I Want to Be a VTuber

'What is going on?'

PD Lee Gi-tae felt a strange sense of disconnect as he watched the finals unfold. While the show was technically an audition, it had always been structured like a variety show.

But this final round was different. It seemed much more focused on acting and the audition aspect, compared to the previous rounds, which had been more about testing the contestants' quick thinking in real-time—more like a variety show in format.

For the finals, however, they had been given a script and two hours of preparation time, indicating that the focus was on acting.

'It's also the last chance to verify their skills.'

Since the overall setting had been shared from the preliminary rounds up to this point, they likely had an idea of how things would unfold. The general format of Hyper Action Star had been to throw the actors into a specific setting and give them missions.

They could have planned their acting during these missions in advance.

Even so, it would have been difficult to fully choreograph an action sequence in just two hours.

Two hours of preparation—if they had discussed things beforehand—might have been enough time to finalize some key sequences.

In a live performance context, at best they could prepare one or two scenes within that time frame, likely lasting no more than 10 minutes. Typically, you would expect about 5 minutes of material.

But that wasn’t a problem. Even in movies, action scenes typically only last a few minutes.

So, Lee Gi-tae had expected that the final would mostly showcase the actors' performance in terms of dialogue, background, and narrative. In such a format, they could get about 10 to 20 minutes of footage.

If not, it wouldn’t matter.

‘That’s why we prepared several backup options.’

For example, pre-filmed interviews. They could also insert clips showing the two actors’ performances in previous missions.

Altogether, they had prepared about 40 minutes of content to edit into the show, both before the finals began and to insert appropriately afterward.

‘But...’

Lee Gi-tae checked the time. Five minutes had already passed.

He could sense that the audience, who had initially been clapping in awe at the early exchanges, were starting to feel puzzled. Even though it was only a light skirmish, the quality seemed far beyond what could be expected from just two hours of practice.

Now, they probably expected to see more acting rather than action.

That is, until Narumi Sora pulled out the nunchucks.

The audience gasped at the unexpected choice of weapon, but the staff and professionals reacted differently.

‘How...?’

Choreographing a fight using weapons was far more difficult than unarmed combat. He was certain that no matter what they had done in those two hours, this shouldn’t have been possible.

‘Maybe it’s just a simple swing or two?’

That might be manageable. Still, something felt off.

On both sides, it didn’t seem like they were adjusting to a pre-choreographed fight... It felt like they were genuinely battling in real time.

Lee Gi-tae held his breath as he watched. He couldn’t predict how this final would unfold anymore.

A single breath.

With her nunchucks tucked under her arm, Sora stared at Seoyeon. The realm of acting had already passed.

Shin Arin’s role only required lines that had been rehearsed in advance. Her opponent would have memorized those lines, too.

But no choreography for action scenes had been prepared beforehand. This part would have to be fought as Narumi Sora, not as Shin Arin.

This was no longer about acting—it was pure action.

‘It’s what you said.’

Sora extended her left hand forward, her expression unreadable as she faced Seoyeon.

It was a familiar stance. She had practiced this countless times as a child while watching movies.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The nunchucks felt much lighter than real ones. Aside from the plastic chains, they were essentially sponge rods with a bit of weight added.

Getting hit by them would only result in a dull thud. Still, Sora felt that even if she had brought her actual nunchucks, it would have made no difference.

“Do you like Hong Kong movies?”

Suddenly, Yeohwa spoke. Sora couldn’t tell if the question was directed at Shin Arin or Narumi Sora herself.

But none of the pre-rehearsed lines involved a response to that question.

Feeling unsure about her Korean pronunciation, Sora simply nodded and replied,

“Yeah.”

Yeohwa’s lips curled into a smile.

“Interesting.”

Her voice sounded like a mocking sneer. Perhaps it was because of the previous dialogue, but it felt like she was ridiculing Sora’s love for Hong Kong films.

Of course, Sora didn’t mind. She was used to such reactions.

“It won’t just hurt a little if you get hit.”

This was one of the pre-rehearsed lines. Shin Arin, being a character with physical enhancement powers, would easily break bones if she used such a weapon. It was a line meant to warn Seoyeon.

With that, Sora took a step forward.

