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

— [Rain (VTuber) Gallery] —

[No questions from today's contestants, don't even ask.]

There were basically two Rains today.

By the end, even Komari and Maru had started catching up, making it harder and harder to tell them apart.

Once it got down to just two final choices, it was basically random.

Damn, Rain.
If you didn’t wanna give us pizza, just say so.

First it was Kicheol-hyung, now this…
Is she farming celebrities or something?
Where the hell does she keep finding people like this?!

[Comments]

— Rain184: Bro, you fought for your life out there. Lmao.
ㄴ Rain815 (OP): MY PIZZA, NOOOOO!!!

— Rain881: Watching BigPuddle get absolutely destroyed made me glad I didn’t get picked.
ㄴ Rain815 (OP): Whatever, I still got my HamBugi plush~

— [Parallel (Streaming) Gallery] —

[Why Rain MK2 isn't just a staff member]

I’m telling you, she’s a second-gen recruit.

There’s no way a staff member is that good at voice impressions and rap.

If you think I’m just making stuff up, how about I take this to another stream and lay it all out?

If she’s really just staff, then the first stop should be Momo’s stream.

(Upvotes: 332 / Downvotes: 1)

[Comments]

— Parallel715: Bro, who the hell downvoted this? Show yourself.

— Parallel341: No fr, this is facts.
ㄴ Parallel341: She’s way too talented to be just staff.

— Parallel418: Instead of talking here, why not just ask Komari and Maru?
ㄴ Parallel164: Genius.
ㄴ Parallel456: Bruh, you can’t just out them like that lmao.

— Parallel315: Let’s be real, being a VTuber is way better than a regular job.
ㄴ Parallel981: Sir.
ㄴ Parallel385: FR, lmao.
ㄴ Parallel124: Just buy a model and go full VTuber.

Watching the post-stream reactions, CEO Cheon Do-hee let out a sigh.

“… The hype is way bigger than expected.”

Not that she hadn’t seen this coming.

It was just way hotter than she had anticipated.

If Magia had just been the comic relief,
the reaction would’ve been something like:

“Oh, that staff member? Haha, she was funny.”

But at this rate, the way things were going…
It felt like Magia was the main character, not Rain.

‘Man… she really used to be a troll, huh?’

She had a natural talent for pissing people off.

Most people can’t make others mad with just a few words.

Magia? She made it look effortless.

Honestly, the only reason things weren’t getting completely out of control was because people still saw her as Parallel staff.

If she had been anyone else, there’d be wildfire-level chaos everywhere.

Do-hee could already imagine how much of a nightmare it would be to clean up that mess.

“… Still, no immediate issues.”

Her biggest concern had been the first-gen members.

But checking the TalkCord chat,
nobody seemed particularly worried about tomorrow’s stream.

Besides, off-topic discussions were banned during broadcasts anyway.
Anyone who pushed too hard would just get banned on the spot.

[Rain: Magia, are you free tomorrow evening?]
[Rain: Let’s grab food and talk.]

[Komari: Rain, don’t cut in line!]
[Komari: I asked first…]
[Maru: Omg, why don’t we all just eat together?]
[Parallel Ops Team Magia: No.]
[Maru: What is up with this “No” parrot?]
[Maru: (Angry Emoji)]

[Dora: Just finished watching the stream—]
[Dora: Magia, what the hell, that was INSANE.]
[Parallel Ops Team Magia: It was just the voice modulator.]
[Rain: WTF, LIES.]

They were getting along great.

At least, by Magia’s standards.

If there was a real problem,
Magia would drop everything to help them—
but the second things got personal, she’d draw a hard boundary and back away.

That’s just how she was.

And after nearly a full year,
her relationship with the first-gen members hadn’t changed.

Magia cared about them, sure.

But in the end, she was Cheon Do-hee’s fan first.

Even now, despite casually texting in TalkCord,

Magia had rushed straight to the PC café when she heard Do-hee was nearby.

“CEO!”

Short legs sprinting, arms flailing wildly,

she practically tackled Do-hee in excitement.

Honestly, it was kind of adorable.

“Did you put in your vacation request?”

“Duh. Handled it perfectly.”

“Wow. You really think going to a PC café with me is some big achievement?”

“Of course. Look at me, playing games with the CEO herself. I’m thriving.”

“… It’s just Battle Call, Magia.”

Do-hee sighed.

“Besides, PC cafés suck for Battle Call.
We have to reset all our sensitivity settings and audio configs. It’s annoying.”

At that, Magia’s piercing gaze locked onto her.

A silent message:

“These next few hours are the most important in my entire life.”

Yup.

Once a troll sniper, always a troll sniper.

“Just tweak the settings a little and deal with it.
Every second counts right now.”

Magia even started humming in excitement.

Do-hee muttered under her breath.

“… You were really gonna quit if I didn’t hang out with you, huh?”

“That was a joke.”

“I’m begging you. Don’t make that joke again.”

“I won’t. Why would I?”

She giggled.

Something about it reminded Do-hee of a little gremlin witch, itching to cause mischief.

And, of course, that concern didn’t take long to become reality.

“HEY—!! STOP FIRING YOUR GUN!!!
YOU’RE PULLING EVERY ENEMY TO US!!!”

