  

I was being possessed, one by one, by the broadcasts of my beloved Oshi.  

Now, what exactly is an ‘Oshi’?  

In Japanese, ‘Oshi’ refers to the thing or person you love the most.  

It’s similar to the Korean term for ‘ultimate bias.’  

So, what was it that I loved so much?  

No need to hide it—it was VTubers.  

Virtual entertainers who wore digital avatars, combining the word ‘virtual’ with a well-known video platform’s name.  

Since I was being possessed by every single one of their broadcasts—whether it was an hour-long stream or several hours of gameplay, music, or chatting—  

Of course, I ended up being stuck in this for hundreds of years…!  

Damn it….  

It didn’t take long for my love to turn into hatred.  

Imagine being trapped in a tiny, one-square-meter room, forced to chat and sing on repeat for hundreds of years.  

You think you’d stay sane?  

That was the least of my problems. Just when I’d finally beaten a game, it would start all over again.  

And whenever a new game appeared, it was always some bizarre, borderline unplayable mess!  

Every time I thought, ‘Did I finally finish it?’ despair would strike again, showing me the same all-too-familiar scenery.  

There were moments when I nearly lost my mind.  

Or maybe, I had already lost it a long time ago.  

Bang, bang, bang—!  

“…It’s finally here.”  

As soon as I finished my meal, a loud pounding echoed through my room.  

I didn’t even need to check to know who it was.  

There was only one person who would knock like that.  

“Hey, Shibuya! You bastard! What did you do this time?!”  

He worked for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department… but his exact rank? No idea.  

His name was…  

…  

Uh… whatever. I don’t remember.  

Anyway, he was a cop. One I saw way too often.  

“Open this door, now!”  

“Sigh….”  

So…  

Why did the police come to my house?  

“So annoying….”  

Apparently, when I was at my part-time job earlier today, pouring alcohol over the shiny bald head of a creepy old pervert is considered a two-star crime in this world.  

***  

“Oh, Mr. Pervert. How’s your head?”  

“Don’t talk to the victim. Just sit quietly over there.”  

“Hah? I’m the victim here!?”  

Victim? That bald guy?  

I was the real victim, not him.  

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Just sit down for now, okay? Do me a favor.”  

“Tch….”  

Since we’ve known each other for so long, the police officer who used to speak to me formally now treats me like some bratty daughter.  

I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, but when interrogations drag on, he sometimes sighs deeply and orders me a rice bowl, so I just take it as a silver lining.  

I’m already struggling to make a living thanks to getting sent back to the wrong coordinates.  

Saving a meal’s worth of money is a big deal.  

“Um….”  

It wasn’t the cop or me who finally broke the silence.  

It was the perverted bald-headed perpetrator.  

“Does this girl come to the police station often?”  

“What? ……Well….”  

Hearing that shameless question, the police officer hesitated, unable to deny it outright.  

That hesitation alone was basically an admission.  

Seeing that, the bald guy’s lips curled up slightly, as if he already saw himself winning this argument.  

This bastard… He’s trying to pull some obvious trick.  

Too bad for him—our officer here isn’t dumb enough to fall for such one-dimensional gaslighting.  

You perverted bastard!  

Don’t underestimate Japan’s law enforcement!  

“If she’s that much of a troublemaker… then isn’t this case already settled?”  

“Sigh… Yes, I understand what you’re trying to say, but… we still have to hear both sides. That’s just procedure….”  

Huh? Officer? Why are you being so passive?  

Wait a sec… I don’t think I can trust the Japanese police at all!?  

“Don’t give me that crap, you damn baldie! You were groping my thigh in the store, acting all sneaky! And don’t think I didn’t notice you staring holes into my chest with those pervy eyes!”  

“…Is that true?”  

At the mere mention of harassment, the officer’s gaze turned sharp.  

The bald guy sputtered out excuses, but they were weak. Of course, they were—because he did do it.  

And, baldie, you’re making one huge mistake.  

Forget whether it’s true or not. In modern society, a middle-aged man like you has no chance of winning against a high school girl.  

Let this be a lesson.  

In a past life, this tactic wouldn’t have worked….  

But in this life, with my new body as a beautiful girl, I’m absolutely invincible.  

“N-No, listen to me! The place I went to was that kind of shop in the first place! I paid money for a legitimate service—how is that a crime? Officer, don’t you agree?”  

“…I hear you. But, sir, tell me—what kind of establishment legally allows the harassment of a middle school girl…?”  

“What? Middle sch—?”  

“A maid café is not a brothel, you goddamn octopus-head!”  

“…….”  

For some reason, the officer suddenly bowed his head and pressed his hands together between his brows, as if in prayer.  

He looked exactly like someone who had just reached the peak of exhaustion.  

What’s with him? Is his headache that bad?  

Well, considering how late he works, he probably is exhausted.  

“Shibuya-san.”  

“…Y-Yes?”  

Huh? Why’s he suddenly using formal speech…? This feels ominous.  

“A maid café?”  

“Ah~… Well… I got fired from my last job, so….”  

