Chapter 37 : A vertuber who criticizes herself

The Next Day

As expected, I received a call from the Awakener Association.

They wanted me to appraise an item.

Going outside was a hassle, but it wasn’t anything burdensome.

Unlike with anomalies, I didn’t need to personally step into the affected zones.

All I had to do was click my ability on the items the association had acquired.

This was part of the “Official Archivist’s Duties”—specifically, duty number two:

“At least once a month, you must create a new [Item] document.”

With this request, I no longer had to worry about fulfilling that requirement.

The association would keep bringing me items to appraise.

It made sense.

With me around, they could confirm an item’s effects without any risk.

Even if my obligation changed from once a month to twice a month, it wouldn’t be an issue—

…No.

Forget I even thought that.

There’s a saying: “Silence is gold, speech is silver.”

If I start thinking about it, they might actually add a new requirement, and that would be a disaster.

Shaking off the unnecessary thoughts, I stepped out of my house with a light heart.

The day’s schedule was tight—I had to stop by the association and then return home to stream.

Still.

They pay me.

Once you’re registered as an Awakener, the government pays you. Naturally.

The Awakener Association is a public institution, and Awakeners are treated like civil servants.

They even provide performance bonuses.

According to Yoo Iseul, every time I resolve an anomaly or acquire an item, I receive a bonus.

In my case, I’d also get paid for appraising items.

A single click and a bonus drops into my account.

Now that’s easy money.

Now that’s a job.

Of course, there’s still Duty Number Three of the Official Archivist’s role:

“At least once a month, you must create a new [Anomaly] document.”

…Because of that, I can’t exactly call this a freeloading job.

But still.

I’ve got a healthy body.

And I’ve got Yoo Iseul.

After all the effort I put into building rapport, she’ll help me again next time.

With that in mind, I stepped out of my house.

My mood was light.

My clothes were not.

As usual, I was wearing a skirt.

I had forgotten to buy new clothes again.

And today… I was even wearing stockings.

Let me say this with confidence—

Stockings are the greatest invention of human wisdom and scientific advancement.

They’re so warm.

The difference between exposing bare legs to the world and wearing stockings is like night and day.

…It does feel a little weird, though.

But it’s better than being cold.

At the Awakener Association

Upon arriving at the association, I was immediately greeted by Kim Joong-hwan.

I frowned.

“Why are you here, Mr. Kim?”

“Hm?”

“I mean, you’re a field investigator, not an item specialist.”

“I handle a lot of different tasks, not just investigations.”

“…Is that so?”

This guy.

He might actually be someone important.

Now that I think about it…

If he were just a regular investigator, would he really be allowed to attend a meeting led by the chairman himself?

His ability lets him discern truth from lies.

That skill isn’t just useful for investigations—it’s invaluable for other tasks, too.

For example, item appraisals.

From the association’s perspective, verifying whether I’m telling the truth about an item’s effects is crucial.

It’s not just about trust.

While items can be incredibly beneficial to humanity, a single misuse could lead to catastrophic consequences.

It didn’t feel great knowing I was being scrutinized, but I understood the necessity.

The Awakener Association’s building was tall—so tall it seemed to touch the clouds.

Which meant…

The inside of the association was just as massive.

The Walk to the Storage Room

As we walked to the area where the items were stored, Kim Joong-hwan seemed restless.

It was as if he had something he wanted to say, his lips parting slightly before closing again.

I sighed.

“What is it?”

“Huh?”

“If you want to ask something, just ask.”

At my blunt remark, he hesitated for a moment.

But then, as if steeling himself, his expression hardened.

“Miss Jia… is it true?”

“What is?”

“You know… that thing.”

“That thing doesn’t tell me anything, Joong-hwan.”

Was he always this frustrating?

Why not just ask directly instead of beating around the bush?

“…The Narak Show,” he finally blurted.

“Are you really appearing on it?”

Ah.

Right.

This guy was an Adungie.

Well, no wonder he was hesitating.

That question wasn’t easy to ask.

I nodded.

“Yeah, somehow, it just ended up happening.”

“Krrrrrrgh… I’m so jealous, Miss Jia! You’ve become a successful Adungie!”

He clenched his fists dramatically.

“I could die facing an anomaly tomorrow and have no regrets! This, too, must be a blessing from the Great Starlight!”

“…The first half is true, the second half is a lie.”

“D-Damn it, shut up!”

I swear, if the Price of Blasphemy falls upon us, I’m blaming him.

No red pill talk allowed.

From there, our conversation naturally flowed to Ayase.

Like me, Kim Joong-hwan had been watching her streams since her debut, making him a veteran Adungie.

