I Want to Be a VTuber

"Silence" was a song by Shin Wanseok, the lead vocalist of Sacrifice, one of Korea’s iconic bands. It wasn’t just an ordinary song, though—it was the theme song of an anime.

When the anime was first imported from Japan, the studio had swapped in a new song rather than using the original Japanese track. Though controversial at the time, Silence was so well-received, and with Shin Wanseok as the vocalist, any criticism quickly faded away.

Over the years, many had forgotten the song, though it still lived on in the memories of some. Who would have thought it would reappear on Masked Singer of all shows?

What intrigued fans even more was that a female singer had chosen this song—quite the unexpected twist.

Originally, Silence was a ballad with hints of intensity, and fans thought Manlap Rabbit’s usual vocal style would suit that sound. But the arrangement was different this time.

It started with a sharp electric guitar riff that transitioned into a soaring high note.

The arrangement had an upbeat energy but retained the essence of Silence. The person who rearranged it must have been remarkably skilled.

As the song progressed, the audience’s expressions shifted from initial cheers to something deeper. Was it a negative reaction? Not at all—the opposite, in fact.

The song had a captivating power that made people stop and listen, almost as if drawing them into a trance.

Manlap Rabbit’s singing seemed to have that effect—a way of pulling at people’s emotions.

It was her strongest weapon—the ability to evoke empathy and bring out people’s feelings, allowing listeners to connect naturally with the melody. That emotional pull was likely why Manlap Rabbit had advanced through so many rounds.

The community and social media activity dropped significantly until the end of Manlap Rabbit’s song, a testament to how focused the audience was.

And then, with a final flourish of guitar notes, Manlap Rabbit’s performance concluded.

Everyone had assumed Gray Crow would win the final. In fact, some thought it would be an easy victory.

But now that Manlap Rabbit had finished singing, opinions were suddenly split. If anything, the crowd seemed to favor Manlap Rabbit.

Comments flooded in, asking who Manlap Rabbit could be. The host and panel members showered her with praise.

"This song was actually the song that brought her parents together."

In the disguised voice of a masked contestant, she shared that this song had been the one that brought her parents together.

Manlap Rabbit’s words didn’t sound entirely believable, but, well, they clapped politely anyway. Wow, amazing how this song connected your parents!

But in the audience, Sua and Youngbin simply hid their faces in their hands, not expecting their daughter to introduce the song in such a way.

Regardless...

"And now, for the final showdown! Do you think you’ll be able to claim victory over your formidable opponent, Manlap Rabbit?"

The host, Song Byeong-soo, shouted the question, and Gray Crow stepped to the center, gripping the mic tightly.

"My memories will win."

The confident declaration was met with cheers from the audience, and Gray Crow responded with a dramatic gesture, punctuated by the sound of a guitar strum.

The style was similar, with a strong OST vibe rather than a typical Korean track.

People speculated if it might be an original song, as it didn’t sound like anything they’d heard.

There was no rule against performing original songs on Masked Singer, but usually, contestants avoided it. The risk was high, as it might seem like a new song release.

‘What kind of song is this?' ‘Is it another anime song?’

Most people couldn’t place it, but when Gray Crow started singing, the atmosphere completely shifted.

It was a refreshing melody, similar to the style Manlap Rabbit had been singing in, yet distinctly different.

Her skill and vocal techniques were outstanding. Even if listeners didn’t quite resonate with the song, they found themselves nodding along.

There was a divide on empathy; some couldn’t quite connect with it.

But others felt the emotions within the song, naturally drawn in.

Then, there were comments like:

There was an odd allure, drawing people in despite its unfamiliarity.

"See? That’s the reaction you get when you pick such a random song," manager Song Aram said, watching the broadcast with Yeo-hee as she sipped her beer.

"Does that even matter right now? The real fun is coming."

"Well, she won, technically."

"She won by singing her own song?"

"It’s not exactly my song, okay? It’s not even copyrighted."

"Wow. Good job, really."

Song Aram sighed, fully aware of what was about to unfold next.

The song was never meant to resonate with the public. Yeo-hee had sung it as if tossing away the idea of the Hall of Fame—a song for just one person.

Naturally, it wouldn’t reach everyone.

'Overflowing with lingering feelings.'

She was just barely holding back from crossing the line.

Who knows how long this situation would last?

'Director Kang Tae-jin must have specifically edited it out.'

In the broadcast, Sua and Youngbin weren’t shown in the audience, probably to prevent people from guessing Manlap Rabbit’s identity.

The editing made sense.

Either way, the song was truly beautiful. Had Yeo-hee sung it for the public, she could have won their empathy.

But this was a song for just one person. Or maybe two.

