I May Be a Virtual Youtuber, but I Still Go to Work-Chapter 159

The moment Team Leader Ra Seunghyun and the entire planning team got involved, a detailed stream layout and schedule came together in an instant.

In addition, the debut timeline for the second-generation members was thoroughly revised.

Next weekend, Saturday, July 14.

The <Mutiny Cooking Showdown> between me and the CEO.

The second-gen members will participate as guest judges, evaluating each dish with handwritten comments and briefly revealing their voices during the closing segment.

Then the following week, Sunday, July 22.

Member Z pages go live, profiles are set, and silhouettes are posted in an illustrated teaser.

At the same time, teaser videos for the second-gen members will be uploaded to the official website, fan café, and YouTube, along with an announcement of each debut schedule for fans.

The official channel will upload congratulatory videos from the first-gen members throughout the week—Monday through Thursday—while the second-gen members complete corporate account verification procedures behind the scenes.

Friday, July 27.

The members will post their first social media updates, marking the beginning of active communication with fans.

The next day, July 28, the three of them will each conduct a one-hour debut stream.

On July 29, I’ll host a short group collab stream as MC.

Before the stream ends, we’ll watch their first original group song video together—this will conclude the second-gen debut schedule. The first-gen will have their own separate stream.

For a month afterward, the new members will follow their pre-set schedules, getting closer with fans and solidifying their RP.

Then, in the second month, they’ll gradually increase joint streams with senior members.

Starting from the third month, they’ll appear in external collabs and begin to operate as full-fledged VTubers.

Each will also aim to release their own original song around this time.

In the case of Bachubachu, external activity usually starts a bit later after debut.

Thanks to the massive fanbase of this VTuber empire, even without external collabs, they benefit from a guaranteed audience—truly a trickle-down effect.

In a way, it’s very similar to the Shared Spoon Phenomenon—

A portion of the existing fanbase watches both their oshis and the newcomers, then suddenly switches over to the youngest ones.

Of course, we’ve changed a lot compared to before too.

Midori Komari, 467k.

Aoyagi Rain, 486k.

Akari Dora, 583k.

Nezumi Maru, 619k.

An average of 539k subscribers watching over them—

On debut day, all four of them will gather to watch the stream together, so the second-gen's starting point won’t be nearly as stressful as the first-gen's.

Well, even with that, we’re still far behind compared to the star-studded senior lineup of Bachubachu.

But still—this isn’t nothing.

Newcomers starting with this kind of background are rare.

At this point, if you say, “I’m a VTuber with Parallel,” people will go, “Whoa, you made it into one of the top-tier domestic agencies!”

You’ve reached a level worthy of recognition.

Even in the cooking showdown between me and the CEO, if you can each showcase your unique flavor through the limited medium of handwritten comments, then the second-gen will debut under solid expectations.

This is a chance to start from a higher point, second-gen.

Let’s go!

***

The detailed debut schedule was shared with the second-gen members the next day.

Back on the 9th floor of the office where their training took place, the members gathered again for the first time in weeks, reminiscing about their time in lessons.

Upon hearing the confirmed debut plans, they didn’t hesitate to show their flustered reactions.

The main reason, obviously, was that only the three of them were listed in the debut stream schedule.

“Gia... you’re not debuting with us?”

Now that I think about it... had I ever told them the truth? I might’ve glossed over it, saying I was debuting too.

I assumed it was obvious, especially after recent content appearances made it pretty clear I wasn’t graduating nor a second-gen member.

Maybe they just trusted me too much. Or maybe they were so deep in debut prep they hadn’t watched any streams or community posts.

The three of them still hadn’t caught on at all.

This is why companies need to be cautious even when lying to their own talent.

You accidentally end up pulling a hidden camera prank.

The most betrayed-looking one, Eona, asked again.

“Look... I won’t get mad, just tell us properly. We need to know so we don’t mess up during the broadcast.”

I nodded with a blank expression.

“Yeah. I’m not debuting.”

Miho and Orca exchanged a whisper,

“I knew it. My deduction was correct! I told you it was weird Gia unnie never came to record the debut song.”

“You really are good at this. I see you in a new light.”

“...Hehe.”

Then Eona burst out in frustration.

“Then why’d you say you were debuting...? I was so excited thinking we’d stream together...”

“You all kept asking over and over if I was debuting, so before I knew it, I just blurted out a lie.”

“You liar...”

I glanced over at the other two to see how they’d react.

Orca, who had been shedding her soldier persona, suddenly returned to stiff, formal posture.

“Ch-Chief Manager! I’ll be in your care moving forward!”

Since we’d made a pact to speak casually with each other, I jabbed her in the side to loosen her up.

“Eek!”

“We agreed to drop honorifics, remember? If you don’t want to be friends, just say so.”

“No, it’s not that... It’s just, if we’re not debut mates, you feel like a senior...”

“Doesn’t matter. Just treat me the same. Even the first-gen members don’t use honorifics with me anymore, and that makes it easier for me.”

Eona jumped in, clearly still bothered.

“That’s easier said than done. The weight we feel between debut mates and the operations team staff is completely different.”

She gave me a look like she wanted more explanation, so I shrugged to lighten the mood.

“Let’s just clear up the facts, shall we? First off, how this happened. I told you before that I wasn’t debuting. You guys were the ones fueling the fire, insisting I was.”

None of them could deny that.

“I was trying to wrap it up and move on, but you kept asking. I got tired of denying it, so I just went along with it. I don’t know if apologizing now is the right move, but... sorry.”

It was the kind of apology that would annoy the hell out of someone hearing it.

