Moss, whose full name was Chun Myunghan, had always been a diligent person since childhood.
He steadily followed the tracks society had laid out for him and excelled at doing so.
He graduated from a prestigious university and secured a respectable job.
Moss couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity.
Han Yurim?
It might seem odd that Moss didn’t immediately recognize her.
After all, Han Yurim had modeled avatars, characters, and nearly everything else in her games after herself.
So why hadn’t Moss recognized her right away? Was it because he wasn’t observant?
Not exactly.
This was the phenomenon of the “lesser resemblance.”
Imagine there’s someone named Kim Inho who happens to resemble a famous actor.
If you know both the actor and Kim Inho, you might look at Kim Inho and think:
“Hey, you look like that guy from Slaughterer!”*
This happens often enough. But what about the reverse? Would looking at the actor make you think of Kim Inho?
Unlikely.
There’s a reason for this “lesser resemblance.”
Even Kim Inho’s own mother wouldn’t look at the handsome actor and think of her son—she might even feel guilty if her brain made that association.
It was the same with Han Yurim.
While Thierry might remind someone of Han Yurim, the reverse rarely happened.
No matter how attractive Thierry was, the disparity between them was significant.
Moss, now fully aware, sat across from Han Yurim.
She raised her head and spoke with a faint smile.
“Were you eyeing my sandwich by any chance?”
“Moss. Chun Myunghan.”
“Yes. Were you perhaps eyeing my sandwich?”
So, she wasn’t mistaken about who he was—she just decided to lead with an odd question anyway.
Shaking his head, Moss glanced at the table. There was a mountain of macarons and a sandwich.
It wasn’t about disliking macarons or preferring sandwiches—she was eating both.
Han Yurim always managed to surprise him. A truly unpredictable person.
As Moss inserted a straw into his Americano, he asked, “What brings you here?”
“I’m waiting for my appointment.”
“Since when?”
“About 30 minutes ago.”
Which meant she had arrived an hour early.
For someone like Moss, who prided himself on punctuality, even that seemed excessive.
“You could’ve come to the office.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you if you were working.”
“Then why ask for my contact information? You could’ve just called.”
“Ah, but as you know, community folks like us tend to have a touch of ADHD. And ADHD makes it hard to say no. Even when we’re overwhelmed, if someone asks to meet, we just say yes.
Now you understand why I didn’t call, right?”
Sigh.
Moss let out a heavy sigh. Normally, sighing in front of a client was a breach of professional etiquette.
But with this client, it was unavoidable.
Even the world’s most seasoned professionals would forgive him.
Taking a deep breath, Moss said evenly, “Fine. Let’s head to the office. I’m not busy right now.”
“Understood.”
“And please don’t call me ‘Malrang Mabbak’ at the office.”
“Yet you call me by my username?”
“That’s because your username is basically your real name!”
Unable to hold back, Moss instinctively rebutted.
No, snap out of it, Chun Myunghan.
If you get sucked into her pace, you’ll spend the entire day bantering nonsense and head home exhausted.
Thankfully, Han Yurim seemed to understand. She nodded and picked up her sandwich.
“Then I’ll just finish this and head in. You can go ahead without me, Malrang Mabbak.”
“It’s fine. I don’t have much to do today, and honestly, my staff probably prefer it when I’m not around.”
Moss took a sip of his Americano. The caffeine worked its magic, clearing the fog of confusion clouding his thoughts.
“Hmm.”
“…”
“Hmm? Do you have something you want to say?”
“Why do you do VTubing?”
The question was more than idle curiosity.
If she used her real appearance for her avatar—Moss was now fully aware Thierry wasn’t the inspiration—it seemed to defeat the purpose of being a VTuber.
“Ah.”
Han Yurim sighed deeply, so much so that Moss felt taken aback.
The sigh reminded him of himself earlier, making him wonder if his question was on par with her usual absurd comments.
Surely not, right?
His question seemed perfectly reasonable.
“Malrang Mabbak.”
“Yes?”
“How much do you actually know about VTubing?”
She crossed her legs as she spoke.
Perhaps it was the macaron in her left hand, but the atmosphere didn’t feel serious at all.
