I Want to Be a VTuber

Eclat Étoile was launching a new clothing brand. The name? Argente Camellia.

It was a luxury line that emphasized femininity. Seoyeon remembered it well from her past life because it had been a hot topic in online communities for a while.

Of course, even without such a clear memory, the specifics of this brand would have come to mind because of certain controversies it stirred.

‘There were definitely a few issues.’

One of the major ones was a durability issue.

It wasn’t just the material; the design of the clothing was such that any rough movements would cause the waist area to tear easily. On top of that, there was another controversy related to the actress used in their advertising campaign.

During an awards ceremony, the dress worn by the actress split at the skirt, creating a disaster that ultimately destroyed the reputation of Argente Camellia.

‘The second issue was the design.’

When you emphasize femininity, design becomes crucial.

In theory, targeting femininity should come with merits that make the discomfort worth it for women. However, Argente Camellia failed in that regard. The designer had such a unique sense that the pieces ended up looking odd.

The designs were certainly beautiful, but they were difficult to pair with other outfits. Wearing only Argente Camellia made it seem as though the brand alone wasn’t prestigious enough.

‘Eclat Étoile doesn’t quite reach the status of a true luxury brand.’

Though some claimed it was doing well in France, it was still a domestic brand.

While it could be classified as a semi-luxury brand, it wasn’t something one could boast about exclusively.

‘The third issue was price.’

As mentioned, Eclat Étoile was a semi-luxury brand, and Argente Camellia followed suit.

Naturally, the prices were steep—much higher than regular clothing. This led to a lot of jokes and ridicule in online communities.

Not only did it spread across women’s forums, but it also became a meme in men’s communities, gaining the reputation of a brand that offered poor value for money.

This caused Eclat Étoile to take a significant hit—one so severe that the brand never fully recovered.

‘In fact, I never heard about Argente Camellia again after that.’

“How about it, Seoyeon?”

Seoyeon snapped out of her thoughts when her manager, Park Eun-ha, spoke.

“For now, I’d like to take the offer.”

“Really? It’s definitely a good opportunity.”

“But...”

Eclat Étoile was the foundation of Seoyeon’s considerable allowance, much of which she spent on Lamiel’s super chats. If Eclat Étoile went under, it would be problematic.

As an actress, Seoyeon’s earnings were managed by Sua, who was stricter with those funds. However, she was more lenient with the money Seoyeon made from advertisements.

“I’d like to meet with Eclat Étoile to discuss the details before making a decision.”

“Huh? Sure. I’ll arrange a meeting.”

It was rare for Seoyeon to respond this way. Normally, she was very decisive—either yes or no, nothing in between.

‘Is there something going on with Eclat Étoile?’

Park Eun-ha couldn’t help but feel curious. She trusted Seoyeon’s instincts immensely.

After all, every project Seoyeon had taken on—whether a TV show, a variety program, or an advertisement—had been a success. If there was any reason for hesitation, it had to be worth investigating.

‘I’d better look into this.’

If Seoyeon had reservations, there was definitely something important behind it.

Episode 5 of Hyper Action Star was here.

Episodes 2 to 4 had seen a steady decline in viewership, and as a result, online discussions about the show had dwindled.

The auditions for Teams B through D felt lackluster compared to the intense content in Team A’s first episode. Additionally, the other teams had approached the tasks more cautiously after seeing Team A, which only made things worse.

The superpower performances weren’t very engaging, leading to a sharp drop in ratings.

Although many had prepared ways to showcase their powers, they hadn’t thought much about how their abilities would interact with others.

This was only natural.

As actors, their priority was to make themselves shine.

Helping another actor perform well inadvertently made that actor stand out more, and no one wanted to do that—even in an audition.

And so, the mission for the remaining 10 actors in Team A was:

“Capture the flag.”

Actor Cha Min-gyu addressed Team A.

Each actor had to attach a flag to their back, and the goal was to steal flags from others in a parkour-style chase.

“And make sure to incorporate parkour techniques.”

Parkour meant using the environment to perform action sequences. The filming set was filled with a variety of obstacles and terrain features.

The camera cut to Seoyeon, whose mood seemed to have improved instantly. She was standing right next to Min Doha, who looked rather gloomy, making her all the more noticeable.

As viewers noted, Min Doha was currently feeling rather dismal.

‘Capture the flag? Really?’

It wasn’t a good feeling.

And just as Min Doha feared—

“Why are you only chasing me?! There are so many other people!”

Min Doha ran with all his might, genuinely desperate.

He couldn’t just give up the flag, as his pride wouldn’t allow it.

‘Why did I choose a shooting ability as my superpower...!’

There was no way for him to fight back.

If only he’d chosen telekinesis, he could’ve at least thrown that girl around a bit.

“Hi there.”

“Aaaaaaaah!”

As Seoyeon leaped over an obstacle and appeared beside him, Min Doha screamed and ran away.

Watching him flee, Seoyeon paused for a moment and then casually plucked flags from several nearby actors, as if they were hers to take.

The actors she stole from stared at her back in disbelief.

Her actions were so smooth, so natural.

The discussions in online communities started to heat up again.

Meanwhile, Seoyeon was literally flying through the parkour course.

At first, she seemed to be leisurely moving about for some reason, but something about Min Doha’s panicked escape had sparked her competitive side.

“Oh, Min Doha manages to escape from Ju Seoyeon once again.”