But it is what it is.

Think about it—Regon still thinks I’m just some office worker doing roleplay. People believe what they want to believe.

Even if I’d firmly denied it back then, they probably wouldn’t have accepted it.

But hey, in the end, they got to this point on their own and accepted it, didn’t they?

Still, even with everyone nodding in understanding, they couldn’t completely hide their nervousness about me not debuting.

Miho was the first to panic and ask,

“We prepared so many things to do with you... So that’s all scrapped now? We can’t do anything? No way. I even added collabs with you to our schedule for the whole first month!”

“No, we can still do those. I’ve been increasing the number of collabs I appear in lately, so most of the stuff you wanted to do should still be possible.”

“Really? Whew, thank goodness.”

Eona shook her head and muttered,

“This isn’t something to be happy about. Debuting in the same generation and staying on as staff are two completely different things.”

“Uh... really?”

“Of course. If you’re not purely a VTuber, it’s harder to even invite you to collabs. We have to consider what the senior members think, and even what the CEO might say. Ugh... I thought we’d get to have you all to ourselves for at least a month...”

Someone’s got a strong attachment to exclusivity.

And coming from Eona—the only one among the second-gen with VTuber experience, someone capable of leading her peers on her own—it really made me wonder just how important I was in their schedule planning.

“It’s not like you can’t stream without me. You three can totally handle things on your own.”

“But three people versus four makes a big difference. There are tons of games we just can’t play unless there are four of us. And the 2:2 team content? We’d have to push all of that back.”

“That’s what I’m saying—just call me.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight

“Sorry, Gia, but if you’re not one of our generation, there’s no way we can act like it’s nothing... We’re the juniors of Parallel, after all.”

And she wasn’t wrong.

Telling someone not to be self-conscious or to just relax is easier said than done.

Look at Orca—she instantly went back to formal speech the second she learned I wasn’t debuting.

To the second-gen, I was basically the company president’s daughter.

Handing out all-access passes wouldn’t change that.

Even the first-gen members barely use theirs. Do you really think the second-gen will eagerly snatch one up?

Seniority rules—they’d probably wait for the first-gen to use them first anyway.

Still, thanks to what Team Leader Ra and the CEO had said, it wasn’t impossible to ease the tension among the deflated members.

“After the second-gen debuts, let’s keep Gia’s appearances focused on them for about a month. What do you think, CEO?”

“I agree. Gia’s the only one who can give them a boost without interfering with their RP.”

“You heard that, Section Manager Magia? It’s time to do what you’re best at—fade into the background during collabs while making sure the members shine.”

A month to establish their identities.

For that one month, I could freely stick with the second-gen.

Fan_C’s original and cover songs were all scheduled to be recorded before their debut, so I’d be free to give them my full attention.

“I’ve already talked to the CEO. For the month after debut, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ treat me like one of your genmates. You don’t need to change any schedules that include me. Unless it overlaps with a recurring content like Fantasia, I’ll be there.”

Miho, reassured that there’d be no changes to her schedule, nodded even faster than before, clearly relieved.

Orca, realizing she still couldn’t boss me around freely, folded her hands in front of her chest and peeked up at me cautiously.

Only Eona, the most rational of the group at the moment, tossed out another question.

“Then... is it okay to include you in pairings?”

“Pairings, huh...”

“Our seniors have those too—Mari and Maru are the Headlock Duo, Dora and Mari have Gaming Suit, Maru and Dora are the Rolling Boulder, Rain and Mari are Double Parking... Stuff like that. First-gen members built all these dynamics between each other.”

Pairings are born from member chemistry.

Usually, they form slowly—after a few months post-debut, once each member has established their own identity and starts doing collabs.

Even fans of regular idol groups treat pairings like a natural part of the fandom experience, so it’s no different in the corporate VTuber world where groups debut together.

Take Bachubachu, for example.

They have over sixty VTubers under their brand globally, which means an overwhelming number of potential pairings.

Trying to keep track of who’s paired with who would be impossible.

With so many interactions between genmates, seniors, and juniors, new pairings pop up and vanish constantly.

Maybe it was Eona’s past experience with Lapits or just her genuine interest in VTuber culture, but she seemed ready to start weaving relationships between the second-gen members from the get-go.

“Not doing pairings is a waste. Just don’t pour all your energy into them right from the start—you could lose your own presence if you’re not careful.”

“Yeah. I know. Still, thanks for pointing it out.”

“While we’re at it, for the cooking showdown, you and the others need to pick the theme dishes for me and the CEO to make. We’ll reveal the reasoning behind your choices on stream, so try to find a good angle with it.”

Miho raised her hand eagerly.

“I’m not really a foodie, so... can I submit something like, ‘A dish I’d want to eat in the car with unnie during a stakeout’?”

Stakeout food and Miho’s detective-obsessed personality?

Not a bad combo.

I might end up playing the Watson role. Approved. freeweɓnøvel.com

“That’s fine. That kind of setup actually makes for fun content.”

“Ooh! Got it! I’ll go with that!”

Next up was Orca.

“What about something like, a dish that melts away all the fatigue from training?”

“Orca, your tone.”

“Ah.”

Orca equals the military. The military equals a hellish life.

Depending on what she asks us to make, I might end up as her mom back home or her personal army cook. Still, approved.

“The idea’s solid. You can submit that as is.”

“Okay. Got it.”

“What about you, Eona? Got anything in mind?”

When I looked over at her, she leaned in with a playful smile and whispered in my ear,

“How about... a dish I’d want to serve when proposing to someone?”