Magia had been unleashing her double-barrel shotgun nonstop since the match started,
drawing every single enemy in a ten-mile radius.

“Mouse sensitivity is different.
I gotta adjust to it, so there’s no choice.”

“… What.”

She smiled.

“Why don’t you just embrace the sound of Duke-Bae-kun’s gunfire?”

“I AM LOSING MY MIND.”

Yep.

Turns out, a former troll stays a troll—
even when they’re on your team.

*

Battle Colosseum was a three-player team-based battle royale.

That said, plenty of people played solo or duo queues.

These players were often called "Payoens"—
hardened veterans so skilled at the game that anything less than a disadvantage felt boring to them.

Of course, some duos just didn’t want to risk getting a random teammate.

In those cases, full three-player squads had the advantage—
since Battle Colosseum was a third-person hero shooter,
losing just one ability could mean a huge power gap in a fight.

“Pinged a duo queue.”

[Got it. Moving in.]
[Following.]

This three-man squad wasn’t just any team.

They were Platinum-ranked, sitting in the top 10% of players—
skilled and confident.

And this was just casual matchmaking, not ranked.

A two-player queue?

No reason to hesitate.

“One Revolt, one Crazy Shot. Don’t get too close, just keep them boxed in.”

[Copy.]

“Already got eyes on them.”

One of the players, watching through a sniper scope,
waited for his teammates to get in position.

And the moment they did—

Bang!

A perfect headshot.

A loud shattering noise rang out as Revolt’s shield broke instantly.

Panicking, Revolt threw down a smoke grenade and tried to retreat.

But the two teammates had already closed in,
raining down grenades and cutting down his HP in seconds.

With Revolt down,
the squad turned their attention to Crazy Shot—

Or at least, they thought they did.

“Revolt down. Where’s Crazy Shot?”

[Weren’t you watching him?]

“I broke Revolt’s shield! I had to zoom in for a second—lost him for a bit.”

[Damn it, can’t see through the smoke.]

“Whatever, just finish off Revolt. I’ll find Cra—”

Shffft.

A footstep.

Close.

“Crazy Shot, here—!”

He tried to react.

But unscoping from a sniper slowed his movement—

And it was already too late.

BANG!

At point-blank range, a double-barrel shotgun blast was like a bomb going off.

Every single pellet landed directly on his head.

His maxed-out shield? Gone in an instant.

But double-barrels only held two shots.

And once both shots were fired, the user had to reload.

That was his opening.

He switched to his SMG, ready to fire—

BANG!

HP instantly gone.

His character collapsed.

A fresh smoke grenade rolled in, covering the area.

“WHAT THE HELL—?! WHY DOES THIS PSYCHO HAVE TWO DOUBLE-BARRELS?!”

Crazy Shot’s passive ability boosted shotgun damage,
but most players didn’t dual-wield them.

Why?

Because after firing all four shots,
reloading both guns took a total of six seconds.

And in high-tier play,
six seconds was an eternity.

This meant that whoever had just pulled that off was insane.

As his two teammates finished off Revolt, one of them muttered:

[Two double-barrels? What is this, some kind of Human Signal Flare Kim Fireworks situation?]

[Wait… the Momo superfan?]

[Yeah, that dude loves double-barrels.]

But when the kill feed popped up,

the sniper quickly realized—

it wasn’t him.

{{Fireworks Festival VIP Kim Duk-bae >> (Headshot) (Down) NotMyEyes}}

“…It’s not Kim Fireworks.”

[Bro, look at that name.]

“...Feels oddly similar, though.”

[You sure it’s not his smurf?]

They were still baffled when the sniper suddenly spotted something.

Through the smoke—

Crazy Shot was circling behind his teammate.

The smoke wasn’t for escaping.

It was to set up another kill.

“BEHIND YOU! BEHIND—!!”

BANG!@@novelbin@@

{{Fireworks Festival VIP Kim Duk-bae >> (Headshot) (Down) Solo}}

The teammate, running in without recharging his shield,
got blasted into the dirt.

The third teammate managed to catch a glimpse of their opponent,
rushing forward to punish the reload.

BANG!

One shot.

Max-level shield? Gone.

Before he could even react,

a sticky grenade came flying in.

BOOM!

{{Fireworks Festival VIP Kim Duk-bae >> (Sticky Grenade) (Down) MarbledBeef}}

{{Fireworks Festival VIP Kim Duk-bae >> (Kill) NotMyEyes}}
{{Fireworks Festival VIP Kim Duk-bae >> (Kill) Solo}}
{{Fireworks Festival VIP Kim Duk-bae >> (Kill) MarbledBeef}}

A full three-man squad, wiped out in seconds.

Game over.

Their final ranking: 15th place out of 30 teams.

“…What the fuck just happened?”

At first, they weren’t too upset.

Matchmaking in casual mode threw together all skill levels,
so sometimes you just ran into an absurdly skilled player.

But then—

A voice came through.

From the player who annihilated them.

And it was—

A cute, bubbly, little girl’s voice.

[CEO, I’ll revive you!]

……The fuck.

[Ugh, your gear is so flimsy. How are we supposed to hold Zhangpan Pass like this?]

……THE FUCK!!!

That game?

Would live in their nightmares forever.