For the record, there’s an unspoken rule that all maid café employees are ‘seventeen forever,’ but in reality, they’re all adults.  

The reason is simple. If a situation like this ever comes up, it would cause all sorts of problems, so underage workers are never hired.  

So then, how was I, legally registered as a fifteen-year-old minor, able to work at a maid café?  

“So. Did you lie about your age again?”  

“N-No… Well….”  

Of course, I had to make money somehow, so I had no choice but to pretend to be an adult…!  

But I am an adult!  

Mentally, I’ve already lived for hundreds of years!  

It’s totally legal!  

However, no matter how much I denied it, the registered personal information clearly stated that I was a minor.  

And the reason for that was…  

On the first day I returned, I landed right in the middle of Shibuya and was immediately captured by armed police before I even had a chance to process what was happening.  

Back then, I thought I had entered a modern-day game world, so I assumed the armed officers were just humanoid monsters and was about to take them down.  

But these officers were experienced with returnees. Without hesitation, they shot me in the neck with a tranquilizer gun, and I was out like a light, dragged away without resistance.  

Wow. Impressive.  

Yeah, no way I could’ve beaten a tranquilizer gun.  

Honestly, I should be grateful to those officers for stopping me before I caused a massive incident the moment I returned to this world.  

It would’ve been too sad to finally make it back only to spend the rest of my life on the run.  

The real problem came after that.  

[“Hmm, so you were first discovered in the middle of Shibuya….”]  

[“Status window! Stats! Inventory! …What the? Why isn’t anything popping up!?”]  

[“Judging by how you’re talking, you’re definitely a returnee….”]  

By the way, I should mention this now—my name is Shibuya Karin (渋谷 かりん).  

Of course, I had a Korean name in my past life, but I forgot it a long time ago.  

How could I forget my own name, you ask?  

Try jumping from one world to another, constantly being called different titles like ‘Hero’ or ‘Saint,’ on top of having unique protagonist names and NPC names thrown at you every time.  

You wouldn’t remember your real name either—not after just fifty years, let alone a hundred.  

Anyway, back to the point….  

Since I was first discovered in the middle of Shibuya (渋谷), they gave me the last name Shibuya (渋谷).  

As for my first name, they randomly took ‘Karin (かりん)’ from a bag of crispy potato chips sitting on a desk.  

For context, the Japanese word for crispy is ‘karikari (かりかり).’  

And just like that, my new Japanese name became Shibuya Karin (渋谷 かりん).  

If I were to translate this into Korean naming conventions, it would be something like ‘Myeongdong Crunchman’….  

Is it really okay to just slap together a name like that?  

I considered protesting at first, but…  

Honestly, the name didn’t sound too bad, and by the time I even found out about it, all the paperwork had already been processed.  

Is this how my ancestors felt when they were forced to change their names during the colonial era…?  

I had plenty of other complaints, but since I had nowhere to live, I decided to let it slide since they at least gave me a place to stay.  

…Even if it was a run-down, barely-standing apartment.  

“W-Wait a second… Is this girl really a middle schooler?”  

“No, I’m an adult….”  

“Shibuya-san here is legally registered as a fifteen-year-old middle school student.”  

“…! I-I had no idea! I totally thought she was an adult…!”  

As I was lost in nostalgic thoughts, I suddenly felt hands grabbing onto my legs.  

The moment my real age was revealed, the bald guy started sweating bullets and dropped to his knees.  

He even started begging the officer for forgiveness and went as far as to do a full dogeza bow in front of me, pleading for mercy.  

As expected, being a middle school girl is OP.  

But wait… Does that mean it would’ve been fine if I were an adult? That’s kind of messed up, isn’t it?  

Well, I guess I can’t act too self-righteous either….  

And honestly, this is getting annoying. Maybe I should just let it go.  

“Alright, alright. Just get up already! I forgive you!”  

“R-Really!? Thank you! Thank you so much, miss! I’ll never forget this kindness!”  

Bowing three times in gratitude, the bald guy rushed out of the police station.  

Dragging this into a full legal battle would’ve just made things exhausting for both sides, so in the end, the case was resolved with a half-hearted compromise.  

“So… Shibuya-san?”  

“I know. I know already…. No one hires middle schoolers for part-time jobs…!”  

More than anything, I don’t get why they were fine with me pretending to be a high schooler all this time, but the moment I claimed to be an adult, they suddenly couldn’t let it slide.

Wouldn’t the latter be better? The hourly wage would go up.  

…Is that why?  

Anyway…!  

This is unfair.  

Even though this is the modern era, this world feels slightly different from the one I knew, and I can’t even return to my homeland, Korea—I’m being forced to live abroad.  

I can’t tell the officer this (not that he’d believe me), but apparently, according to agreements between nations, returnees automatically take on the nationality of the country they land in, regardless of their original homeland.  

In other words, even if I left this country, I wouldn’t even be able to dream of getting Korean residency in my current state.  

I’m not Korean anymore.  

Before that, I don’t even have the money for a plane or a boat ticket to Korea.  

