"Channel monetization meeting."

I absentmindedly repeated the words Rion had just said.

That’s when it hit me. The reason my life hadn’t changed much since becoming a VTuber.

It was because I wasn’t getting paid yet.

Of course, corporate VTubers get a base salary to some extent. But since it had only been about a week since I started, I hadn’t even received my first paycheck.

"When the channel gets monetized, you’ll earn a percentage of the ad revenue and donations… though that percentage isn’t as high as you’d think."

YouTube takes about 30% off the top.

And the remaining 70% is split between the company and the VTuber, but the split depends on the company. Usually, the VTuber gets around 10% to 30% of that 70%.

"You don’t earn as much as I thought." "That’s how it is for corporate VTubers. Independent VTubers get to keep the full 70%, though." "Oh, then wouldn’t it have been better to go independent?" "Would you rather earn 70% of a hundred thousand yen, or 30% of a million?"

That’s the difference between independent and corporate VTubers.

"And even the earnings you don’t keep are ultimately spent on you—like when they fund your new outfit or 3D modeling." "I see, it’s more complicated than I thought."

Well, either way, earning money isn’t a bad thing. The main reason I became a VTuber in the first place was because my bank account was drying up.

'Ah, is that why people quit being VTubers and become streamers instead?'

I suddenly remembered something Anna had mentioned. She talked about why some VTubers transition to streamers or start fresh as new VTubers.

Independent VTubers get to keep more of their earnings but often have fewer subscribers, meaning they don’t make as much. Corporate VTubers keep less, but with a larger subscriber base, they earn more overall.

So, the best scenario is having a large subscriber base and keeping more of your earnings.

In that case, couldn’t someone build a huge subscriber base as a corporate VTuber, then leave the company and go independent to make tons of money?

"There are some people who’ve done that, but of course, the company isn’t stupid. There are clauses and contracts to prevent that." "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

For now, I had no plans to leave the company.

Even if I eventually transition to streaming, I wanted to take the time to really understand both the VTuber and streamer worlds first.

"Anyway, it’s about monetization. You’re fine with the channel being monetized, right? No objections?" "Of course. That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about at the meeting."

"Is the meeting really necessary? Are you planning to drag a noblewoman like me all the way out there?"

"Please keep the roleplay to your streams, okay? You also need to sign the contract in person. Technically, we could handle it with an electronic contract, but they also want the 6th gen to meet each other in person."

"Why?"

I tilted my head. Was it really that important?

Rion responded:

"They're planning to produce a 6th gen music video."

["I once had my own beliefs."] ["I kept creating endlessly."] ["It didn’t matter if it wasn’t profitable♪"]

Music filled the room. At some point, my life had become consumed by songs.

The silent world had become unbearable to me.

From the moment I woke up to when I fell asleep, even in my dreams, the music never stopped.

That’s why Seo Sora became Ayanokoji Sora.

There are many ways to make a career out of singing. You can become a singer or an idol.

But I figured that wasn’t going to be easy. Plus, singing J-POP might be challenging too.

What sealed the deal for me was a certain song.

["Touch me and you’re arrested☆ Roll call in jail!"]

...Who could’ve imagined that a VTuber song would become a global hit?

Now that I was over 20, becoming an idol seemed too late for me.

But with VTubers having songs that dominated the world, I figured there was potential in this industry.

If I gained enough popularity as a VTuber, I could release original songs. With 3D modeling, I could participate in live events and perform. Eventually, I could even hold a solo concert.

And if one of my songs became a hit, that would be the jackpot.

Of course, things wouldn’t go that smoothly.

So, I kept my expectations low. The higher the hopes, the bigger the disappointment if things didn’t work out.

But I hadn’t even achieved that small goal, and that was the most frustrating part.

【Aurora】 Subscribers: 154,256
【Inagika】 Subscribers: 14,842
【Chell Sumeragi】 Subscribers: 11,056
【Ayanokoji Sora】 Subscribers: 9,321

Tch, am I stuck behind some invisible barrier?

Why haven’t I even passed the 10,000-subscriber mark?

I might have underestimated the VTuber world. But it wasn’t like I hadn’t put in the effort. That’s probably why it hurts even more.

If I hadn’t tried, at least I could accept it. But ever since I was rejected from the 5th gen auditions last year, I’ve been studying everything about being a VTuber.

They say effort never betrays you, but I feel like I’ve been royally betrayed.

Still, that’s how the world works.

Just because you try doesn’t mean you’ll always succeed. In fact, it often seems like the opposite.

