Chapter 112: The Weight of Fun and the Price of Ambition

“W-Wait… Akane-senpai. You’re way too strong. Just how hard have you been grinding this game?”

“Akane isn’t a senpai. She’s the Demon King.”

It had been a few days since the Demon King event occurred.

Mai rested her chin on her hand as she skimmed through various highlight clips.

At this point, most of the Novelive members had joined the Life Server.

Because of that, it was almost guaranteed to be popular.

Still, just having all the members participate only ensured minimum success.

Whether something truly became a hit depended on how entertaining the content was—and the fans who checked out the Life Server this time were thoroughly impressed.

All thanks to Akane.

If Akane hadn’t suddenly gone wild, there wouldn’t be such an explosion of highlight clips being mass-produced like this.

[Novelive] Akane conspiring with a shady mastermind [Yukimura Akane]

Mai narrowed her eyes.

She clicked the video, and it showed Akane talking to a suspicious-looking woman wearing a black robe.

She checked the comments.

– Akane seems close lol
– Where’s Yurim-chan who used to hang with Mai? Why’s Darkness-chan showing up now?
┗Isn’t that a clone spell?

The other videos were more or less the same.

Akane fighting Novelive members, Akane doing roleplay scenes with Novelive members, Akane slaughtering Novelive members…

Every video revolved around Akane.

After scanning through all the highlight clips, Mai glanced at the time and put on her VR headset.

Having completed her investigation, she now had a pretty good idea of what concept to go with.

Right now, the Life Server was rallying around a single purpose: defeating Akane.

And the one at the center of it all was Yozorane Minaz.

If Akane was the Demon King and the founding legend, then Yozorane Minaz was the successor threatening her throne.

Akane was in such a dominant position that she was called the First Emperor, but aside from being the “founder,” Minaz wasn’t lacking compared to her at all.

In terms of gameplay, viewer numbers, all kinds of stats—and most of all, streaming sense—Minaz was quite similar to Akane.

There were even plenty of people saying that the younger Minaz would soon catch up to Akane.

Just as many people argued that a single year’s age gap couldn’t close such a gap in status, making it a true neck-and-neck race.

A few days ago—right after the Demon King event happened—Minaz had a major showdown with Akane.

Naturally, Akane won, but the listeners who watched Minaz struggle and resist fiercely began calling her the hero of the Life Server.

A legend vs. a successor.

It was the kind of magic formula that could multiply the audience even for a globally successful sport with over 10 billion dollars in revenue.

In other words, the heart of this server was about how flashy the duels between Minaz and Akane could be, and the rest of the members would play their roles accordingly, like in the WWE.

This was a streamer-oriented server, after all.

Knowing how to read the room and act to make things more entertaining was standard etiquette.

So in this situation, the role Mai had to play was obvious.

A lovable senior with a bit of a clumsy side—someone easy to tease.

It wasn’t much different from her usual persona.

If she adopted that concept and threw in the occasional comment from the sidelines, the rest would revolve naturally around Minaz and Akane.

Mai logged into the game and opened her eyes inside an abandoned factory.

“Mai-unni, you’re here already?”

Han Yurim chirped from beside her.

Mai opened the bookmarked tab for Han Yurim’s stream.

Offline. Looks like she wasn’t streaming yet.

At some point, Han Yurim had started streaming only sporadically.

When the Life Server first launched, she had diligently streamed twelve hours a day, every day.

But after a few days of that, she either didn’t go live at all or streamed for just a few hours before cutting it short.

Since she always welcomed Mai whenever she logged in, it was clear she was still playing the game. But what could she possibly be doing that kept her so busy?

…No, now she understood.

Of course she was busy—she had been pulling strings behind the scenes.

Well, that worked out nicely.

Before Mai turned on her own stream, she decided to say what she’d been meaning to.

“Nice direction. They say you’re a super developer, huh?”

“Mai-unni, what are you talking about now?”

“So you’re not a super developer?”

“I am a super developer. But what direction are you talking about?”

Beginner’s guide to using Han Yurim.

Mention the phrase “super developer.”

That increases the chances of her giving the answer you want.

“You’ve been pulling the strings behind the scenes, haven’t you? Thanks to you, Akane, Minaz, the other members, and even the viewers are all having a great time.”

“I didn’t pull any strings. I just stirred the darkness in their hearts.”

“But how do you manage to do two things at once? From the clips, it looks like you were talking to Akane at the same time you were with me.”

“For a super developer, that’s easy.”

“Clone magic?”

“That’s one name for it.”

As expected—it was clone magic.

Well, that made sense. This was the same Han Yurim who had freely manipulated Thierry’s ultimate water-element derivative spell, [Doppelganger], in extreme battles.

There was no way she couldn’t handle clone magic in a relatively laid-back RP server like this.

“You said you didn’t know any magic, though.”

