Jiyeon had anticipated this to some extent.
Seoyeon wasn’t one to lie.
If she couldn’t answer, she would simply avoid the question altogether.
Therefore, the fact that she had avoided answering meant it was essentially true.
In other words, it meant:
Currently, Ramiel had around 4,800 viewers in her stream—a staggering number.
Numbers like these were typically only achieved by the top corporate VTubers, and now they were being displayed on Ramiel’s stream.
Of course, more than half of them were probably just there out of curiosity.
For reference, Ramiel’s average viewership was about 500.
In other words, her audience had increased nearly tenfold.
“Oh, there are quite a few people here today.”
Her manager—Jiyeon’s actual manager, not just her VTuber manager—was doing her best to manage things.
But with a large crowd, there were inevitably more trolls.
And since a celebrity was watching, the interest was even greater.
“...Ah, I heard actress Ju Seoyeon is watching my stream. Let’s see.”
Though Ramiel’s voice was endlessly sweet, she was gritting her teeth behind the scenes.
For Jiyeon, VTubing was a healing activity.
“...”
Regardless, the superchats kept rolling in.
Seeing them, Jiyeon’s irritation melted away.
Unlike Seoyeon’s disruptive superchats, these were well-moderated by her manager.
After all, she was doing this to make money, and it was hard to be in a bad mood with so many superchats popping up.
“Oh.”
Ramiel had watched the latest episode of Golden Duckling featuring Seoyeon.
Episode 3 focused on two main events: watching an internet stream and a gym visit.
“Did she get caught pretending not to watch?”
Apparently, Seoyeon had tried to use her excellent acting skills to her advantage.
She’d sat there with an incredibly serious expression, staring at the monitor and taking notes.
Occasionally, there’d be a quiet click of the mouse.
To anyone watching, it looked like she was a student diligently studying an online lecture.
But then a suspicious character appeared on the monitor, revealing the truth.
Ramiel sighed as she read the chat.
Then...
A familiar nickname had sent a massive superchat.
From the outside, it might have seemed like that.
But Ramiel knew she’d have to return the money to Seoyeon.
Of course, she didn’t tell Seoyeon this.
“Thank you.”
Ramiel gave a polite thank-you as always and glanced at her manager.
Then Seoyeon was promptly banned from the stream.
Seoyeon’s habit of watching Ramiel’s streams had become quite the topic online.
After all, she’d worn an endlessly serious expression.
Watching VTubers as if she were studying would naturally raise questions.
Though it wasn’t something that had been revealed publicly, those who were active in certain online communities couldn’t help but notice the circulated screenshots.
There was heated debate over whether Seoyeon was genuinely into it or not.
Some even speculated that Seoyeon was the one constantly sending superchats and getting banned.
Of course, Jiyeon saw all of this and put Seoyeon on her ban list for a while.
There was another topic regarding Seoyeon circulating online, though.
The controversy started with the pool episode.
Seoyeon’s seemingly substantial weight became a topic of speculation when she sank into the water.
But those were just vague guesses.
Then, in episode 3, things got a bit more specific.
While the VTuber topic was a community-driven post-episode revelation, the gym segment drew more attention.
To keep her image, Seoyeon had been focusing on feminine exercises that day—light-weight squats for hip-ups and bodyweight exercises for flexibility.
“Seoyeon, are you okay? No heavy lifting today?”
“It’s a shame; lifting is usually the highlight.”
“You’re doing it? You look a bit weak today. Need a hand?”
Unaware they were on camera, the regulars kept coming up to Seoyeon with remarks like that.
To viewers, it could seem confusing.
“Are they serious?”
“No way.”
“But they seem oblivious to the cameras. Notice how they bleep out the curse words.”
Despite it all, Seoyeon kept going with her routine.
From what they showed, it seemed like a typical gym session for an actress.
The real problem came afterward.
“I’m going to do the Ju Seoyeon Challenge as Ju Seoyeon herself!”
“Oh! I was going to suggest it.”
“Well said! Let’s all try it after he does.”
Unlike the others, actor Jung Hyun-woo, who frequented the gym, had immediately caught on.
‘They’re filming Golden Duckling here today!’
After all, episode 1 had already aired.
There was no mistaking it.
The gym’s layout was slightly different, and there were cameras disguised as ceiling lights.
‘This is my chance.’
The so-called “trickle-down effect,” perhaps?
All those times he’d spent working out at the same gym as Seoyeon were finally paying off.
This was his moment!
‘If I make an impression here, it’s not just cable TV—I might make it to network dramas!’
He was confident in his looks.
He’d been working on his body, too.
Plus, he’d occasionally sought Seoyeon’s help with his acting.
Seoyeon, though young, was highly regarded for her acting prowess and offered genuinely thoughtful advice.
He had learned a lot from her—how to control his gaze, how to deliver lines.
Though she was much younger, Jung Hyun-woo had gained a lot from Seoyeon.
“What? The Ju Seoyeon Challenge?”
Seoyeon looked a bit taken aback.
“You need an Aidis chair for that. It’s not something a gym would have.”