Meanwhile, Lamiel, who was commentating live, tried to suppress a snort of laughter.

Seeing Seoyeon on screen brought back memories.

‘Poor guy.’

Lamiel genuinely felt sorry for Min Doha.

It was clear that Seoyeon thought Min Doha was doing a great job playing off her acting. That was why she kept chasing him, letting him live a bit longer.

He was giving such satisfying reactions—how could she eliminate him right away?

And for Seoyeon, those obstacles weren’t obstacles at all.

She could clear them with just a simple jump. She was rolling and tumbling around for the sake of the atmosphere, but in reality, she didn’t need to.

‘Didn’t she say she was trying to manage her image?’

Lamiel recalled the conversation she’d had with Seoyeon at school.

“I’m going to stay calm for a while.”

“?”

“I need to restore my original image. I’m an actress, but my image is getting weird.”

Lamiel had been glad to hear that Seoyeon was aware of the situation and had decided to manage her image.

But now—

“Ahem.”

So, she’s still managing her image, right?

Lamiel had a fleeting sense of déjà vu, as though a long-buried childhood trauma had resurfaced.

There had been a time when she had suggested playing tag with Seoyeon, and she had experienced real fear.

Why did Seoyeon’s eyes glow red as she came running at her?

Even now, the memory still haunted her dreams.

The way Seohui was being tossed around now was exactly what had happened to Lamiel back then.

But—

This time, there was a twist.

“?”

“Oh, sorry.”

Seohui had managed to grab Seoyeon’s flag.

It was nearly the end of the game.

Perhaps out of guilt for having thrown Seohui earlier, Seoyeon let her off this time.

And as Seohui crawled away, Seoyeon moved to steal Min Doha’s flag, only for Seohui to sneak up and steal hers from an obstacle above.

Her presence had been so subtle that Seoyeon hadn’t noticed.

The only things Seohui had managed to do in this parkour mission were clumsily running around and getting thrown by Seoyeon. But her lack of presence had worked to her advantage.

And so, the flag-stealing game ended with Seoyeon in first place again.

Seoyeon’s growing fanbase came to her defense, protecting her image online. They gave off a vibe like, "Our Seoyeon doesn’t bite," but still, they kept her image intact.

“Team A seems to have pretty good balance.”

“It feels like Seoyeon is carefully choosing when to get eliminated.”

“Han Soyu’s acting was great too. Her superpower scenes with Seoyeon were the highlights.”

“And Seohui has a nice character. She’s really bringing her role to life and using her acting skills to the fullest.”

The staff and PDs laughed as they graded the acting performances for this episode of Hyper Action Star.

The ratings, which had been falling, jumped back up to 7%.

There was still some concern about the focus on Team A, but—

‘It’s better than losing the audience completely.’

PD Lee Gi-tae sighed.

In hindsight, they should have aired Team A later.

Switching the order of Teams D and A might have helped sustain the ratings. While it was a bit of a regret, there was nothing they could do now.

“What do you think, Director Han?”

“...”

Director Han Yegun was seriously reviewing the footage from the recent shoot.

His expression was dead serious as he watched scenes that had caused nothing but laughter among the crew.

That was Han Yegun.

His personality was clear from just that.

‘They call him a young genius.’

He was particularly renowned for his action scenes, rivaling the greats in the industry.

That’s why GH Group had hired him.

He was known for his visual style and his pursuit of pushing action to the extreme, much like the popular superhero films from the West.

‘It’s a gamble, honestly.’

Lately, audiences had grown accustomed to the level of action and CGI seen in Western superhero films. If the Korean productions didn’t meet those standards, they’d be ridiculed.

For this reason, Korean directors had shied away from movies involving fantasy elements. They were difficult to shoot, expensive, and often mocked by audiences, making it a risky venture.

“I have to say.”

Han Yegun finally spoke.

There was a brief silence, and PD Lee Gi-tae felt a bit nervous.

Han Yegun had a reputation for being a demanding director. He worried that Seoyeon, with her more variety-show-like performance, would receive some harsh criticism.

“I’ve seen a lot of actors.”

He paused the footage on a scene where Seoyeon was chasing after Min Doha.

While the others had found it funny and entertaining, Han Yegun’s perspective was different.

“I’ve never seen an actor with such strong presence.”

“Seoyeon does have a lot of presence, yes.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. It’s not just about how she dominates the screen. It’s about the expectation.”

“Expectation?”

Han Yegun nodded.

“There’s a sense of anticipation. A feeling of, ‘What will this actor do next?’ People are waiting to see her next move.”

They’re waiting for her to show something.

“That kind of anticipation extends beyond acting—it’s a valuable asset for a film’s success as well.”

People wanted to know what Seoyeon would do in her next scene, what she would show them.

Han Yegun smiled as he watched Seoyeon lose her flag to Seohui.

The unpredictability of it all.

“You managed to find a real monster.”

Hearing those words, PD Lee Gi-tae found himself rethinking Seoyeon.

If even this genius of a director had such praise for her, it meant that Ju Seoyeon was far beyond what he had initially imagined.

And this so-called monster was currently—

“What are you doing?”

In a stunning dress, Seoyeon looked at Jo Seohui, who gave her a wary glance.

“It’s time to go in. Didn’t you want to see what the upper class is like?”

“...”

They were standing outside a luxurious party at a high-end hotel.

Seoyeon looked as though she was beginning to regret her decision.