One step, then another, and soon she was sprinting toward Seoyeon.

Sliding her left foot forward, she swung the nunchucks in her right hand in a smooth arc toward Seoyeon.

Whoosh!

Seoyeon ducked to avoid the blow, her red eyes following the movement of the nunchucks before locking onto Sora once more.

‘You dodged that, huh?’

Those eyes seemed to say.

Sora chuckled internally. Upon reflection, she realized that Seoyeon never initiated an attack.

Even when Sora had charged earlier, it had been her who attacked first with a knee strike.

The reason was simple. Seoyeon could dodge.

Dodging was nearly impossible without choreographing the movements in advance. At least when it came to acting.

If Seoyeon had retaliated, Sora wouldn’t have been able to dodge it—unless it was blatantly telegraphed.

That’s why Seoyeon refrained from launching the first strike.

Otherwise, it would look like straightforward violence, rather than choreographed action.

‘Well, then.’

Sora decided to leave it to Seoyeon.

It was Seoyeon who had claimed she would adjust to her, after all.

And at the same time, Sora’s pride was stung. She wanted to prove that she could do what Seoyeon was doing.

So...

Clink!

The sound of the chains echoed as Sora redirected the nunchucks. With a flick of her wrist, she swung them at the back of Seoyeon’s head.

This was a move impossible with a regular weapon, but nunchucks made it possible.

Too late, Seoyeon realized what was happening, her eyes shifting.

Thwack!

The nunchucks struck Seoyeon’s body at that exact moment. Yeohwa, the character Seoyeon was playing, had regeneration powers.

But she had two weaknesses.

One was the head.

The other was the heart.

Getting hit on the back of the head could be fatal. Depending on the circumstances, it could be judged as a death blow.

Seoyeon blocked the strike with her right hand just in time, her body jerking forward as if she had taken a heavy blow.

The audience gasped as they watched the scene unfold.

“At that moment, it felt like I was watching an actual movie.”

Reporter Kim Min-woo, who had watched from the audience, later recalled the moment.

“If not, there’s no way I would’ve been speechless like that.”

Yeohwa, who had blocked the nunchucks with her hand, let her right arm drop limply, as if to suggest it had been broken.

And it certainly looked that way.

Taking advantage of the opening, Shin Arin—Sora—mercilessly swung her nunchucks at Seoyeon once more.

"I may not look like it, but I’ve trained in martial arts."

Taekwondo second dan, Hapkido third dan.

She had also practiced kendo.

And twice a month, she liked to spar at a mixed martial arts gym.

"Are you asking if I could pull that off?"

He crossed his arms and tilted his head in thought.

"Hmmmm."

Then, he let out a baffled laugh.

"Haha, of course not. No way. How could I do something like that?"

He waved his hands dismissively.

"How could anyone dodge a weapon being swung that fast? Especially nunchucks, they’re even faster."

The weapon seemed to move at lightning speed in the wielder’s hand. Even though bare hands should theoretically be faster.

Yet, Seoyeon dodged it. She dodged nunchucks being swung directly at her.

Sora’s strikes came at her shoulder, chest, waist, and head in quick succession.

And then, spinning around, Sora aimed for Seoyeon’s legs.

The entire audience held their breath as they watched.

“Could this be choreographed action? I’ll definitely have to ask the two actors about this later.”

Everyone wanted to know how they managed to pull off such action sequences.

And just as the reporter said, the audience was mesmerized by the scene unfolding on the screen.

As the nunchucks swung toward her legs, Seoyeon rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow.

Then, as Sora charged at her again, Seoyeon kicked a nearby chair toward her.

“Ugh!!”

Sora reflexively leapt to the side, dodging the chair.

Seeing this, Yeohwa let out a mocking laugh.

“Isn’t this the kind of thing you’d see in a Hong Kong movie?”

Using props like chairs in a fight was a common trope in Hong Kong action films, and Yeohwa seemed to be referencing that.

‘Her right hand...’

Now that Sora looked closely, she realized that Seoyeon’s right hand, which had been hanging limply moments ago, was moving again.

Had her regeneration completed?

Though her right hand had healed, her left hand now hung limply.

As a character with regenerative powers, Yeohwa had to get hit to show off her ability. Just as before, she had taken blows to both arms and her waist.

