Now That I Have Become a Woman, I Am a Vtuber

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[End of Summer]

“Hello everyone~”

It’s my first time watching someone else’s broadcast.

Lying on the bed just behind the gaming chair where Maho was broadcasting, I felt the plush comfort.

Oh, this feels really nice.

It’s way better than the bed back at my family home.

“Alright, as announced earlier, we have a guest today. So, guest… what are you doing?”

Maho skillfully hosted the show, but when she looked back and found me lying there, her expression was one of disbelief.

“It smells nice, huh?”

“Hey, come say hi quickly.”

Right, I should say hi.

Struggling to rise from the cozy bed, I reminded myself not to take advantage of someone else’s hospitality.

“I’m Miro. I’m here as a guest today.”

– Welcome, Miro!

– Lol, she ran away here!

– Hi hi!

– You’re not doing civilization today, right?

Among the pretty chatters were Miro’s fans, the Miron faction, mixed in with Maho’s fandom, the Mahoski.

Looking at it this way, the chat level seems a bit high. It’s good I warned them beforehand.

“Everyone, this is Maho’s broadcast, so please keep it civil. You might get banned without mercy,” I said.

It wouldn’t just be a casual ban; it’d be a violent ban for sure.

The viewer I just saw looked like they hadn’t eaten in about three days, right?

I had requested the manager, who is in charge of Maho’s chat, to ban anyone using foul language without hesitation since those were either not her viewers or just trolls.

Being in someone else’s broadcast means I should maintain discipline.

Let the relaxation happen only in my room.

– Whoa!

– I’ll be careful.

– We’re sorry… please don’t ban us…

“Right, right. Miron faction, please keep your dignity.”

– Got it ^^7

– Dignity..? Do we even have that?

– Hmm… The host lacks dignity too?

Well, I mean, no member of the Miron faction would listen to me if I just said it… but still, that should be enough.

“Is everything done?”

“Yes, you can proceed now.”

After making a sort of request to the Miron faction, I handed the keys back over to Maho.

After all, I was just a guest today, so I have to leave the hosting to Maho.

“Shall we do what we prepared?”

The other members of the Celestial Realm Project had done some prior preparation before the broadcast started.

Maho was no different, and she had everything set for today.

“We’ve prepared this,” she said, displaying a drawing on the screen.

Lopsided backgrounds featured a huge, bold title.

It was QnA.

Maho had suggested we take questions and thought it would be fun, and I accepted the content.

– Oh!

– Hahaha!

– I’m looking forward to this!

Thus began our time of receiving questions from viewers and answering them.

The questions were diverse, starting from our first impressions of each other to what we want to do in the future, how we became friends, and how we spend our time outside the broadcasts, and many more.

As I answered sincerely, time really flew by, and while I was contemplating moving on to the next segment, another question came in.

[Thank you for the 5,000 won donation, ㅇㅇ!]
What was the hardest thing for both of you while broadcasting?

The moment I saw the donation message, I pondered about how to respond.

What’s the hardest thing? Hmm?

Honestly speaking, aren’t I making much easier money than a regular office worker?

But that doesn’t mean being a broadcaster is an easy job.

There’s the cold reality of popularity.

“Um… for me….”

Maho was the first to speak up.

“It would be preparing content, I think. While preparing is hard, it’s also about showing something that I personally planned to everyone, right? So I find myself fluctuating with each viewer’s evaluation.”

I was a bit surprised by her unexpectedly serious answer.

Once I thought about it, it made sense.

When you’re preparing your own content, the results fall entirely on your shoulders.

“Ugh, I feel sorry,” some viewers said.

Maho’s fandom, the Mahoski, is quite loyal compared to the Miron faction.

I wish my own viewers could learn a thing or two from that.

“Ah, feeling a bit shy? So what about you, Miro? When is it hardest for you?”

Maho passed the baton to me awkwardly, but I had nothing particular to say.

What have I found difficult?

I don’t think many people broadcast as comfortably as I do.

Preparing for broadcasts aside, I’m just not the type who finds things challenging.

If I put it positively, I’m optimistic; if negatively, I might be seen as perpetually running my happy circuit.

“I mean… honestly, I don’t really have a hard time at all?”

“What? Really?”

Maho looked at me as if it was absurd, but what am I supposed to do? I really don’t have any hard times.

“Well, my broadcasting style isn’t about preparing things at all. If it were a personal stream, it might be tough, but since The Six prepares everything for me, I feel like I’m just spoon-fed.”

“Whoa, isn’t that a bit misleading?”

Misleading? Well, it could be.

But what can I do? I’m just too good.

“But… I live my life in easy mode….”

“Wow, really? Can I let Miron faction hit Miro?”

“Why are you asking them?”

“I don’t need to ask you.”

With that, Maho’s fist slowly drew closer.

She wouldn’t actually swing it, but if she did, I’d be in trouble.

“Whoa, relax! We still have the content to do!”

“What?”

“We said we’d cook… and if you swing that fist now, you’ll have to handle the cooking and the dishes by yourself!”

“That’s a fair point, isn’t it?”

Slightly dissatisfied, Maho’s fist lowered. Looks like we’re done with that.

“Alright then. Shall we move on to cooking?”

“Fine, Miro, if you say so, I have no choice.”

Thus we smoothly transitioned from the QnA to the cooking broadcast.

The setup for the cooking broadcast was entirely prepared by me. Having had experience from the previous Miro 24 hours, I skillfully set it up.

