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

— [Apology Letter] (This post is only visible to administrators.)
[Author: Not Pino (pin0_live2d)]

The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived. The meerkat has been deceived.

Pino’s apology letter in the Jail section of the fan café looked less like a written statement and more like the panicked screams of a man in crisis.

It was just the same sentence repeated over and over, but somehow, it gave off a creeping sense of dread.

"At this point, it’s not an 8-ton truck. He got hit by a whole 20-ton dump truck."

Was it really that bad?

I pulled up my model on my phone and took another careful look at it.

Maybe because Dora had put so much effort into it, the rig was flawless—genuinely beautiful.

The way I could go from looking like a tiny witch with my robe and hat on to just a short office worker when I took them off was a fun contrast in itself.

I mean, didn’t my sensors react immediately when I first saw it?

Of course, once I realized I was the one who’d be using this model, my titanium-grade mental defense system had slammed down the barriers.

But if it had been anyone else… they could’ve been hit by the speeding truck without even realizing it.

Still, it wasn’t my fault.

I’d been upfront the whole time, saying I was just here to work.

Mugeon was the one who invited me to the match, so I just played my part. (Okay, maybe I got a little payback in.)

After that, all I did was diligently handle the promo.

It was them who stuck their fingers in their ears and refused to listen.

Honestly? I found this whole situation kind of funny.

Pino was a good worker—when he actually got around to it—but he always pushed deadlines to the very last second, making us sweat bullets before finally turning in his work.

Back when we commissioned Komari’s rig, our CEO went through hell dealing with him.

Half the time, he’d vanish in the middle of a conversation.
Even if we gave him clear instructions, he’d forget them the next day.
Deadlines? Meaningless.

What was supposed to be a three-month project dragged on endlessly.

And yet, when he finally got started?

He finished the whole thing in less than a week.

Even the planning team was floored—his average turnaround time had always been at least two weeks.

And when we checked his work, worried he might’ve rushed through it?

We got Komari.

A quiet, thoughtful, yet expressive and adorable elf, brought to life by Pino’s hands.

Even our CEO, who had spent three months cursing his name, had nothing to say when she saw the final product—it was perfect.

Of course, the same mess happened all over again when we commissioned Komari’s new outfit.

The CEO was so exhausted by the ordeal that she was seriously considering hiring someone else for the next project.

So honestly? Seeing him walk into a trap like this was a blessing.

…I should call him up in the café chat and give him a little scolding.

I get that his life is rough, but that’s his problem.

[Administrator: Hello.]
[Not Pino: Ah.]
[Not Pino: Admin.]
[Not Pino: Please, have mercy.]
[Not Pino: I beg you, please spare me.]
[Not Pino: If I lose my ability to see Staff-D…!!!]
[Not Pino: That day, the world will simply cease to exist.]

Getting banned from Komari’s channel meant losing access to Staff-D entirely.

In Parallel, a ban from one stream applied to all streams.

[Administrator: You’re not just some random guy, so I’ll have to discuss your punishment with the CEO first.]
[Not Pino: …Wait, does that mean my sentence might get extended?]
[Administrator: That’s possible. We might add charges for betrayal as well.]
[Administrator: I never expected someone we trusted with our projects to be pulling this kind of stunt behind our backs.]
[Not Pino: KYAAAAAHHHH.]
[Not Pino: NOOOOooooooo.]

I left him hanging for a bit, letting him stew in his own panic.

Soon enough, he cracked.

[Not Pino: I swear I’ll be diligent with Parallel’s commissions from now on.]
[Not Pino: I will never miss a deadline again.]
[Not Pino: No, I’ll prioritize Parallel’s commissions above all else, even if it means pushing everything else aside.]
[Not Pino: Please, just this once, have mercy.]
[Not Pino: Just don’t extend my sentence, I’m begging you.]

But I was a merciless judge.

The original punishment was supposed to be a year, but we reduced it to a week because it was a sting operation.

Let’s stick to the law.

[Administrator: Wait for the CEO’s verdict.]