For someone lingering in her heart and for the rabbit down below who looked up at her.

She called it an Opening.

Yeo-hee always said that her life was an opening act.

Apparently, this song was the foundation of that saying.

‘Though I don’t know if that sentiment came through.’

With the host dragging out the announcement of the winner, reactions from viewers became fiery.

This match had left too many questions unanswered, and Yeo-hee couldn’t help but feel pleased with her choice to perform.

Of course, she’d be crushed if she lost.

Regardless, as she listened to the show’s prolonged tension-building tactics, she couldn’t help but think.

Both Youngbin and Seoyeon had their own hesitations.

While she wasn’t sure what Seoyeon’s were about, she had an idea about Youngbin’s.

Now that he had responsibilities, he couldn’t recklessly chase after his dreams like he used to.

It wasn’t the wrong way to think—if anything, it was wise.

Still, Yeo-hee wanted to see more of the old him, the one who would rush headfirst into things.

"If you can do it but don’t, you’ll regret it, Youngbin."

As she thought of him, she sighed.

She believed he had people who would support him, who would stand by his side.

Certainly.

"Unnie, it’s up! The results are out!"

After a twenty-minute wait, the results of the Masked Singer finals finally appeared.

A narrow victory for Gray Crow by just two votes.

The outcome was decided by a single vote.

But more important than the result itself was what came afterward.

Yeo-hee was exchanging thumbs-up gestures with Youngbin, feeling a sense of connection.

For her, at least.

The issue was Seoyeon.

On Masked Singer, the loser had to reveal their identity by removing their mask.

Amidst the internet’s speculation:

"Now, Manlap Rabbit! Please take off your mask!"

At the host Song Byeong-soo’s command, Manlap Rabbit slowly removed her mask. A bit of force was needed, and with a bit of a struggle, the mask finally came off.

As it slipped, long black hair tumbled out, and a pair of red, rabbit-like eyes were revealed.

The moment her face was revealed, a stir swept through the audience and panelists alike.

Everyone assumed she was a singer, an idol, or someone in the music industry. Nobody expected her to be an actress.

They all knew Seoyeon hadn’t been studying music for very long, but with this level of skill?

‘Didn’t I do well hiding it?’

Yeo-hee squinted with a knowing look, realizing how perfectly the arrangement highlighted Seoyeon’s strengths.

Whoever did the arrangement was remarkably skilled.

"Manlap Rabbit is, in fact, actress Juseoyeon! Wow, how long have you been practicing singing?"

Even the host seemed genuinely amazed.

He couldn’t believe Seoyeon could sing this well.

In the heat of all these reactions, Seoyeon began to drop a few hints.

"I’ve been working on a lot of music projects lately, so I think that helped me improve quickly."

Talking about her recent music endeavors.

"An older sister who’s also in the drama with me helped a lot with the arrangement."

An older sister in the drama, and the only one who could work on music—Cha Na-hee from Summer Girls.

A fandom argument was about to start.

Satisfied with her performance, Seoyeon relaxed her shoulders.

Despite her loss in the finals, she looked oddly relieved, and some finally realized why.

There was no real reason for Seoyeon to appear on Masked Singer. The show had become a rehabilitation program for celebrities, so doing it for promotion was almost cute.

And the way Seoyeon shrugged, a classic move she used on variety shows when in a good mood, was instantly recognizable to her fans.

"Any last words you’d like to share?"

As the host asked, Seoyeon almost shook her head, then paused.

"Oh, actually, there is one last thing."

Yeo-hee and her manager, who had been too distracted to hear her earlier, exchanged glances and glued their eyes to the screen.

At that moment, Seoyeon’s words caused quite a stir.

‘I shouldn’t have skipped watching that clip,’ Yeo-hee thought.

Refusing the preview out of stubbornness, she had drawn plenty of scolding from Song Aram.

"Gray Crow’s song, I actually know it."

"Huh? Really? I thought it was an original."

Everyone thought it was an original, but Seoyeon had apparently heard it before.

Attention turned back to Yeo-hee’s song, with curious eyes on the screen.

Sua and Youngbin exchanged uneasy glances.

"Apparently, my parents were in a game club back in the day. They made a game together...and that song was part of it."

"An original song, right?"

"Yeah. I was surprised because the voice sounded familiar."

Seoyeon finished with a teasing expression as she stuck out her tongue at the Gray Crow.

At the time, no one had understood the meaning, but now it made sense—it was pure pettiness.

She had lost, sure, but she couldn’t help showing a bit of mischief.

But this was no small gesture.

‘Seriously, this girl...’

Realizing the full extent of the gesture, Yeo-hee grabbed her head with both hands.

And just then, her phone started blowing up like wildfire.