A certain izakaya in Songdo, Incheon.
"Hey. I heard your company went bankrupt."
Those were the first words from a friend I hadn't seen in person for about three years.
She wore a casual hoodie, had a short haircut, and was in jeans, but despite her slender frame, she was, in fact, a woman.
"You know I came back to Korea because my company went under, right? Is that really the first thing you're going to say to me the moment I'm back?"
"From now on, the Starflower Gallery is ours!"
"Sure, take it."
"Uh, well... that's not the reaction I was expecting."
"I don't even have the energy to play along with your jokes. Just give me a drink."
Being in the industry, I knew it was a joke, but I instinctively responded like I was in the UFC.
I couldn't help it.
"Did you get your severance pay?"
"Don't you know Japan doesn't usually offer severance pay? I came here today expecting you to treat me."
"Bullshit. As if our dear Kang Minhyuk wouldn't have put that in his contract."
"You're sharp as a tack."
I tried to get a free meal by saying I didn't get any severance, but I failed.
"I got severance pay, but I didn't come here to buy you dinner with it."
"Wow, so sharp. You haven't changed one bit in three years. Not a shred of compassion in you."
"You crazy bastard. You're the one who invited me out, saying you'd treat me."
"Hehehe."
It wasn't like I was begging or anything.
After all, she was the one who called me out, fresh off my return to Korea, promising to buy me a meal.
"So where did the severance pay go? Don't tell me you invested it in stocks."
"I gave it all away."
"Gave it away?"
Giving away his severance pay.
At those words, my friend's expression instantly changed.
"What, why? Are you insane?"
"I had it included as a special clause in my contract, but the kids didn't."
The kids.
"...They didn't have severance pay in their contracts?"
"It might be different for a regular company, but they were hired as VTubers. Retirement... isn't exactly a common thing."
"Ah. Right, it's pretty obvious what happens after they retire, so it's rare for them to get severance."
At that one word, my friend let out a soft "ah" and averted her gaze.
"...So they really didn't get a single cent? But that company had a decent amount of capital, didn't it?"
"The kids were funding a major project out of their own pockets, but it fell through. And some of them were still small-timers who hadn't started making real money yet."
"Ah. Small-timers."
"I split what I had left so they could use it to buy the copyrights to their avatars."
The company was gone, and the idols under it lost their livelihood in an instant.
"The ones with a lot of subscribers had enough money to buy the rights to their characters and continue, but the ones who had just hit 50,000 couldn't possibly afford it."
"Right. You were the one who discovered and nurtured them, weren't you? Checking everything from their resumes."
"Yeah. There were even some who were like underground idols."
When the company went under, many people lost their jobs.
And as their manager and a sort of producer, my job vanished in a flash too.
"What about the talents? Are they reincarnating? Or graduating for good?"
"Didn't I just mention the copyrights? I solved it by splitting my severance pay so the kids could buy their own characters."
"Ah..."
"They've completely transitioned from corporate to indie. Not just changing their colors a bit."
"So there won't be any 'Nice to meet you for the first time' moments, then."
Since this was a conversation between industry insiders, the waiter who just brought our food probably wouldn't understand.
"So when everyone on social media was saying different things, and then suddenly it all got sorted out and they were thanking someone... that was you, wasn't it?"
"It wasn't all me."
"You went through a lot cleaning up the mess for them, man."
"Don't mention it."
VTuber. Corporate. Indie. Reincarnation.
"Otherwise, channels with hundreds of thousands... even a million subscribers would have just vanished. It would have had a big impact in Korea too, right?"
"I suppose so. The entire company shut down."
It was a somewhat complicated issue, but the gist was that a private individual had bought the copyrights and characters that would have been liquidated when the company went bankrupt.
"They were avatars that everyone had used for years, in some cases. I couldn't just let them be put up for auction because of the bankruptcy. And I couldn't let another company buy them out and stick completely different people inside."
"True. With VTubers, even if the model is the same, if the person inside changes, they're a completely different being."
The alcohol tasted bitter.
"But still, it was a VTuber company. Weren't all the talents making good money?"
"You know how our company went under, don't you?"
"I have a rough idea... but the rumors are pretty wild."
In the VTuber industry, while it's not a common occurrence for a company to go out of business, it does happen from time to time.
"First, there were rumors that one of the talents used to do compensated dating, that they debuted a yakuza's daughter with a gyaru concept to launder her identity, that one confessed to a producer, got rejected, had a mental breakdown, and caused a self-harm commotion during a members-only stream..."
"..."
"And the worst one was that the CEO gambled away all the money meant for the employees on pachinko. Is that true?"
"As if."
Slander.
"It wasn't pachinko. Not pachinko."
"...So he did lose the money."
"It turned out that way."
"You didn't know?"
"If I had known, do you think I'd be sitting here like this?"
Of course, some parts weren't complete slander, but rather defamation based on facts.
"Then what was it? Everyone is completely in the dark, so they don't understand."
"Off the record, possible? After signing an NDA."
"I'd have to keep it confidential? Then I don't want to hear it."
"I'm kidding. It's not that serious."
"Forget it. If I hear it, I'll probably just end up worrying more."
A wise friend.