***

Meeting the boss in front of the PC café, I told her about Pino.

“You… when did you even find time to write on the gallery again…?”

Getting scolded right off the bat. As expected of the boss.

“It’s an easy way to catch troublemakers without much effort.”

“The fact that the one who got caught was Pino of all people is just…”

“Anyway, I got a promise from him. He said he’ll meet deadlines properly from now on.”

The boss chuckled and muttered.

“If he were the type to actually keep promises, he would’ve done it already. Seeing how deeply he’s been affected, you showing up on streams from time to time would probably be more effective than anything else. Just leave the seven-day ban as is.”

But she must’ve realized she had slipped up because she quickly backtracked with a cautious tone.

“Of course, you don’t have to force yourself onto streams just because of Pino. You never actually said you’d stream, after all.”

“That’s true. Well, I do think I’ll be showing up on the others’ streams more often, though.”

“Why? Did you get roped into another broadcast already?”

“Komari said she wants to do Naore together.”

“Ah, Naore. Right. None of the other first-gens play Naore, so Komari’s probably been feeling a little lonely in that regard.”

After placing our food orders, I double-clicked an icon I normally wouldn’t even touch.

[Knight of Legend]

The number one game in global market share.

A TPS Hero Shooter AOS.

A game I had never played in my entire life. Not even watched a single match from its league.

I wouldn’t have had much to say if someone accused me of watching Komari’s streams.

But since Naore was a national phenomenon, every stream attracted a swarm of backseat gamers.

Every time Komari played, I was too busy managing chat, handing out warnings, and banning users to focus on the game itself.

The boss, who had naturally assumed I’d be playing Battle Colosseum, looked puzzled.

“You’re playing Naore today?”

“Yeah. I was hoping you could teach me.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve never streamed it, but you’ve played it a few times behind the scenes, right?”

The boss blinked, clearly having trouble believing what she was hearing.

“You… want me to teach you Naore?”

“Yeah.”

The reason for her confusion was obvious—our past gaming history.

It wasn’t just Battle Colosseum.

No matter what game the boss played, I would always show up and absolutely demolish her.

She liked FPS games, so naturally, I dominated her in those.

Whether it was Teddy Bear League, where little jelly-like dolls brawled, or Touhon, a legendary fighting game, it was all the same.

If a game seemed fun and I saw the boss struggling, I would immediately snipe her and drag her by the hair.

So for me to ask her for guidance… it must have been earth-shattering.

“This is so fucking random.”

“I do have my pride as a gamer. I don’t want Komari to roast me.”

“…And yet, you just admitted that to me?”

“Well, you might know, but at least you won’t rub it in.”

The boss pouted for a moment, clearly trying to come up with something to say, then gave up.

She might be terrifying when she’s mad, but our boss is actually a softie.

“Komari does tend to go full dark mode when playing Naore… but would she really do that to you?”

“Ranked Komari is kinda scary.”

One of the main reasons Komari’s Naore ranked games were so popular was her reactions to random teammates and snipers.

Since she was usually quiet and focused on skillful gameplay, her sudden bursts of frustration at weird plays stood out even more.

She didn’t curse or use slurs, but she was too smart for her own good.

Her layered sarcasm could make your brain melt.

If I played with her, I could protect her as a newbie.

But after about five games, I’d be left alone in the wild, fearing for my life as I ran from the apex predators.

While I was making my account, the boss had already logged into Naore and asked,

“Alright, first thing’s first—what kind of champion do you want to play?”

“Champion… so like a Legend in Battle Colosseum?”

“In Battle Colosseum, you’ve got Assault, Controller, and Support. Naore has four classes.”

Siege, Tank, DPS, and Support.

It was pretty similar to Battle Colosseum, but “Siege” immediately caught my eye.

“What does Siege do?”

“You know Naore is a game where two teams try to destroy each other’s base, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Siege champions are specialized for taking down bases. They can withstand tower damage that would normally be impossible to survive, break through defenses, and make sure the demolition squad can get to the enemy base.”

“Ohhh.”

It sounded interesting.

