Chapter 84: Bullfrog

Recently, VTubers have started appearing on Switch like bamboo shoots after rain.

Most of them operated in groups.

These ranged from large companies that mass-produced VTubers to smaller crews formed by fellow VTubers.

The Switch VTuber scene was divided into three main factions.

First, the virtual idol group “Inverse,” which was part of the “Project Restart” initiative by the famous company N.

Second, “Flare,” a VTuber crew founded by the emperor of VTubers, “VTuber King” Rita.

And third, the independent VTubers who had a considerable following but were not affiliated with any group.

These three factions were sharing the viewer base like a three-way battle for dominance—until an unexpected event disrupted the peace.

Overnight, the balance of power in the Switch VTuber scene was completely overturned.

The cause? The emergence of a new superstar VTuber whose presence overshadowed all existing factions.

There was no need to say more—it was the debut of the ecological disruptor, the bullfrog of VTubers, Molu.

Molu quickly claimed a share of the audience equal to that of the three factions combined, and the influx of new viewers through her was overwhelming.

For the streamers who had dominated the VTuber market until now, this was an unprecedented crisis they couldn’t ignore.

Faced with this sudden disaster, Rita, the leader of the Flare crew, urgently called for a crisis meeting with her fellow streamers.

“Hah… This situation is getting serious. Everyone, please share your thoughts… No, actually, just say anything that comes to mind.”

Among the three factions, Flare was the newest and smallest. It wouldn’t have been surprising if Molu ended up absorbing their entire audience.

Rita had a few temporary solutions in mind, but she wanted to hear her crew members’ ideas, hoping they might come up with something better.

That was the reason she had called for this emergency meeting.

“Okay, Ria, go ahead.”

“If we keep going like this, we’re all doomed, boss.”

“That’s obvious.”

It was like standing in a house filling with water and commenting on how wet it was.

Her nonchalant reaction might be an appealing trait for streaming, but seeing it in real life was another matter.

Rita rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on.

Another crew member spoke up.

“But do you think Molu will keep doing this VTuber thing?”

“I thought she’d quit after a short while, but she’s still going strong. She even said she’s getting a new avatar.”

“That must have cost a lot. She must be serious about this.”

“Wasn’t she originally a no-cam streamer?”

“Yeah, but lately, no-cam streams feel too empty, so a lot of them have been adding virtual avatars.”

Despite their chatter, no concrete solution emerged.

“This is basically a natural disaster. There’s no real way to stop it.”

“Ugh…”

“If we really had to come up with a plan, there is one possibility, though it’s a long shot.”

Even though Rita had a feeling she knew what was coming, she asked anyway, just in case.

“What is it?”

“We recruit Molu into our crew.”

“If that was possible, would I be sitting here like this?”

Concerns about Molu overshadowing the rest of the crew could come later.

For now, if she were part of Flare, they might at least get some of the attention and audience spillover from her massive following.

A kind of trickle-down effect.

But, of course, that was assuming Molu would even consider joining Flare in the first place.

“Why would someone of her level join our tiny crew? She’s already turned down offers from other gaming crews.”

“But we’re the first VTuber-focused crew to reach out, aren’t we?”

“That’s true, but…”

Isn’t that just a minor technicality?

Rita decided not to voice that thought out loud.

As the leader, she couldn’t just pour cold water on the efforts of her crew members who were brainstorming so enthusiastically.

“Besides, where else will you find people as dedicated to virtual content as us? That was our whole recruitment criterion—how passionate someone is about VTubing.”

“Honestly, we just gathered a bunch of hardcore otakus…”

“Unnie!”

Originally, the crew had just been a casual group of like-minded people wanting to play games together.

They never expected it to grow this big.

The moment they started being called one of the “Big Three” in the Switch VTuber scene, ambition naturally followed.

“Who knows? Maybe Molu is also serious about VTubing. Since we know this space well, we could help her out—teach her about avatars, VR, and everything else.”

“I-Is that so…?”

“Just give it a shot. We have nothing to lose.”

Rita prided herself on being self-aware, but she failed to recognize one thing about herself—she was easily swayed by others.

Before she knew it, she was already drafting an email to invite Molu to join their crew.