I didn't particularly want to share the story of how the VTuber company collapsed due to issues involving the Japanese yakuza, politicians, and the casting couch.
...To protect their honor, I should say, nothing of the sort happened.
The CEO just twisted himself into knots trying to avoid it, and in the end, both he and the company simply vanished.
He was a good person, the CEO.
He struggled with the problem alone until the company finally imploded.
"Hey. So you're completely unemployed now, huh?"
"Not completely unemployed. Wouldn't you call me a full-time investor?"
"Unemployed."
"...I have way more money than you, you know?"
"Hey, if you bought a damn house in Gangnam with crypto, you can at least buy me a meal!"
"Hey."
You have to watch what you say, anytime, anywhere.
Look.
As soon as the conversation switched from the VTuber industry to a house in Gangnam, didn't the people at the next table perk up their ears?
"Anyway, I'm not unemployed."
"A resting youth?"
"...If I wanted a job, I could get one anytime."
"Ah, that's probably true. Aren't all the VTuber companies looking for you?"
My friend pointed at my smartphone.
"You're the guy who made it possible for all the talents to keep using their characters after the company collapsed, right? I'm sure it cost money, but from a viewer's perspective, you're the one who saved their 'oshi' from having to reincarnate and let them keep streaming. Aren't you getting calls from the number one agency and others?"
"..."
"For real?"
"A little."
My friend's expression stiffened.
From that subtle change in her expression, I could guess the real reason she'd come to see me today.
"You haven't been scouted already, have you?"
"I've gotten offers. All the kids who went indie have talked to me."
"What kind of talk? Asking you to join them?"
"Yeah. Saying they'll be the CEO, asking me to keep working with them."
"..."
"That's why I turned them all down and came here."
"Right. If a bunch of VTubers started a knife fight over one producer, that would be a mess on a whole other level compared to a company going under."
"They're not like that."
Probably.
"If you have something to say, just say it."
"Hey. Want to come work for my company?"
I told her to get to the point, and she went straight for the conclusion.
"Your company? Aren't you guys a virtual reality tech company? Why me?"
"To scout the producer who took talents with less than 10,000 subscribers and grew them to hundreds of thousands, of course."
My acquaintance handed me a business card.
In this moment, she wasn't my high school and college classmate, but a talent scout leveraging her connections.
"Our company is about to start a new project, and we're looking to create something with a virtual idol concept."
"Virtual idols? Not VTubers?"
"Yeah. Virtual idols. The main focus isn't on being a VTuber, but on K-pop idols performing in a VTuber format."
"Ah, like them?"
"Yeah. Blaze, Lion Guys."
Idol producing, huh.
"What's the advantage of VTubers... and virtual idols? You don't need to fly a chartered plane to a venue; you can perform anywhere through holographic projection, right?"
"...The technology has certainly come a long way."
"Yeah. When we were kids, in middle and high school, VTuber concerts were just people in full-body trackers performing on a VR map."
"Full-body tracking is still pretty much the same now, isn't it?"
"Hehehe."
It's not a bad offer.
I knew her company was backed by a major corporation, so their funding would be solid.
I also knew they possessed a significant amount of virtual reality technology.
In this era of 2035, it was no exaggeration to call them a leader in the virtual reality market.
"To start with the salary, I can get you as much as I make."
"How much do you make?"
"One billion won, including bonuses."
"Nice lie."
"It's true. Our company is taking this project very seriously."
"...A billion won."
A salary of one billion won.
It was, of course, a tempting offer.
"It's a good offer."
However.
"Is it a girl group?"
"It's a boy group."
"Then I can't do it."
Just as I thought.
"No wonder you threw out a billion won. I'd rather build a VTuber from the ground up and have them earn a billion a year. I can't do boy groups."
"Even if they're virtual?"
"Especially because they're virtual. Anyway, thanks for the offer. But I plan on taking a year off."
"What? A whole year? Taking a year off in this industry means..."
"I know it means I'll likely fall behind and get pushed out, but I worked at a toxic company for too long. I'm planning to get a house in the countryside and rest for a year."
"Your, uh, hometown is... Ah, never mind. If it's a health issue, I can't argue. In any case..."
Clink.
"Welcome back to Korea."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The company went bankrupt.
Financially, I had made some successful investments, so I had more than enough to live on without needing to work.
And so I bought a house in a small provincial city, in a secluded, villa-like area.
The room I put the most effort into was none other than the broadcasting room.
More money went into it than the remodeling costs for the entire mansion, and it was perfectly set up for internet broadcasting.
Now, with this—
Flash!
A light burst forth from the basement of the house.
I thought a flashbang might have gone off, but the light was a strange, iridescent rainbow.
"...?"
The basement.
The remodeled storage room was a mess, as if a storm had torn through it, and at its center, a figure lay collapsed on the floor.
"..."
A woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a white dress.
...
After coming to Korea and getting a house in a quiet, rural area.
I picked up a VTuber.
"Ugh... The dimensional transfer magic... was it a success...?"
Correction.
An archmage who claims to be from another world.
...
"Have I been working too much lately?"
If my first thought was that she had the perfect design to be a VTuber, maybe I really was too obsessed with my job.
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