I’d played characters similar to the other classes in Battle Colosseum, but Siege? Never touched it.

“I’m not an expert either, but there are two main strategies. Either you pick a champion that helps in team fights while still being able to destroy objectives, or you go full rat mode, ignore everything, and just destroy the enemy base.”

It even sounded fun.

I wouldn’t need much knowledge of the game to play it, and I could still contribute to victory without diving into team fights.

I was never great at team coordination.

Running around alone and breaking things suited me just fine.

“I’ll try Siege, then.”

“Siege… let’s see. What’s a good beginner pick? I’ve never played Siege myself, so let me check the champion list…”

The boss seemed a bit lost, probably because she wasn’t familiar with the class either.

While she browsed, I opened the character selection screen and scrolled through the Siege champions.

Then, at the very end of the list…

I found someone wielding a very familiar weapon.

Double-barrel shotguns in both hands.

White angel wings sprouting from her back.

A broken halo floating above her head.

And every now and then, a dark silhouette with a twisted grin would flicker behind her.

It made my heart race.

Most importantly—she was gorgeous.

“What’s up with this shotgun chick?”

“Oh, Apolla? She’s the second type I mentioned—the full-on demolition playstyle.”

“I’m picking her.”

The boss looked hesitant.

Probably because, next to Apolla’s description, there was a bright red tag: EXTREME DIFFICULTY.

“Uh… she’s really hard to play. Compared to other Siege champs, she’s super fragile.”

I shook my head.

Once I fixate on a character, I have to play them—meta or not, doesn’t matter.

“As long as I destroy the buildings, I win, right?”

Besides, Apolla had a special demolition animation.

She loaded special rounds into her shotgun and obliterated turrets.

How could I not pick her?

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll win my first match.”

{{ DEFEAT! }}

[Team] ifyouactyoushouldbeagenius: Apolla, seriously
[Team] ifyouactyoushouldbeagenius: playing like a goddamn cockroach
[Team] ifyouactyoushouldbeagenius: just uninstall
[Team] dodoheehee: ㅗ

For all my big talk, I didn’t destroy a single enemy building before our base got obliterated.

Mostly because I never stayed alive long enough.

If I ran for a turret, an airstrike would flatten me.

If I took another route, two enemies would ambush me and beat me to death.

I was used to sudden engagements from Battle Colosseum, but not knowing my character or skills made things brutally difficult.

At least in Battle Colosseum, you could dodge bullets.

Here, attacks slashed, exploded, or straight-up erased entire areas.

I would’ve killed for a smoke grenade.

Still, I learned something.

Unlike Battle Colosseum, I had to track enemy positions.@@novelbin@@

If I got caught, I needed to know exactly where their attacks wouldn’t reach.

For the first time in my gaming life, I faced a trial—one that couldn’t be solved with my usual shotgun tactics.

But I wasn’t about to quit.

It was only my first match, after all.

As I queued for the next game, the boss hesitated and carefully said,

“…Maybe you should do the tutorial first. You didn’t use any of your adaptive skills.”

“Adaptive skills?”

“…Just start the tutorial. It’ll explain everything.”

Naore had four types of abilities: Passive, Combat Skills, Ultimate, and Adaptive Skills.

I had assumed it was structured the same as Battle Colosseum, but apparently, there was an extra mechanic.

Adaptive Skills were like real-time perks—every few levels, you got to pick one from a set of options.

In Battle Colosseum, you spent gold to buy items that boosted your stats.

But in Naore, instead of gold, you used level-ups to gain useful combat abilities.

You could only choose a new one at levels 6, 12, and 18.

But that restriction didn’t matter to me.

Because the moment I saw Apolla’s third Adaptive Skill, it completely stole my attention.

[Adaptive Skill III - Fallen Angel’s Black Cloud]
[Creates a cloud that lasts for 30 seconds, obscuring vision for all enemies inside. Apolla is unaffected.] Warning: Fallen Angel’s Black Cloud does not block enemy attacks.*

This was a smoke screen.

It felt like finding a long-lost, beloved pet.