"Aah."

I let out my voice. My throat feels a little off today.

Singing might make me feel better, but my body just wouldn’t allow it right now.

...Maybe I should just let it go.

The only reason I was in pain was because I’d placed so much meaning on everything. I wanted to be better than my peers. I wanted to be popular, to succeed through my songs, to gain more subscribers.

If I didn’t care so much, maybe I wouldn’t feel this way. But is it even possible to just let go?

Emotions aren’t something you can just erase at will.

♪♬♩♪♪♩♬

Amid the music filling the room, there was a disruption.

I reached out, seeing my phone vibrating. It was from "Manager Lee Jung-woo."

With a sigh, I stopped the music and answered.

"Hello." [Hello, Sora. How have you been?] "I’ve been fine, thanks to you. What’s the occasion?"

I responded cheerfully, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

I didn’t want to let on that I’d been feeling down. I didn’t want to show any weakness. After all, my relationship with the manager was still surface-level.

[Well, we need you to come to the office.] "To the office? Is something wrong?" [Oh, no. It’s about monetizing your channel.]

"That was fast! It’s already been approved?"

[Yes, it went through. In the past, YouTube was stricter about monetization, but these days, it gets approved pretty quickly.]

Manager Lee Jung-woo explained.

I knew this already.

Back in 2018, when VTubers weren’t fully accepted yet, getting monetization was tough. It usually took at least a month or two, and even a slightly suggestive video could lead to rejection.

Some VTubers had to wait six months to get monetized, and others who managed to get approved had their monetization revoked after singing a few songs.

Compared to that, now it only took about two weeks post-debut to get monetized.

It was a sign of how much perceptions of VTubers had changed.

[So, we need you to sign the contract. And we’re planning to hold a 6th gen meeting.]

"...A 6th gen meeting? Offline?" [Yes. The 6th gen has been surprisingly successful, so we thought it would be a good opportunity to discuss a few things.]

"So, I’ll be meeting the other members in person?" [Exactly.] "......"

I didn’t like that.

Before debut, I might have boasted to Inagika and Chell. Since both of them were so quiet, I had assumed myself to be the de facto leader of the 6th gen.

As for Aurora... well, the moment I met her on Discord, my confidence crumbled. I knew I couldn’t beat her. Losing to her was inevitable.

Still, I thought I could win in the long run since she didn’t know much about being a VTuber.

I figured I could take the lead and gain popularity.

'...And yet, I’m in last place.'

How humiliating will it be after all that boasting?

Honestly, it’s starting to make me feel depressed.

[Is something wrong? Are you okay?] "Oh, no... Everything’s fine."

That’s all I could say.

...What else could I do?

When you’re a part of society, you have to follow orders.

With a quiet sigh, I resigned myself.

【Ayanokoji Sora】 Subscribers: 9,975

Sunday arrived.

Time kept moving, and Sora couldn’t stop it. ...It’s merciless, really.

Wouldn’t it be nice if time could pass more kindly? Why hadn’t I managed to surpass 10,000 subscribers by now?

Is it some kind of invisible barrier?

As if the world was telling me, This is as far as you go. Don’t even dream of going further. You’re too arrogant, and now you’ll crawl in the dirt.

That’s how it felt.

As the days passed, Sora started to give up a little more each day. ...At least let me hit 10,000. Just that much, please.

Despite these desperate thoughts, people don’t change so easily.

Yeah, my subscriber count might be low, but I’ll have the upper hand in real life.

Inagika? I don’t even need to meet her to know she’ll avoid eye contact.

Chell? She’s probably not much different from Inagika. Just like on Discord, she’ll sit quietly like a useless sack of rice.

'Right. What do I have to be afraid of?'

I’m good-looking, after all. In real life, I’ll easily overpower my peers.

Sora was clinging to this hope, trying to restore her shattered self-esteem.

She desperately wanted to regain her confidence.

With a forced smile on her face, Sora walked toward the company building.

And then she stopped.

"…Aurora?"

Sora muttered as soon as she saw her.

A woman stood in front of the company, holding a parasol.

Wearing a simple black dress, she exuded an elegance that was impossible to ignore.

Those crimson eyes.

Sora recognized her face immediately.

How could she not? It looked exactly like her character model.

"That voice… Sora, is that you?"

Aurora lifted her head a moment later and smiled devilishly.

...Her dueling skills must not have been a lie. She recognized me instantly.

Looking into those mesmerizing eyes, Sora let out a sigh.

Self-esteem restoration… failed.