“Do we really have to use this?”

“Of course we do.”

While I unpacked the mask from my bag, Maho hesitated to put it on, eventually shaking her head and setting it aside.

“Not wearing it?”

“I think just wearing a mask should be enough.”

“Ugh.”

Feeling a slight disappointment at her putting on the black mask instead of the mask I wanted her to wear, I mused over this.

Honestly, what are the chances of a similar accident happening again?

That’s just an excuse—I just wanted to see Maho wear the mask… what a pity.

“Shall we turn it on now?”

“Yes, let’s do it.”

We started the cooking broadcast on Maho’s account.

I could also start it on mine, but everyone was already in Maho’s room.

No need to confuse anyone.

“Is it working well?”

“Yeah, look here.”

Since the broadcast started on Maho’s phone, I monitored it with my phone while checking the chat box.

“Seems fine.”

“Now, we just have to cook.”

“So… shall we get started?”

In Maho’s kitchen, there were some cooking tools and ingredients laid out.

Of course, it couldn’t compare to what Mrs. Jang had at my family home, but for a single-person living space, this was quite a find.

“Okay, please take out the kimchi.”

“Should I take out the eggs too?”

“Ah, yes, we should take those out as well.”

This time we’d be making kimchi fried rice.

It’s easy enough to make, and there’s something to show off, right?

Like my stunning egg flipping skills, for instance.

“This time, I have to do it perfectly without mistakes, okay?”

“Last time was due to the oil… I won’t make a mistake this time.”

There’s no way I would mess up again.

– Oh~ So it was the oil, huh?

– The oil was indeed troublesome, right?

– Many excuses, huh?

Despite the snickering from the viewers, I continued with the cooking.

After all, this was kimchi fried rice we’re talking about! If I don’t concentrate, I’ll surely burn it.

Thus, with the mindset of a warrior encountering their lifelong rival, I completed the kimchi fried rice, and it looked striking.

“Wow, what’s this?”

“This is my dish, of course.”

– Whoa, this is amazing!

– Why are you so good? Hahaha!

– I really don’t get it.

– A bit too plain… not exciting.

“It’s not plain! I made it well!”

“Wow, it’s delicious!”

I smiled with satisfaction at Maho’s thumbs-up.

Alright, it seems I’ve somewhat mastered cooking now.

With this level, I should be able to do it regularly during broadcasts!

And it would also lighten Mrs. Jang’s workload.

With praises and cheers echoing in my ears, after finishing the meal, I devoured the purchased ice cream for dessert, and time drew near.

“Now, there’s not much left until the premiere!”

“Yeah, it’s coming soon.”

Just moments ago it felt like 10 minutes, but now it’s 5 minutes, then 1 minute, and we’re counting down to 30 seconds.

“Whoa, Miro, what do I do? I’m so nervous.”

“I’m nervous too, so don’t talk to me.”

“You’re nervous too?”

“What do you think I am?”

“Not really… just your image….”

– For real? Why would Miro be nervous? Hahaha!

– That’s just an act. Uh-huh!

– All she’s thinking about is going back to civilization!

– Miro being nervous? Seems unlikely!

In the meantime, the viewers joined in on the fun, poking at me, but I had no time to respond.

The countdown hit 10 seconds!

“May it go well.

This track must also do well. After all, the Celestial Realm Project needs to maintain this good momentum.

I want to stay here for a long time.

I want to be here to witness the rise of the second and third generations and the growth of our company.

Just gathering together like the original virtual tubers should be enough for great content, and if we save a good amount for anniversaries, that’s bound to be impressive.

And as a first-generation member, I’d get to enjoy every benefit.

Holding onto these happy thoughts, I continued the countdown.

Before I knew it, it was down to 5 seconds, and I could hear the sound of Maho gulping beside me.

And then 4.

3.

2.

1.

The countdown hit zero, followed by a brief blackout.

Then, from that dark background, sparkling dots began to appear and soon filled the sky with a magnificent starry night.

Amidst that picturesque night sky, a single red light shot upward.

And it exploded, revealing itself as fireworks to everyone watching.

The red lights continued to rise one by one from the ground, increasingly illuminating the sky with artificial brightness.

When they had filled about half the sky, the camera, which was illuminating the sky, turned its gaze downward to find the source of it.

And there stood six beautiful girls in school uniforms.

Under the shine of both natural starlight and artificial fireworks, the girls fired off fireworks with radiant smiles.

Before long, the sound of explosions gradually morphed into drum beats, and the melody began to flow.

[Aah—]

Then came the clear, bright voice.

This time, it was Loa singing the opening.

Loa skillfully wielded her pristine voice, reciting lyrics like a tranquil night breeze.

…It’s such typical lyrics for Loa.

Of course, I’m talking about the virtual tuber Loa, not the real one.

As each member began to sing, the background shifted.

Like the intro video, to streets, school, and more.

Then, as Loa, Mile, and Maho passed by, the melody I heard countless times in the recording studio finally built up to my part alongside a swimming pool.

“Ah.”

As soon as my character, Miro, appeared on the screen, the lyrics I had sung with flushed cheeks in the recording studio came flooding back.

And as that memory surfaced, I tried to jump up to escape my seat.

But—

Bam!

I got caught by Maho’s long arm immediately.

“Sis?”

“What are you doing? You need to watch!”

“Agh!”

Soon, the screen showed Miro beginning to sing.

With narcissism dripping from every word, the lyrics were, by my standards, totally cringeworthy….