Mimi was originally an alien zebra living on the Zebra Planet.
However, while traveling through space in a spaceship, she crash-landed in South Korea.
Afterward, she absorbed the energy contained in the moonlight of Earth and became human.
This was the description written under a picture of a girl.
Just as the description claimed, the girl had zebra ears and a tail, as if proving that she was originally a zebra.
What should I even call this?
A beast-girl?
Other than the tail and ears attached to her body, she looked completely human.
But I couldn’t hold back the urge to nitpick while looking at the explanation and picture of “Mimi.”
A beast-girl?
Isn’t this exactly the kind of character furries would love?
Unable to suppress my irritation, I turned to the person who was watching and spoke up.
“…Isn’t this setting way too bizarre? So if someone likes this ‘Mimi’ and feels sexual attraction toward her, that makes them a furry, right? That includes you too… You sick perverted degenerates. Disgusting.”
And then, as if a siren had gone off, a loud wee-woo noise rang out, and something appeared in front of me.
<WARNING!>
Personal attacks and criticism towards specific VTubers and their fans may result in penalties.
Please be careful!
This time, it was nothing more than a simple warning message.
But perhaps because of the fear I had felt earlier, I couldn’t help but flinch for a moment.
“Alright, alright. I’ll be careful. Happy now?”
Even though my response was half-hearted and curt, the system window didn’t issue any further warnings.
So they’re strict as hell when it comes to direct insults toward VTubers, but they’ll let this kind of thing slide?
Grumbling to myself, I continued my research.
So, what am I doing right now?
I was learning about VTubers with the help of the system window.
After losing a battle of wills against the system and surrendering, I had genuinely decided to become a VTuber.
I took a leave of absence from university, ordered a new computer, and half-committed myself to a reclusive lifestyle.
I made up a vague excuse to my family, saying I had something I wanted to do.
Since my family was well-off, they didn’t question me much and just accepted it.
The time limit given by the system was 10 years. Not short, but not exactly long either.
If I wanted to reach my goal, it was best to start streaming as soon as possible.
Whether I liked it or not, I had decided to become a VTuber.
That meant research had to come first.
Right now, I barely even knew what a VTuber was.
There was no way I could just jump into streaming blindly in this situation.
So, I was learning step by step according to the system’s instructions.
Judging from the nickname it gave my channel, the system was clearly a hardcore VTuber otaku.
The knowledge it provided about VTubers included things only real experts would know.
It was like an encyclopedia—whenever I asked why something was a certain way, an answer immediately followed.
Thanks to that, learning about VTubers wasn’t too difficult.
The system was practically glued to my side, acting like a tour guide and teaching me everything from the basics.
If I had to compare, it felt like I was studying from a Beginner’s Guide to VTubing.
Right now, I was going through a list of famous VTubers one by one—starting with Japanese VTubers and then moving on to well-known Korean ones.
“Hmm…”
Watching these VTubers waving their avatars, interacting with viewers, and singing during their streams, a thought crossed my mind.
“This seems doable.”
Sure, their main content revolved around responding to the audience’s ego-driven nonsense, but I actually had some streaming experience.
I wasn’t a complete newbie.
I wasn’t confident in singing or acting cute like many VTubers did, but I was confident in my ability to communicate.
The fact that I was formerly a man—that was my only unique advantage compared to other VTubers.
Most of the internet streaming audience was male.
And if anyone could understand the minds of men, it was me, a former man myself.
In short, I knew exactly what the viewers wanted.
Since internet streaming was essentially a service industry, if I could read and cater to the needs of my main audience, I could get ahead of other VTubers.
My general plan was to emphasize my strength in communication.
If I stuck to that, eventually, I’d find a breakthrough.
Still, whether I could actually reach the so-called “VTuber Emperor” rank the system set as my goal… that was another story.
“2.18 million subscribers, 3.24 million… You’re seriously telling me to beat these monsters?”
Looking at these VTuber channels, I had no idea how they even built up such massive audiences.