“I know a bit,” Moss replied honestly.
“Just a bit? Under the star of arrogance, you shine.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, you don’t know enough, do you?”
“In the VTuber world, anything is possible,” Han Yurim continued.
“You can be an ice mage or a cat plushie. Have you not realized the endless possibilities?”
“I know that much. But your avatar is just… you.
That’s why I asked. If you were an ice mage, I wouldn’t have said a word.”
At his response, Han Yurim wagged her index finger side to side.
For some reason, that small gesture irritated Moss, and he took another sip of his Americano.
She spoke slowly, as if explaining something obvious.
“That’s precisely why it creates a sense of dissonance when people see my real self.”
“Dissonance? That’s your reason?”
“And just because my avatar mirrors my real self doesn’t mean I can’t leverage the strengths of being a VTuber.”
“Is that so?”
“If I say any more, it’ll spoil things. You’ll have to check out my streams for the details.”
It sounded like she had something planned, but Moss wasn’t particularly curious and let the topic drop.
Folding the receipt in half, he broke the silence.
“Han Yurim.”
“Yes?”
“Of all the tax consultants out there, why me? I’m still relatively inexperienced.”
“You’re the only tax consultant I know, and you seem trustworthy.”
“Trustworthy? What part of me made you think that? We’re meeting for the first time today.”
Moss let out a laugh, more out of disbelief than amusement.
How could she deem him trustworthy when they’d only just met?
Surely she didn’t believe she could assess someone’s character simply from their online interactions. If so, she was gravely mistaken.
“It’s not the first time we’ve met. I’ve been observing you for quite a while.”
“You’ve spent a long time in the community. You should know—it’s all a masquerade.”
“Still, the fact that Malrang Mabbak likes maids is true, isn’t it?”
Moss froze for a moment.
Could that really be the reason?
“It’s enough of a reason, isn’t it? At least I know you understand this world better than other tax consultants.”
“…That’s one way to look at it.”
Now that she’d explained, it didn’t seem entirely unreasonable.
Moss folded the receipt into the shape of a small airplane, then looked over at Han Yurim.
Every bit of food in front of her had disappeared.
“If you’re done, shall we head up to the office?”
“I still have a chocolate cake on the way.”
“When did you order that?”
Meanwhile, elsewhere, Pae Pae stared at their messenger with a dissatisfied expression.
The tax consultant they’d been using for years had recently become frustratingly slow.
Not incompetent or unethical, just… sluggish in a way that grated on their nerves.
It was hard to tell if the problem was with the consultant or if Pae Pae’s own patience had worn thin.
Either way, it didn’t matter. They were the client, after all. If they weren’t satisfied, they could simply switch.
Pae Pae started searching for a new tax consultant.
Given their career as a streamer, they couldn’t just pick anyone. They needed someone familiar with internet broadcasting taxes.
But finding one wasn’t easy.
Plenty of people advertised themselves as “specialists in VTuber taxes,” but most of them were inexperienced rookies.
Hiring one of these newcomers and ending up with a year’s worth of headaches wasn’t appealing.
Maybe sticking with their current consultant was better after all.
As they debated whether to end the contract, they closed their browser.
Ding!
A new message arrived.
Opening the voice messenger, Pae Pae saw a familiar username.
Han Yurim: Heard you’re looking for a tax consultant?
How did she know?
They’d only mentioned their dissatisfaction to Lumen. Sorting through their thoughts, they realized the culprit was obvious—Lumen had told her.
Pae Pae began typing.
Pae Pae: What, are you here to introduce me to one?
Han Yurim: You could say that. I just started working with someone new myself. They seem reliable. I’ve known them for a while, so I can vouch for their work ethic.
Han Yurim had known this tax consultant for a long time?
Pae Pae was intrigued.
How strong did your nerves have to be to put up with Han Yurim for years?
They must be the patron saint of patience.
Pae Pae quickly replied.
Pae Pae: Send me their contact info.
[What about me?]
“Streamers aren’t amusement parks. Stop asking as if you’ve been excluded from a ride,” Han Yurim muttered while typing.
[What about me?]
“I sent the contact info via message,” she said.
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