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

The CEO smiled warmly and patted my head.

“No. You’re not coming.”

For a moment, I questioned whether we were even having the same conversation.
Not coming? But today is the broadcast day.

“You want me to rest after preparing everything?”

“I’m not approving any weekend work. You’re staying home and resting, got it? The doctor said you need absolute rest this week.”

Now that I thought about it, the broadcast was on a Saturday.
But so what?

I never cared about weekends.
Even when the operations manager told me to cut back on hours if I didn’t want to see him get dragged away by HR, I simply worked from home and submitted my reports like usual.
I even CC’d him on every single one so he wouldn’t get in trouble.

I had informed Seung-yeon about this too, and she agreed that it was only natural.
VTubers were busier on weekends, so it was only right for those supporting them to be just as busy.

I grumbled as I folded the blanket I had been using and placed it neatly on the couch.

“Resting is fine and all, but we spent a whole week preparing for this, and you want me to just sit out? That’s such a waste. I could at least work for a day…”

The CEO didn’t respond, just stared at me in silence.
It was clear she had no intention of budging.

I let out a dramatic cry and bolted.

“Down with Dictator Momo!”

I expected her to chase after me and smack me on the head, but she didn’t even bother getting up.

In the end, I was the only idiot running around in a panic.

Seriously, she was giving off some next-level dictator energy today.

When I returned, still panting, Kang Ji-ho eyed me warily.

“Gia, are you okay? You’re running around too much—you’re going to collapse again.”

“I’m fine now, really.”

“Even so…”

I quickly got a progress update from Seung-yeon.
Even if I had to leave work early for health reasons, it was only right to be aware of the situation and make sure my replacement was handling things properly.

But—

“That’s all?”

“Yes! The past few days, everyone’s only been doing one-hour solo streams, so there’s not much to report.”

Amazingly, nothing had happened.
I mean, I guess that was a good thing.

I had been worried about potential issues with the talents’ first 3D broadcasts, but everything had gone off without a hitch.
Lying on the CEO’s office couch, I had watched the relay showcase, and it was surprisingly smooth.

The roleplay was solid, and it was clear the girls had practiced their movements and camera work extensively.
Even the community reactions afterward, on forums and social media, were positive.

Since Seung-yeon was just as much of a forum junkie as I was, she had probably already combed through all the discussions without me needing to tell her where to look.

“I’ll come in tomorrow to monitor the pre-event stream! I’ve been leaving on time all week, so I still have plenty of overtime hours left.”

The online concert was happening at a rented motion studio, and the first-gen members were handling everything themselves.
In other words, there was nothing for us to do.

Well, except for monitoring the pre-event stream tomorrow.

This weird feeling of bittersweetness…

‘… No. It’s not bittersweet.’

After streaming for a year, it was only natural for the talents to start handling crises on their own.
They had all grown tremendously.

And that growth was clearly evident in the 3D showcase.@@novelbin@@

Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

I packed my bag and put on my coat, prompting the team leader to ask:

“Are you heading out? The CEO told me to drive you home today.”

“Oh, thank you. Have you and Seung-yeon had dinner yet?”

“We already ate. Why, are you hungry? Should we grab something on the way?”

Since he had a family, I didn’t want to keep him out too long.
But if I said I’d go eat alone, he’d definitely insist on joining me.

I’d just grab something light and then order more food at home.

“There’s a street stall near the office. Let’s just get some fish cakes and rice cakes.”

When we stepped outside, the November wind was brutal, slicing through the gaps between the skyscrapers.
But in that freezing air, the spicy, pepper-infused broth and the chewy fish cakes were pure heaven.

Biting into a rice cake soaked in the warm soup, I felt the chill at my neck and legs, but at the same time, it was absolute bliss.
The tension in my body melted away, and I could finally relax.

“No matter how I think about it, telling me not to do the event after all that prep is just too much.”

“Oh… you mean the pre-event?”

For once, I let everything out.

“Yes! We spent an entire week preparing! And it wasn’t like we just casually prepared—we squeezed it into our already packed schedules. I dropped everything I was doing to hand things off to Seung-yeon, and the CEO even postponed meetings for this. But now she wants to cancel? It’s such a waste! I don’t get why she’s suddenly taking the harder route when the easier one is right in front of her.”

I kept venting as the team leader quietly listened, sipping his fish cake broth.
Then he gave me a gentle smile.