Even if I did, even if I could return freely—  

There’s no guarantee that the Korea I knew, my hometown, my family, are still there, just as I remember them.  

In the end, this world isn’t much different from all the others I’ve passed through.  

Who knows?  

It may look like the real world, but if I meet some unknown condition, I might get thrown into the next one again….  

But more importantly, I need to figure out how to survive first.  

Rather than wasting time longing for a past that’s been eroded away after hundreds of years, I’m more concerned with the immediate reality of hunger and poverty.  

Naturally, the moment I smashed that bald guy’s head with a bottle, I got fired from my part-time job.  

When will I find another one…?  

The thought alone made my fists clench unconsciously.  

“Sigh… Yeah. You must be having a hard time too. I shouldn’t have said anything.”  

Noticing my frustration, the officer softened his tone.  

As I bowed slightly and turned to leave, he threw in a few words of concern, telling me to stay away from dangerous jobs.  

Finally, he said that if I ever struggled too much, I should come find him.  

When I nodded in response, he saw me off with a faint smile.  

***

A few days later, in the morning.  

“Excuse me… I’m here for a job interview.”  

…No, actually, it was the afternoon.  

“I look too young, so I can’t work here? Looking young is a good thing! Do you know how rare someone as cute as me is!?”  

Today’s interview was a spectacular failure.  

Because I’m short and annoyingly baby-faced, people keep mistaking me for a middle schooler, making it impossible to find a job.  

Even though Japan has a high percentage of high school part-timers, they’re strangely strict about hiring middle schoolers.  

Why?  

From my centuries-old perspective, middle schoolers and high schoolers are basically the same thing.  

On top of that, I’m running out of money. If this keeps up, I might actually starve to death.  

A middle school girl collapsing from starvation on the street?  

And that middle school girl being me? Absolutely not.  

“…At this point, I have no choice.”  

As a last resort, I’ll close my eyes, take a gamble, and strike it big at a pachinko parlor—!  

“Excuse me.”  

Just as I was about to take the first step toward ruining my life, a man in a neatly pressed suit approached me on the street.  

What is this? Is he looking for a sugar baby?  

“Would you be interested in becoming an idol?”  

“…Huh?”  

……An idol?  

“What are you—Wait, what?”  

“Here, take this.”  

Before I could process what he was saying, he slipped a small business card into my hand.  

Staring blankly at the card, I saw a name, a company, and in one corner, some tiny text mentioning something about Virtual and Idol.  

“…Virtual Idol?”  

“That’s correct.”  

“So… a VTuber?”  

“You’re well-informed.”  

Is this… fate?  

“In fact, I happened to see you at Moe Moe Maid House a while ago. After watching you, I became convinced—you have the potential to be an amazing VTuber. An idol.”  

“Haha….”  

I did think he looked vaguely familiar, but I see.  

So after witnessing me at the maid café—where I endured humiliation in a desperate attempt to survive, wearing a maid outfit and saying, ‘Welcome home, Master! Nyan-nyan!’ with a straight face— he decided I was perfect for a VTuber career.  

“…Uh… Actually, being a VTuber is a little….”  

VTubers are the very reason I suffered for countless years.  

And now you want me to be a VTuber? I’d rather starve to death and bet on a respawn chance.  

Actually, it’s not even a gamble. That’s just how it’s always been.  

As I carefully prepared to refuse, something shocking slipped into my ears.  

“Oh, by the way, the salary is….”  

Salary!?  

VTubers get a salary!?  

“Wait, wait—there’s a salary!?”  

“…? Yes, of course. You’d be a company employee, so naturally….”  

Now, here’s a surprise quiz for you.  

Who in this world is the most perfectly qualified to be a VTuber?  

That would be me—Shibuya Karin-chan!  

With hundreds of years of experience being possessed by VTubers, playing all kinds of games, chatting, and singing on stream, I’m basically the ultimate veteran!

That’s right. It’s me!  

“Umm~… How much is the salary, exactly…?”  

I carefully asked about the financial compensation, and it was lower than I expected.  

But considering my current situation—struggling to find any job—  

And the fact that I’d be getting a salary before even debuting, I should be bowing down in gratitude.  

And well… I was already doing just that.  

“I’ll work hard!!”  

I slammed my forehead to the ground in a full dogeza, causing the suited man—no, my benefactor—to panic and help me up.  

How gentlemanly….  

Such a warm-hearted and virtuous man.  

I can’t believe I even considered the possibility that he was looking for some shady sugar baby arrangement. I’m ashamed of myself.  

Grrrgle…  

“Ah….”  

“…You must be hungry.”  

“W-Well… I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. Ehe~…”  

“In that case, let’s discuss the details over a meal. Is there anything you’d like to eat?”  

“…Hamburg steak.”  

“Understood.”  

After that, I obediently followed the suited man into a family restaurant, where I ordered a hamburg steak set and happily devoured every last bite.  

During that time, there were discussions about contracts and other administrative matters, but I don’t really remember much. I just nodded along to everything.  

Because the moment I followed this man, my fate as a VTuber was already sealed.  

And just like that—  

I became a VTuber.