That shared history made our conversation endless.

From Ayase, we moved on to discussing VTubers in general.

At some point, he gave me a sheepish look.

“Uh, Miss Jia, I don’t know if I should say this, but… you are terrible at games.”

I flinched.

“Uh… So what?”

“I’ve never seen a VTuber as horrendous at gaming as you.”

What was with this déjà vu?

First Yoo Iseul, now him—why were people so invested in my gameplay?

“Because it’s entertaining, obviously.”

“…Really?”

“Your streams are pure dopamine, Miss Jia. The sudden rituals, the Price of Blasphemy—it’s all peak content.”

“…Thanks?”

I mean, my viewership had been climbing steadily, so he wasn’t wrong.

Still, online streaming is fickle.

There’s no such thing as infinite growth.

I had my worries about whether I could build a solid core fanbase, a concrete cult that wouldn’t waver.

But hearing this… It was a relief.

If people were enjoying my content, that was enough.

Joong-hwan, however, wasn’t done.

“That being said…” he hesitated, then sighed.

“Knowing that most of what you say on stream isn’t roleplay makes me a little sad.”

“…What?”

Oh, no.

Shit.

“You… Did you use your ability while watching my streams?”

“Of course.”

“What do you mean of course, you lunatic? Unauthorized red pill distribution! That’s a direct violation of VTuber viewer etiquette! I’ve never used my ability while watching Ayase’s streams!”

“And I’ve never used mine while watching Ayase, either.”

“…Then why only me—”

“I’m an investigator for the Awakener Association.”

“…So?”

He stopped walking.

Then, with a serious expression, he pointed at me.

“Miss Jia. Do you know what the Awakener Association’s top priority investigation is right now?”

I frowned.

“The increased frequency of anomaly events?”

“No.”

His voice was firm.

And then, he spoke the words that sent a chill down my spine.

“It’s you, Miss Jia.”

“…Me?”

“Yes. More precisely, not you, but the black smoke you encountered.”

“I See.”

“Do you need me to explain further?”

“…No.”

Ever since anomalies and items began appearing in the world, humanity had managed to confine anomalies within designated anomaly zones using the power of items.

But the black smoke was an exception.

It was suspected to be an anomaly, yet it had appeared inside a normal household rather than within a designated anomaly zone.

And the person who encountered it—me—

Had their species changed.

Had gained abilities.

Had become a woman.

I had reported everything to the Awakener Association—everything except for the fact that I had turned into a woman.

Looking back on it now, it was no surprise that the association was keeping such a close eye on me.

Sensing the sudden stiffness in the atmosphere, Kim Joong-hwan clapped his hands together, breaking the tension.

“Oh, right! Didn’t you say you’d do a half-face cam stream if you hit fifty thousand followers?”

“…You really monitor my streams thoroughly, huh? Yeah, I did say that.”

“Then you should start preparing.”

“Huh? I still have a long way to go before fifty thousand.”

“As a VTuber expert—”

“…?”

“—I’d say once the Narak Show airs, you’ll hit fifty thousand in no time.”

“Come on, you’re overestimating me.”

“No, you’re underestimating yourself. You have a solid grasp of VTubing as a whole… but you’re terrible at self-assessment.”

“…Am I really that good?”

“Yes. You really are.”

Huh.

Am I really?

I’m not so sure.

The Item Appraisal

The item appraisal ended as unceremoniously as it began.

[Fel-Schried’s Fountain Pen (Item)]

A fountain pen invented by the world’s greatest inventor, Fel-Schried.

The ink never runs out.

Any text written with this pen can never be erased.

“…That’s it?”

“Yep. That’s it.”

“…Alright. Thanks for confirming, Miss Jia.”

What a waste of a trip.

Apparently, not every item turned out to be useful or powerful.

“This is trash, isn’t it?”

“No, we can’t say that for sure.”

“Why not? It’s just a plain old fountain pen.”

“This plain old fountain pen might be the key to solving a critical anomaly.”

“…With these lame effects?”

“Yes. Miss Jia, the Awakener Association offers anomaly education courses—I’d recommend attending one when you have time.”

“Even Yoo Iseul keeps telling me to study anomalies… Alright, fine. I’ll check it out when I have time.”

That diffuser I appraised last time was garbage.

This fountain pen was also garbage.

But now I was being told that even trash items like these could be crucial to solving anomalies.

It didn’t make sense to me yet.

Well, whatever.

…Wait.

If you used this pen to doodle on someone’s skin—

Wouldn’t that be a permanent tattoo?

“Hey… Couldn’t we sell this to a tattoo artist?”

“…No, we cannot.”

Why not?

I bet it’d sell for a good price.