“Don’t take it too hard. Honestly, if I were the CEO, I’d probably stop you too. Right now, they’re estimating about eighteen thousand viewers for the pre-event. You’ve never hosted a broadcast before, so it makes sense for her to be worried. And considering you collapsed not long ago…”

Even though his words were kind, I still couldn’t accept it.

I had been eating well and getting plenty of rest for the past three days.
There was no way I wasn’t fully recovered by now.

I was completely recharged and ready to handle anything.

The team leader must have noticed my dissatisfied expression.

“Want me to put in a word with the CEO?”

“Oh. Really?”

He hummed thoughtfully before responding.

“But you’ll have to offer something in return.”

“…Offer something?”

“You know the CEO. She’s not the type to be swayed by emotions.”

“Oh.”

I had to agree.
She never let anyone represent Parallel unless they met her exacting standards.

During recruitment?
Plenty of people tried to appeal to her by talking about their personal struggles, hardships, and difficult pasts.

But she never wavered.
The only things that mattered were whether the person had talent, mental resilience, and the ability to sustain a long-term career in streaming.
Trying to win her over with emotions would only backfire.

In other words, I had to convince her logically.

The team leader needed a solid argument—something that would justify my participation in the pre-event despite my recent health issues.

‘Doing the pre-event together is the right call.’

The CEO herself had suggested streaming together for the first time.
She had made that decision logically, believing it would be more entertaining.

And it would undoubtedly help Parallel grow.
Throwing all that preparation away now would be such a waste.

But a concrete reason… Nothing came to mind.

“…Do you have any ideas, Team Leader? I can’t think of anything right now.”

Kang Ji-ho raised an eyebrow.

“If you’re open to any method, want to leave it to me? But I’ll need one thing from you first.”

“One thing?”

“Yeah. I need to be absolutely sure before I pull out all the stops to convince her.”

He asked me something incredibly simple.

“Gia, do you really want to do the pre-event with the CEO?”

It wasn’t even a question.

“Yes.”

***

About an Hour Later

Just as she was about to leave work, Cheon Do-hee saved the final script she had reviewed.

“Boss~.”

She looked up in surprise as Kang Ji-ho returned.

“I thought you were heading home late. Why are you back?”

“I had something to discuss with you.”

Kang Ji-ho handed her a freshly bought iced Americano with an extra shot.

Cheon Do-hee pressed the cold cup against her heated forehead, deep in thought, and muttered,

“What about Gia? Did she get home safely?”

“Yes.”

“And I assume you let her talk you into it?”

“Oh my.”

Covering her mouth with a hand, Kang Ji-ho widened her eyes in exaggerated surprise.

“Why are you acting so shocked? You coming back here makes it obvious.”

“Well, I can’t exactly lie. Hehe.”

“So? What did she say? She insists on going on the broadcast tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Cheon Do-hee’s response was as firm as steel.

“Tell her absolutely not. I got carried away with my own excitement and dragged Gia into this, but I regret it now. I never should’ve done that.”

“Hm.”

“People have their strengths. But Gia… she’s just too good at everything. I let myself forget that she’s not supposed to do everything. It was a mistake. She’s fine right where she is.”

That was how Magia had always been.

Right from the start, when Do-hee asked to meet in person to discuss a job.

When she asked her to join Parallel as a manager to set the standards and deal with trolls.
When she later invited her to quit management and join the company she was founding.

When she asked Gia to oversee the first-generation members’ chat moderation.
When she assigned her to monitor streams and write reports.
When she requested her to handle broadcast equipment after the former team leader left a mess behind before quitting after only three months.

Whenever there was an interesting content idea, Do-hee would ask Gia for recommendations.
Whenever she was too busy to keep up with industry trends, she’d ask Gia to fill her in.

And Gia always complied.

It was like she physically couldn’t say no.

Like rejecting a request was some kind of fatal disease.

Worse yet, she never stuck to just what she was assigned.

If the HR manager needed help with interviews, Gia helped.
If another team was short on staff, she filled in.
She even ended up collapsing from malnutrition once. That was last year.

After that, Do-hee personally visited each team leader and told them to stop piling extra work on Gia.
Even though she was technically part of the operations team and directly under Do-hee’s command, from that moment on, she became truly isolated.

Do-hee had made sure Gia was cut off from extra responsibilities so she could focus on her actual job.

And yet…

This time, Do-hee herself had been the one to push Gia to the brink.

Because of her own selfishness.

