Chapter 26: To Those Who Want to be a Streamer, Come to Me (3)

“Ah, by the way, Seo-yeon, do you know what a VTuber is?”

“VTuber?”

Virtual YouTuber. Shortened to VTuber.

Despite the name including “YouTube,” it was ironic how rarely Korean VTubers actually streamed on YouTube.

“I know it well.”

Seo-yeon nodded.

Too well, actually—that was the problem.

She had even worked in the VTuber industry before. Technically, she was experienced.

Seeing that they were on the same page, Kim Ha-yoon smiled brightly.

“I figured you might. VTubers are super popular these days. If we’re just talking viewer count, VTubers often beat female cam streamers.”

You could tell just by looking at Forest TV.

Among the top female streamers, most were VTubers.

It wasn’t just a seasonal fad.

VTubers, which people initially thought would come and go, had been at the top for years now.

As long as streaming culture persisted, VTubers weren’t going anywhere.

“I even tried streaming as a VTuber once myself.”

Ha-yoon said it in an awkward tone.

“Really? How did it go?”

Seo-yeon asked, taking a bite of spicy chicken.

She’d only known Ha-yoon as a face-cam streamer. The fact that she’d tried VTubing was unexpected.

‘Then why couldn’t I find it?’

They had gotten close enough that Seo-yeon had searched through Raidel’s recent content.

But she’d never seen any VTuber videos.

“W-well, it didn’t go so great. It was ages ago and only for a short while…”

Ha-yoon lowered her head, face flushed.

A dark past.

Her brief VTuber venture was something she wished she could erase.

‘I must’ve lost my mind.’

When VTubers were booming and starting to become mainstream,

As more viewers shifted from female cam streamers to VTubers, Kim Ha-yoon felt threatened.

‘If I don’t evolve, I’ll be left behind!’

She, Raidel, couldn’t allow herself to become a relic of the times.

With that mindset, she tried diversifying her content.

‘Ugh.’

Just remembering it made her chest ache.

Back then, she didn’t have thousands of viewers like now,

Nor was she an experienced streamer. She was still a clumsy rookie.

It was clearly a desperate move.

‘I-I’m Virtual Streamer Delnyang…nyang~’

‘F-from the planet of cats…nyang!’

‘Nice to meet you, nyangnyang!’

‘The enemy jungler’s basically living in mid lane. What the f*ck is our jungler doing…nyang.’

With a cheap model she’d gotten on a budget,

And a hastily made-up backstory, Raidel—no, Delnyang—debuted.

[ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]

[What is the streamer doing LOL]

[Planet of Cats, seriously LOL]

[Say “meow-meow” please LOL]

[Raidel, this might not be it;;;]

[You think just adding ‘nyang’ to the end of every sentence works? LOL]

She was thoroughly ridiculed.

Maybe it was the forced cutesy behavior that didn’t suit her.

Or maybe the generic cat-girl theme was just too overused.

Looking back, it was a disaster in every way—aside from breathing.

In any case, within days of trying to pivot into VTubing, Raidel’s viewer count halved.

And Kim Ha-yoon never touched VTubing again.

She even wiped the videos clean from her channel. (Though an edited version still floated around somewhere on YouTube.)

‘Still, it’s not a bad option if you start that way from the beginning.’

It wasn’t that the VTuber market was bad.

The real problem was that she had already been a cam streamer.

Trying to switch over had alienated her existing audience.

Thankfully, she gave up on VTubing quickly (truthfully, the persona was unbearable),

And her instincts as a streamer were still intact, so her numbers bounced back quickly.

Aside from the occasional nightmare, her career wasn’t damaged.

‘Anyway.’

For someone like Raidel, shifting to VTubing was a bad move.

But starting out as a VTuber from the beginning? That was a different story.

“You’d feel a lot less pressure than showing your face.”

“That sounds good. VTubing.”

Seo-yeon nodded.

Yeah. VTubing really wasn’t a bad option.

‘If only I weren’t so shy.’

No matter how she thought about it, revealing her face to thousands of people was just too much.

Even regular people struggled with it, and she had the added debuff of being introverted.

‘Actually, this might be even better.’

VTubing was booming right now.

She studied Kim Ha-yoon’s face.

A mischievous beauty—with an incredible figure to match.

She often played the fool on stream, but in public, she was the kind of beauty who’d turn heads ten out of ten times.

