Chapter Index

    Chapter 94: BGG and Igloo, Part 4

    Autumn of 2021.

    BGG Company was fortunate enough to be simultaneously selected for a government support program aimed at promising metaverse companies for the upcoming year 2022, as well as a youth entrepreneurship support policy.

    In truth, Hayoon was a hardcore anarchist.

    “I just sit at home drawing and selling lewd illustrations, so what has the government ever done for me to justify taking my taxes?!”

    There was even a time when she posted rants like this in online communities.

    “W-Wait… The grant is 50 million won…?”

    But on a whim, she applied for the government support program and ended up getting selected.

    Upon hearing that she would be receiving a 50-million-won grant, she clenched her fist and let out a triumphant yell.

    “This is what a country should be like, damn it…!”

    It felt like she was getting back all the taxes that had been taken from her, and then some.

    The exact deposit date was set to be announced again in January 2022, so realistically, she figured it would probably come through by the end of February.

    “With this money, I can return the deposit my parents helped me with.”

    Typically, a rental deposit is refunded to the original payer.

    In Hayoon’s case, when she signed the lease for the “Igloo,” she had negotiated with the landlord to split the deposit—she paid 10 million won, while her parents contributed 20 million won each.

    Since the lease renewal was scheduled for the end of the following year, she could now cover the full deposit on her own using the government grant.

    “I’ll set aside 40 million won for the deposit and use the leftover 10 million to buy an additional soundproof booth.”

    It didn’t take her long to decide how to use the 50 million won.

    Since she already managed her money by categorizing it into different sectors—business operating costs, rent, stock investments, and so on—figuring out a plan was second nature to her.

    Even though she was thrilled about receiving such a large sum from the government, she quickly composed herself, mentally allocating the funds.

    “Glad I listened to Unnie.”

    While it wasn’t certain, the reason why a small startup like BGG Company managed to get selected was probably due to their high net profit.

    And that high profit? It was all thanks to their Virtual Avatar business.

    For the past few months, Hayoon and Choi Arin had worked tirelessly, churning out a considerable number of virtual avatars.

    Among them, some designs were personally appealing at first but turned out to be impractical for streaming due to difficulty in maintaining a proper concept and roleplay.

    Choi Arin suggested selling these avatars to independent VTubers, particularly those who somehow discovered BGG Company and personally reached out for commissions.

    Since these were pre-made avatars, they had a drawback, but by offering them at a lower price than a custom commission, they became highly desirable.

    Naturally, the response was explosive.

    In the early days of the domestic VTuber scene, simply having high-quality artwork and rigging was enough to attract a decent audience.

    As a result, the VTubers who acquired avatars from BGG Company managed to gain some traction in the niche market.

    And Hong Seohyun took full advantage of these up-and-coming VTubers.

    By collaborating with them under the pretense of sharing the same “mama” (illustrator), she absorbed their audiences like a sponge.

    New face collaborations, subtle yuri (girls’ love) appeal, and even the pseudo-incest element of sharing the same character “parent.”

    Viewers of Scarlett’s channel were hooked on this dynamic, eagerly opening their wallets.

    Seeing this, more aspiring VTubers started flocking to BGG Company, hoping to purchase avatars.

    As a result, not only did virtual avatar sales increase, but even donations on Scarlett’s channel saw a significant boost.

    In a market as barren as the domestic VTuber scene, achieving profitability was enough reason to qualify for the government program.

    Essentially, thanks to Choi Arin’s suggestion, they had secured 50 million won.

    “How should I reward her for being such a lucky charm?”

    Hayoon smirked as she glanced at Choi Arin’s empty desk—she had left work early today.

    A financial reward seemed too predictable and unoriginal.

    She decided to think it over until Choi Arin arrived for work the next day.

    The Next Morning.

    It was the weekend, so attendance was optional.

    On weekdays, the three of them usually headed to the Igloo after school, but on weekends, they had the freedom to come and go as they pleased.

    Hayoon, however, was an exception.

    Perhaps due to her personality, she had no problem sleeping on one of the two makeshift beds in the Igloo.

    It wasn’t uncomfortable at all—if anything, she found it cozy.

    “Did you hear? People are talking about us a lot these days.”

    “Huh? Really?”

    She was shaking the water from her freshly washed hair when a male voice came from her phone.

    It was Do Jin-ho.

    “Well, it’s because you and Choi Arin have been distributing virtual avatars. It seems to be having an effect.”

    “What kind of effect?”

    “You know how small-time VTubers usually team up to host game servers or collab streams? During those collabs, someone always ends up saying something like, ‘Wow, your avatar looks great today.’ Then they start talking about where they got it.”

    “Ah…?”

    She could already see where this was going.

    “Eventually, the conversation shifts to Hong Seohyun, and they start saying stuff like, ‘Our mama and unnie take good care of us,’ which attracts donations from their viewers. And those viewers end up visiting Scarlett’s channel and sending donos too.”

    “So basically, they’re forming cliques and talking about us behind the scenes?”

    “Yeah, pretty much. If they ever say something inappropriate, we’ll step in right away, but for now, it’s actually good for us.”

    Most small-time VTubers were struggling because they lacked streaming skills.

    For them, any connection to a mid-tier VTuber like Scarlett was a lifeline.

    During their own streams, they might be careful about what they say, but in collabs, they let their guard down and chat more freely.

    “Well, for now, it’s fine. Since Seonbae (Hong Seohyun) added them on Discord, she can keep an eye on things, and if any of them get desperate enough to reincarnate, they might come to us first. Let’s just keep watching for now.”

    “Got it. If anything crosses the line, I’ll save the archives, so don’t worry and focus on your work.”

    “Alright. You too, Seonbae.”

    With that, Do Jin-ho’s routine report ended.

    Hayoon figured that, at this rate, they wouldn’t even need to conduct recruitment interviews—aspiring VTubers would come to BGG Company on their own.

    Not having to seek out candidates while still attracting interest was a great outcome.

    Hayoon smiled to herself, deciding that when Choi Arin arrived, she would shower her with affection.

    – Beep, beep, beep.

    As if on cue, the door lock of the Igloo beeped.

    She didn’t bother poking her head out.

    She was already thinking about how to spoil Choi Arin—if she made eye contact with Hong Seohyun first, her expression might give her away.

    “You here?”

    Choi Arin stepped inside the workspace, dressed in tight-fitting jeans and an oversized sweater.

    Hayoon grinned.

    “I’m always here.”

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