It was awe-inspiring.
According to the system, these were top-tier VTubers—ranked among the top five worldwide.
But if I wanted to complete my mission, I had to surpass them all.
I hadn’t even hit 100,000 subscribers before—hell, not even 10,000—so this task felt overwhelmingly impossible.
<Special Mission!>
Become the King of All VTubers—The VTuber Emperor!
Time limit: 10 years
Failure penalty: Death
<Conditions for the VTuber Emperor Title!>
Rank #1 in the world in VTuber subscriber count or
Rank #1 in concurrent live stream viewers
As if answering my question, the system displayed this message again.
“So that’s your response, huh?”
It really expected me to surpass these people.
Or maybe it believed I could.
“Fine. Let’s see what happens. I’ll aim for this ‘VTuber Emperor’ thing.”
Might as well think positively.
If you can’t avoid it, you might as well enjoy it.
Ten years is a long time.
There has to be some way to make this work.
Even if I can’t become the ultimate “VTuber Emperor,” maybe I could settle for something a little lower… like, I don’t know, “VTuber King” or “VTuber Duke”?
And so, I became a VTuber.
“Huh…?”
In just six months, I had become a small-time VTuber with an average of 30 viewers.
“Thank you for watching today’s stream! Everyone, have a good night!”
[Good night!]
[Mia, sleep well!]
[Goodnight!]
[Wish you didn’t have to leave so soon]
After exchanging goodbyes with my few but loyal viewers, I ended the stream.
Then came the silence.
Many streamers say they feel an emptiness after logging off—a hollow loneliness that leads to depression.
I could understand why.
However, the reason I was sitting here in silence wasn’t entirely because of that.
“…Status window. Give me today’s stream stats.”
Slumping back into my gaming chair, I mumbled in a drained voice.
Immediately, a translucent blue window materialized before my eyes.
[VTuber Mia’s Live Stream – Day 183 Report]
Total stream time: 6 hours 32 minutes 14 seconds
Average viewers: 32
Total chat messages: 211
Global VTuber ranking: 232,476th
<Special Mission!>
Become the King of All VTubers—The VTuber Emperor!
Time remaining: 10 years
Failure penalty: Death
Current survival rate: 0.2%
This was a statistics function that had developed as I continued streaming.
According to the status window, more features would unlock the longer I stayed active as a VTuber.
What was this, some kind of RPG system where the status window levels up alongside the player?
Ridiculous.
Regardless, one thing was immediately clear from these numbers—something was going horribly wrong.
I already felt it without needing to check the stats, but seeing them in front of me made it undeniable.
“This isn’t working… Is Mia’s channel really okay like this?”
By the way, my VTuber alias was Mia.
I had chosen the name because my past self—the man I used to be—had disappeared, like someone who had “gone missing.”
Mia was short for “missing.”
Looking back, it was a half-assed name.
Maybe that was part of the problem.
It didn’t roll off the tongue well, nor did it have a catchy ring to it.
That might have played a role in why my channel wasn’t growing.
“Did I underestimate VTubing…?”
After brooding for a while, I came to a clear conclusion—this wasn’t going to work.
Even if I kept streaming for another year, two years, or three, I could already tell nothing significant would change.
I would still be a small-time VTuber.
I wouldn’t even come close to the “VTuber Emperor” status that the system demanded.
I needed change—something drastic enough to flip the situation overnight.
That’s when my eyes landed on something.
<YOU TOO CAN BECOME AN IDOL!>
Star Records 3rd Generation VTuber Auditions
Seeking hidden gems! Join now!
This was something the status window had once suggested to me as an alternative path—joining a VTuber agency.
The VTuber industry had expanded significantly, with numerous companies sprouting up not just internationally, but in Korea as well.
Six months ago, when I first started, I wanted to work alone.
The idea of belonging to a company or dealing with others felt suffocating.
But now?
This wasn’t working.
I needed something—anything—to turn the tide.
“This might be it…”
Like a drowning person grasping at straws, I submitted my application.