“Sigh… Mai-nim. Isn’t ‘a naïve child harboring a secret’ one of the most classic clichés ever?”

“You weren’t naïve though.”

“What do you mean? Mai-unni, Yurim-chan is pure and innocent.”

Han Yurim switched back into her Yurim-chan mode. In that state, she stuck to her roleplay so seriously that it was almost impossible to have a proper conversation with her.

Since that signaled the end of the conversation, Mai began adjusting the settings to prepare for the stream.

“Mai-nim. So what about you, Mai-nim?”

—And then she flinched at Han Yurim’s sudden question.

Mai, still frozen in place, only moved her lips.

“What about Mai?”

“You said Akane-nim, Minaz-nim, and the listeners liked it. But you didn’t say how you felt about it.”

“Mai is…”

Mai trailed off.

She didn’t really know.

Was this situation fun, or not?

Was it good, or not?

She had been so focused on the stream that she hadn’t had time to think about those things.

“Does it even matter?”

Streaming was entertainment. Acting. A lie.

The streamer’s emotions weren’t all that important.

At least, that’s what Mai believed.

Some people say the stream is more fun when the streamer enjoys themselves, but… Mai didn’t agree.

Changing the output just because the situation changed—that wasn’t professional. A pro delivered the same results no matter how hard things got, or how boring it was.

Because that was a matter of respect toward the listeners.

“No. It does matter. It’s important.”

But Han Yurim responded firmly.

So firmly, in fact, that it was a little surprising.

“Why?”

No matter what I’m thinking, whether I’m enjoying the stream or bored out of my mind, whether I like it or not—it’s none of your business, Han Yurim.

You don’t even care.

Do you?

To that unspoken question, Han Yurim casually flicked her finger.

As if to say, “Wow. You don’t even know something that basic? Disappointing.”

“Because I’m a Super Developer. If there’s a player who isn’t enjoying the game, it’s my duty to figure out why and fix it. So? How was it? Did you enjoy it?”

Mai gave a short laugh at Han Yurim’s words.

There it was again. That damn ‘Super Developer’ talk.

Seriously. The guy never changed.

Mai slowly opened her mouth.

“It wasn’t fun.”

“Oh dear.”

“Mai was kinda looking forward to being tied up with the Playmer family, you know? But you just wiped it out overnight. What’s up with that?”

“I didn’t wipe it out. Akane-nim did.”

“And also, Mai prefers goofing around with juniors. Not this end-of-the-world doom and gloom vibe.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she spoke her mind so honestly.

And thanks to that, she felt refreshed.

‘…Feels like I vented like this back in Okinawa, too.’

When she was in front of this guy Han Yurim, everything else just seemed meaningless.

Worries, social expectations, even reading the mood—all of it.

Feeling light, Mai stretched and parted her lips again.

“All right. That’s it. Mai doesn’t care anymore. I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

“Excellent choice. Do you need my help?”

“Yup. Help me, Yurim-chan.”

As mentioned, Novalive was home to all sorts of people.

People overflowing with ambition, people who just wanted to go slow and steady, people who barely put effort into streaming, people who gave it their all, entertaining people, boring people, people with talent, people without it.

Among them, Yozora’s Minaz was one of the ambitious ones.

In the VTuber world, there’s a concept called reincarnation.

It means throwing away your old avatar and account and starting over with a new one. Normally, this means abandoning everything you built up before.

You’re not even allowed to mention anything from your previous persona.

Minaz was a VTuber who had gone through such a reincarnation.

And what’s more—she had done it while having over 500,000 subscribers as an independent VTuber.

There were many pros to joining Novalive, but just as many cons.

First off, revenue. As an indie, you got to keep 100% of your profits, but under a corporation, the earnings had to be split.

Not to mention content restrictions, and all sorts of other downsides.

So even if Novalive offered much stronger promotional support, anyone with a solid 500k indie base would usually hesitate.

But when the opportunity came, Minaz jumped in without hesitation.

Because being indie had clear limitations when it came to fulfilling her ambition.

All or nothing.

That was Minaz’s style.

Which meant this project was incredibly important to her.

Depending on how much she could showcase here, her next growth opportunity would either expand—or stall.

Minaz stepped into the Demon King’s Castle, floating above the sky like a celestial garden.

Then, from afar, Akane soared through the air and approached Minaz.

She had arrived.

Minaz began preparing for battle.

Here it is. The long-awaited showdown of destiny—

“Akane-nim. An intruder. Judging by their aura, they’re brimming with ambition. Clearly, they’re dying to gut you and take your throne. Time to show them who’s boss.”

“Akane. No mercy for enemies.”

…The weird chatterbox next to her ruined the mood.

Not that it mattered.

Regaining focus, Minaz conjured a magic circle in the air.

It had to start with a bang—with an explosion.