Each time, she had convincingly acted as though she had taken serious damage, which made Sora believe her strategy was working.

“You sure are tough for someone who’s taken so many hits,” Sora remarked in halting Korean.

She didn’t want to fall behind in dialogue, knowing it wouldn’t benefit her to lose the verbal exchange as well.

In response, Seoyeon raised her right hand and smashed a nearby case with it.

Inside the case, which was made of sugar glass, was a weapon.

A red fire axe.

Yeohwa’s lips curled into a smirk as she laid eyes on it.

“I hope you’re tough, too.”

With the axe in hand, Yeohwa charged at Sora.

A weapon!

Up until now, Yeohwa had fought unarmed, but now, for the first time, she was attacking first with a weapon.

‘This is dangerous.’

Before Sora could even process what was happening, the axe swung toward her, striking the foam wall behind her with a loud crash.

The Styrofoam wall cracked under the impact, and Sora’s eyes twitched in disbelief.

‘Isn’t that weapon supposed to be made of sponge?’

It was supposed to be a denser sponge, but it had just cracked the Styrofoam wall?

For a moment, even Seoyeon seemed surprised that the wall had broken, her body freezing in place.

For the first time, there was a delay in Seoyeon’s movements.

‘Now’s my chance!!’

Sora swung her nunchucks toward the opening, and Yeohwa’s eyes followed the trajectory.

Yeohwa yanked the axe from the wall and deflected the nunchucks with the blade, as if she knew she couldn’t overpower Sora with brute force.

Rather than blocking the nunchucks directly, she twisted the axe to redirect them.

If the weapons had been made of metal, the force might have dented or twisted them. But since both were soft sponges, the nunchucks bounced off like springs.

As the nunchucks flew into the air, Seoyeon snatched them mid-flight.

Then, with the axe raised high, she brought it down vertically.

Crunch!

The nunchucks shattered into pieces and fell to the floor.

With both of her hands now empty, Sora lunged at Yeohwa.

She aimed for her throat and chest, but before she could land a hit, Yeohwa’s body surged forward, and her shoulder slammed into Sora’s chest.

“......!!”

Sora was thrown to the ground. The floor, padded with soft mats, cushioned her fall, but she hastily tried to push herself back up.

“Ah.”

But a red fire axe was now inches from her face.

And with that, the finals of Hyper Action Star came to a dramatic close.

Not without its share of surprises.

The show Hyper Action Star, which had gained popularity for its audition to select the lead actor for an upcoming movie, had come to an end.

Aside from the early hype surrounding Group A, the show had struggled with low ratings.

Though there had been a slight rebound, the general opinion remained lukewarm. It was, after all, not a typical audition but more of a variety show, with less emphasis on acting and more on simple entertainment.

“Well, that’s just how these promotional audition shows go.”

“Still, wasn’t it kind of fun?”

Reactions were generally mixed, but the show had managed to maintain decent ratings—an average of over 6%.

For a cable variety show, those numbers were quite impressive, and everyone was satisfied.

Even if the show had ended here, most would have been content.

But then, the finale exploded in popularity.

[The spectacular finale of Hyper Action Star wasn’t pre-choreographed?] [Narumi Sora: ‘It felt like we were really fighting.’]

Articles like these quickly spread, setting the internet ablaze.

Yeohwa, the character, became a hot topic.

Though portrayed as a villain, she was the ultimate victor.

Though some of the improvised lines felt awkward, they had been more than enough to draw viewers in.

With action scenes dominating, many found the finale entertaining.

What had been expected to be a mere 5-minute action scene had stretched to nearly 15 minutes, flooding the internet with clips and memes.

In Ju Seoyeon’s fan community, many hailed her performance as the best they’d ever seen.

Thus, Ju Seoyeon was chosen as the lead for Mine. There weren’t many dissenting opinions about the decision.

Though some people jokingly suggested she might want to try UFC instead of acting...

Either way.

Having secured the lead role in Mine, Ju Seoyeon soon found herself in high demand.

“Seoyeon, you’ve got a public service ad offer.”

“Huh? For me? From where?”

“The fire department.”

“......”

Seoyeon let out an exasperated sigh as the flood of CF offers continued to pour in.