Even someone like that had considered switching to VTubing.

‘It’s a brilliant move.’

Starting as a VTuber might actually be the better opportunity.

“But don’t you need a lot to get started as a VTuber?”

Seo-yeon asked.

A VTuber debut.

It looked easy since you didn’t have to show your face, but doing it right took even more prep than regular streaming.

From the model that would act as your face, to the hardware required.

‘I don’t really know much about this part.’

Seo-yeon shook her head.

Her previous role had only involved building character backstories. She’d been contracted to write settings and lore.

When it came to equipment or streaming techniques—anything that really mattered—she knew nothing.

“First, your computer specs… need to be good. Can I take a look?”

“Yes.”

Kim Ha-yoon sat down in front of Seo-yeon’s computer.

As expected of a streamer, her hands moved deftly.

After a few quick clicks, the system specs appeared on screen.

“Hmm. Unfortunately, it’s a bit lacking.”

Ha-yoon made a regretful face.

Streaming itself didn’t demand extreme specs, but VTubing was a different story.

Since the model had to move in real-time using motion capture, it needed above-average performance.

With her current setup, it would be difficult.

“For regular game streaming, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

VR games, in particular, relied mostly on the VR machine’s own hardware.

That’s why VR setups were so expensive—they had all the parts needed to run the game.

So the connected computer didn’t need to be a beast.

However, when that same PC had to run a virtual model and stream at the same time—it needed more power.

“Also, VTuber models are pretty expensive. There are cheap ways to get started, though.”

Ha-yoon began explaining.

So-called ‘3D canned models’—mass-produced avatars—were cheap and easy to obtain.

Most indie VTubers started with those to save on costs.

But custom models? Those were pricey.

A quality 2D model could run into the millions of won. A 3D model could cost over ten million.

‘If it’s just a hobby, that’s fine.’

If it were just a fun side thing, a cheap model would do.

But if she wanted to go pro, she’d need to invest a significant amount.

“Ugh, this is gonna cost a lot.”

Even though she’d earned four million won from their collab stream…

Buying a new PC and commissioning a model would wipe all that—and possibly still not be enough.

‘And it takes time too.’

You couldn’t get a good VTuber model overnight.

You had to find the right artist, put in the order, and wait.

If you chose the wrong creator, you could drop ten million won and still end up with a low-quality result.

“VTubing really isn’t that easy.”

“Nope. If you join a company, they provide everything… but no one’s hiring right now.”

Ha-yoon stared at the chicken in front of her for a moment before reaching for the breast meat.

“To be honest, I think no-cam streaming might be the best route for now.”

Rather than use some knockoff model,

It might be better to start with no-cam streaming and build a custom model later once she had the funds.

Long term, that might even work in her favor.

It would prevent her image from getting locked to a cheap ‘canned’ avatar.

“I think that’s the better choice too. And I’ll get to build up experience.”

Seo-yeon nodded.

Ha-yoon’s advice was definitely worth listening to.

Especially coming from someone who willingly gave up the wings and took the breast meat instead.

“But what are you going to use as your streamer name? I don’t think you should keep using Silverhair…”

“Yeah, that’s probably not it.”

It had been a random placeholder anyway—definitely not something she planned to stick with.

A name.

To be a streamer, you needed one.

Whether male or female, most streamers used aliases.

In fact, using your real name was rare.

Even Kim Ha-yoon streamed under the name Raidel.

Same with celebrities. Most had stage names, even if they sounded real.

‘I used to think Cha Eun-yoo was his real name.’

She once thought handsome people even had good-sounding names.

Turned out it was fake. His real name was totally ordinary.

A name could shape your image. It had to sound just right.

Ha-yoon clapped her hands.

“Then how about Johnny Silverhand? Since you’re Silver… get it?”

“That sounds like some kind of terrorist name.”

They also threw out Silver Surfer, Sylvester Stallone, and a few others,

But neither Seo-yeon nor Ha-yoon had much talent for naming.

“I think we’ll have to take our time on this one.”

Seo-yeon sighed. Naming was harder than expected.

Her head was starting to ache. She finally understood why people paid money to go to naming consultants.

“It’s not something you should rush. Once it’s out there, it’s hard to change. But…”

Ha-yoon smiled faintly.

This was the real point.

“I think you should start streaming soon. I want to give you a really good opportunity.”