“…So, in short, it’s nothing serious, just a friendly group of VTubers who play games together. Does this sound too desperate? Ugh, whatever.”

Whether it works out or not, at least she tried.

She tried not to get her hopes up too much.

Rita sent the email to the address listed on Molu’s channel.

And then—

“I’d like to discuss the details in person…? Wait, this is actually happening?”

She received a reply from Molu, expressing interest in joining the crew.

“VTuber crew, Flare…”

As she scrolled through her inbox, she spotted an unfamiliar email.

Amid all the usual spam and promotional messages, something different had arrived.

On my days off from streaming, I often tune into other streamers’ broadcasts.

It was a familiar name.

And for good reason—when controversy over my appearance was at its peak, their streams were what gave me the idea to transition into VTubing.

The sender of this email was none other than Rita, the leader of Flare.

My recent VR stream had been directly inspired by her VR exploration broadcasts.

So, in a way, she was something of a role model to me.

Not in the sense of being a die-hard fan, but in the sense that she had created an opportunity for me.

To be honest, I had received quite a few similar recruitment offers before.

From MCNs and streamer crews to exclusive contracts with game organizations—there were even entertainment agencies I had never heard of.

Some outright scammers would spin elaborate tales about how they could turn an anonymous person like me into a celebrity.

It was ridiculous.

That’s not to say none of the offers had potential.

Some proposals could have been beneficial, both financially and in terms of career growth.

But nothing truly excited me.

Except for that one cold noodle commercial.

Even now, I think that was a great decision.

There hasn’t been anything as refreshingly unique since.

This time, the situation felt somewhat similar.

A recruitment offer from VTuber Rita’s crew.

I found myself thinking—maybe I should try it at least once.

Whenever I had a major decision to make, I relied on my editor, Siyoung, for advice.

This time was no different.

On the day of the meeting, I headed to her place.

“It’s not a bad idea. Since it’s VTubing, it won’t even affect your public image as much.”

“You think so?”

She read Rita’s email and nodded approvingly.

“To put it bluntly, you could do anything right now, and people would still cheer for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re famous now.”

Her words were blunt, but she had a point—unless I made some catastrophic mistake, I wasn’t going to crash and burn.

At the very least, I could expect to do decently well.

“Are you planning to continue VTuber streams?”

“That’s actually the issue. I wanted to discuss it in person.”

I wasn’t a pure VTuber.

I had started as a faceless streamer, only occasionally turning on a half-body cam due to tournament regulations.

My situation was vastly different from most VTubers, whose real identities were completely hidden.

I also didn’t use my virtual avatar every day.

For them, the avatar was their primary identity, but for me, my default was still no-cam.

Even now, if I found setting up too much of a hassle, I just wouldn’t bother using my avatar.

Sometimes, when I got bored and wanted to play around with VR, “VTuber Molu” would make an appearance.

“Streaming as a VTuber every day wouldn’t be ideal for your existing audience. Some of them will definitely push back. Just because they like ‘No-cam Molu’ doesn’t mean they’ll automatically like ‘VTuber Molu’ too.”

“Really?”

“I think it’s better to use it only occasionally, like you do now.”

Siyoung nodded as she added,

“You’d be more of a recurring guest than a full-time crew member.”

“That does sound better. Playing with the crew all the time might feel like an obligation.”

“I’ll come with you to the meeting.”

Since this discussion could shape the future direction of my channel, Siyoung wanted to be present.

At this point, she was more of a manager—no, a personal agent—than just an editor.

I didn’t mind, but I wondered if she was taking on too much work.

“Should we hire more editors?”

“…What?”

“I mean, the YouTube channel is growing, and it must be tough for you to handle everything alone. Other streamers split the work among multiple editors—maybe we should do the same.”

“No.”

Siyoung shook her head firmly.

“Not at all. I’m fine.”

Her expression made it clear she wouldn’t entertain any arguments.

Feeling a bit awkward, I nodded hesitantly.

“O-Okay, then…”

She had this air about her—like she wouldn’t accept any video on my channel unless she had edited it herself.

An editor with an intense sense of mission.

As a boss, I had never experienced this kind of satisfaction before.

I made a mental note.

I should give her a raise.