Individuality
To be honest, I'd gotten cocky.
No—more precisely, I'd underestimated this whole virtual idol scene.
I figured, what kind of sane person would put on a 2D mask and stream like that?
Turns out, plenty.
Some came with cheap avatars yet sang with professional-level vocals. Others belted out tough musical numbers with ease.
And apparently the world was full of people with amazing voices.
Female Soo-hyun's looks and voice gave me confidence, sure. But in this world, I couldn't use looks.
Relying on voice alone wasn't enough—these contestants weren't pushovers.
I scraped through the first round, but the sense of crisis hit me hard.
"…Am I going to get crushed like this?"
When I thought about it, even if female Soo-hyun knew a lot, it was all from a viewer's perspective. And the foundation beneath it all was still me—male Soo-hyun—who barely knew this industry.
No, I couldn't keep going like this.
I needed to build a character—something distinctly mine.
I understood the basics: female Soo-hyun's avatar was designed as a playful, teasing older-sister type. But it still felt lacking.
This wasn't just about being a Vtuber. It was an idol audition.
If I didn't have the strongest singing skills, I had to make up for it in other ways. Personality. Flavor. Something that would hook viewers right away.
"So… what should it be?"
Female Soo-hyun had assumed things would just work out, never expecting the competition to be this tough. So she hadn't prepared a hook.
"It has to be something men like."
The core audience of Vtubers was, obviously, men.
And not just any men—shut-in otaku guys who'd throw money at a 2D anime girl on their screen.
I racked my brain for what would appeal to them.
First off: points of relatability.
That was easy enough—female Soo-hyun had been a hardcore otaku herself. I just had to let that part shine through.
But if I overdid it, it could come off as fake and repel them instead.
"Damn… this is harder than I thought."
So much for Vtubing being easy.
I slumped back in my chair, cigarette between my lips.
"…Not in here."
I stood up and went outside.
Sometimes the urge hit to just smoke in my room, but I knew better. Once you lit up indoors, there was no going back. Clothes, curtains, everything soaked up the smell, and soon the place would be littered with butts.
I'd seen enough of my friends' filthy apartments to know better.
So I gave myself credit for dragging my ass outside again. I stepped into a narrow alley near my studio apartment, crouched down, and lit up.
As a guy, crouching like this usually made me topple over. But in this body? Perfect balance. Honestly, it was the most comfortable way to smoke.
Nicotine filled my lungs, and just as I exhaled in bliss, a shadow fell over me.
"…?"
I turned at the sound of footsteps. A man hovered there awkwardly.
"Um… excuse me, I live in this villa."
He gestured toward the building right next to the alley. Startled, I stubbed out my cigarette and stood up.
"Oh—did the smoke get inside? I'm really sorry."
I hadn't even thought about that. But with female Soo-hyun's non-smoker memories in my head, I knew how infuriating it could be. So I apologized right away.
The man waved his hands.
"N-no! I smoke too, it's fine!"
"…Then why…"
And then it hit me—not from his looks, but from his behavior.
The fidgeting fingers, the sidelong glances, the phone clutched in his hand.
Male Soo-hyun had no clue. But female Soo-hyun's mental database spat out the answer instantly.
And right on cue—
"Um, since we've met like this… could I maybe get your number—"
"Sorry, I have something urgent. Gotta go."
I bolted.
"…What the fuck."
Sure, female Soo-hyun had memories of this kind of thing happening often. But living it was something else entirely. It was gross.
"…Where the hell am I supposed to smoke now?"
Should I just switch to vapes and smoke indoors?
But nothing hit like the burn of a cigarette. Ugh.
Still, I realized something important.
Female Soo-hyun was the kind of person men would ask for her number even while crouched outside their house smoking.
That's right.
With a face like this, no matter what she did—even smoking in front of someone's door—men would still feel attraction.
Why had I forgotten that?
And a voice was a second face. Behavior, a third.
Which meant just being myself—no, just being her—was enough to hook men.
All I had to do was casually drop bits of female Soo-hyun's experiences, and the viewers would fill in the rest with their own imaginations.
And if they found out the truth someday? Even better.
Not that I planned to get exposed. But with looks like this? That'd be the ultimate cheat code.
I walked back to my apartment, confidence restored.
Tonight was the second round: the interview.
At first, I'd thought I needed to craft a persona. But I threw that idea out.
A mask slapped together last-minute only cracks and crumbles.
Instead, I'd just answer honestly, drawing from female Soo-hyun's memories.
That was the plan.
…At least, it had been.
But when I closed my eyes and clamped my lips shut, the interviewer's question boomed from the speakers.
["Do you have an anime or manga you'd consider your life's masterpiece?"]
Female Soo-hyun's answer would have been Demon Slayer—it was all the rage lately, a record-breaking hit.
But…
"…That feels kinda shallow, doesn't it?"
Honestly, weren't Rurouni Kenshin or Bleach better sword-fighting series?
Plenty of works had higher artistry by my standards.
For female Soo-hyun, who only followed the newest, flashiest shows, Demon Slayer really was a masterpiece. She'd even cried watching it—idiot.
But in my memories—those old afternoons at the manga café with the neighborhood guys, trading battered volumes back and forth—
No. There was only one possible answer.
I leaned into the mic and dropped the title that lived in my head.
"…Slam Dunk."
Female Soo-hyun, step aside.
You shallow scrub.
"Ah, the recent movie adaptation, right? Did it leave an impression on you?"
Tae-san, one of the interviewers for the Celestial Project and a mid-tier streamer himself, nodded at Miro's reply.
Slam Dunk, huh? Respect.
In his thirties now, he remembered passing the manga around with his classmates back in the day. And with the recent film, the name had regained traction.
"No, I haven't seen the film. Just the manga."
Not even relying on the movie—just the manga? Pure fundamentals. Tae-san nodded again, impressed. The chat exploded.
Lmao, based.
That's pure roots.
What is this, grandpa taste?
Smells like dentures, lol.
Slam Dunk's a classic, though.
The movie was solid, though.
Hmm, fair enough.
"Oh… Miro, you're the first contestant to choose Slam Dunk as your life's masterpiece. Any particular reason?"
Tae-san tossed the next prepared question. But Miro's response came out… odd.
"…Wait, haven't you read Slam Dunk yourself, judge?"
"Eh? Yes, of course I have."
"Then why even ask for the reason?"
…The hell? Is this kid cracked?
Tae-san froze for a second. But he was no rookie—he was a seasoned streamer with years under his belt.
So he grinned and volleyed the banter right back.
"Well, I personally rank Dragon Ball higher. What about you—know your manga?"
Normally, in a formal audition, no contestant would dare talk to an interviewer like this. But this wasn't a polished talent show—it was a scrappy, live-streamed event.
And honestly, the Q&A had gotten boring. A little banter might liven things up.
"Well, I'd say I'm the most well-versed in this stuff out of everyone here."
"Oh? Confident, huh?"
"Yes. Certified Manjalar." (manga expert)
Miro's avatar stayed stoic as always. But behind the screen, Kim Soo-hyun was grinning.
Impulsive, sure. But wasn't this turning into a pretty damn good character?
Thank god this streamer knew how to play along.