That was why she couldn’t grant Gia’s request.

If she collapsed again, it wouldn’t be just the broadcast—she wouldn’t be able to focus on work at all.

“This conversation is over. Let’s head home.”

“Hold on a second.”

But Kang Ji-ho wasn’t here to give up so easily.

“Boss, what is Gia to you?”

“She’s Parallel’s gray area fixer and a walking VTuber alarm clock.”

Kang Ji-ho burst into laughter.

“Pfft, I think I get what you mean.”

Ideally, every company would have clearly defined roles where everyone worked efficiently and left on time.

But in reality, even massive corporations struggled with that.

Every workplace had gray areas—tasks that no one was officially responsible for but still needed to be done.

Somebody had to handle them.

If someone noticed the gaps early and assigned them, great. If not, those gaps often led to disasters.

Magia was the one who erased those gray areas.

When someone suddenly quit, Gia was the one filling in.
And more often than not, she ended up permanently taking over those roles.

But that wasn’t all.

Ever since the first-gen members debuted, she had been like a human alarm clock, constantly chirping at Do-hee:

“Are the new outfits ready?”
“Are we doing a New Year’s event? Valentine’s? April Fool’s?”
“What about birthday merch? Have we set up a permanent merch store?”
“Are we planning any big vacation specials? Any collabs? How’s the server maintenance?”
“By the way, Komari has been playing Naore too much lately. Maybe she should scale back…”

Sure, about half of those concerns turned out to be unnecessary.
If all of them were overlooked, the planning team would deserve to be fired.

But even they were human. Sometimes, things slipped through the cracks.
And every time that happened, Gia’s nagging saved the day.

There had been complaints about Parallel’s frequent streaming issues, but never about the merch being subpar, the content feeling stale, or the company losing its creative edge.

Because even when everyone was too busy to notice, there was always one ever-frustrated viewer monitoring everything months in advance.

That was Gia’s role in Parallel.

If she disappeared, the company wouldn’t grind to a halt, but the ship wouldn’t be moving forward at full speed either.

Without a proper check, it was only a matter of time before the sails tore, the keel cracked, or a hole formed in the hull.

“But Gia is still a person. And people have ambitions.”

“…Go on.”

“My point is, she wants something. It might seem like she’s just following orders and supporting everyone from behind the scenes, but she has something she wants to do at Parallel.”

“You’re saying… that’s this pre-event?”

“Yes. She wants to show people what she prepared with you. No matter what.”

“Well, that might be true, but…”

The weight on the scale was still heavily tipped toward keeping Gia from working. Do-hee didn’t seem like she’d budge.

But Kang Ji-ho wasn’t here to just add weight.

She came to break the scale entirely.

She was a professional who had survived the gaslighting tactics of the entertainment industry.
Exploiting logical weaknesses to persuade someone wasn’t even a challenge.

“If Gia told you that you should quit streaming because she was worried about you, how would you feel?”

“…That wouldn’t be like Magia at all.”

Kang Ji-ho smirked.

“Exactly. And that’s what you’re doing to her right now.”

“…What?”

“Think about it. If you suddenly started sheltering Gia after she collapsed just once, wouldn’t she feel like you changed?”

“Uh. Hmm. Uh?”

Cheon Do-hee is Confused!

This was the moment Kang Ji-ho had been waiting for. She let out a sigh as if burdened.

“Besides, do you know how frustrating it is to throw away a project you worked so hard on? And look—
You finally found a replacement for her.
You’re cutting down her work hours.
You’re telling her not to participate in the pre-event.

It almost sounds like you’re preparing to phase her out before suggesting she resign—”

“Wait, what?! No, hold on! That’s not what I meant at all! I’m just worried about her health! And besides, I just gave her a raise recently, why would I—?!”

“Right, you gave her a raise. So that she’d get a little extra before being forced out? If this were a normal office job, that’s exactly what it would look like.”

“Wha—?! No way, this is driving me crazy.”

***

Meanwhile, at Gia’s Place

I had just finished washing up and was lying in bed, giggling at some Kirinuki clips when my phone started vibrating like crazy.

It was the team leader.

[Team Leader: The boss caved.]
[Team Leader: If she calls, answer in a tired voice, got it?]
[Team Leader: But if she asks to do the pre-event together, respond with overwhelming enthusiasm.]
[Team Leader: Got it?]

It seemed like things had worked out… but why did this feel like some kind of emergency?

What the hell was happening over there?