“Oh, they have one! The manager bought it a while ago!”
“...”
Why would a gym have an Aidis chair?
Though perplexed, Seoyeon thought it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.
The Ju Seoyeon Challenge was usually failed by lighter individuals, so there’d be no shame if she couldn’t do it.
“All right, then. Sit down here.”
Hyun-woo took a deep breath.
Then, looking at Seoyeon sitting in the chair, he grabbed the bottom and... tried to lift it.
But he couldn’t.
“It’s not budging.”
“Hyun-woo, put your back into it.”
He wobbled.
It wasn’t the chair that wobbled, but Hyun-woo himself.
Seeing this, some of the other regulars joined in.
“Man, it’s not going to happen.”
“How did Seoyeon pull this off?”
Not knowing Seoyeon’s weight, the regulars chuckled and backed off.
The gym manager, however, who knew Seoyeon’s stats, simply trembled at the mouth, as if he’d seen this coming.
“Hyun-woo’s pretty cute.”
“The male actor who works out at the same gym as Seoyeon? I know him—he’s on cable shows.”
“Really?”
Alongside Ramiel, Hyun-woo was another who benefited from Golden Duckling.
It was funny watching him fail to lift Seoyeon, but he was handsome and in great shape.
The reaction was generally positive.
Of course, some were critical of Hyun-woo’s inflated muscles, but:
After Golden Duckling aired, there were reports that Hyun-woo had received some ad offers.
Naturally, he went to the gym and bowed deeply to thank Seoyeon.
While Ramiel and Hyun-woo gained, there were those who lost out—
Seoyeon’s father, Ju Young-bin, was one.
He had become a superstar in the online communities.
Now, whenever anything happened at RayWill Games, he would be the first to be dragged into the spotlight.
In contrast, Su-ah’s image was only positive, as was Su-yeon’s.
‘So... did my image improve?’
It was hard for Seoyeon to say if she had achieved her initial goal.
Following Seoyeon’s episodes, Golden Duckling wrapped up with rave reviews.
Director Jeon Ha-young was enthusiastic.
“Please come back next time! I’ll even get you a regular spot!”
It was no surprise—episode 2 of Ju Seoyeon’s segment had a viewership rating of 14%.
That was a rare figure to achieve in an era dominated by online content.
It wasn’t just Golden Duckling looking for Seoyeon.
“Don’t you know Ju Seoyeon? Could you ask her to come on our show?”
“Get in touch with Nova Entertainment. Seoyeon has amazing variety show talent.”
Various broadcasters, including KMB, reached out to her, wanting her for more variety show appearances.
While Seoyeon enjoyed filming variety shows,
‘It’ll probably be hard for a while.’
She might do more shows if the opportunity arose, but her schedule was currently packed.
After Golden Duckling, Seoyeon’s public image had softened considerably.
‘It’s an improvement, but...’
The violent gorilla-wielding image had faded significantly, likely because it had been an internet meme.
While she failed to project the intellectual honor student persona through Golden Duckling, she had become more relatable as a “daughter” or “sister” figure.
It was a sign of her increasing popularity.
‘The murderous image from Chase-ah has also faded considerably.’
Seoyeon was relieved.
She had worried about being typecast as a villain.
But she also didn’t want to gain a reputation for being overly bubbly, so she planned to manage her appearances carefully.
“By the way, Ju Seoyeon.”
“Yes?”
“Did it really have to be fishing?”
Jiyeon asked, her tone serious.
Today, they were scheduled to meet with actor Lee Sang-su.
They would be going sea fishing, just like they did when they filmed Star Fisherman.
“I’ve never fished before, and I’ve barely been on a boat.”
“Well, that’s good timing.”
Seoyeon answered nonchalantly as she packed her things.
She felt it was appropriate to bring Jiyeon, given that Jiyeon was the lead in Gyeongseong Lady.
After all, even Jo Seohui had contacted her personally the day before, asking if she could come along to meet Sang-su.
But Seoyeon had declined to bring all three of them.
Seohui seemed a bit disappointed, but ultimately, she understood.
“Just make sure to ask for Lee Sang-su’s support. However...”
“However?”
“Director Baek Min wants to see him act before finalizing his role.”
Seoyeon frowned at this.
While she understood the importance of casting based on talent rather than just a name,
‘Will Lee Sang-su agree?’
He was highly skeptical about acting these days.
In a few years, he would retire quietly, his last appearance being a forgotten Hollywood movie.
Seoyeon didn’t want that for him.
“Oh, Seoyeon! Always looking so healthy.”
At their meeting point, Lee Sang-su greeted them with a hearty laugh.
Jiyeon seemed a bit nervous, but both Sang-su and his longtime fishing buddy, Song Kwang-min, welcomed her warmly.
They were happy to have a new fishing novice join them, especially a girl who could be their daughter’s age.
“Here you go, Sang-su. Is this what you were looking for?”
“Thank you! Jiyeon, you’re very helpful.”
And so, they boarded the boat and began fishing.
Though Jiyeon had been initially reserved, she quickly grew comfortable around them.
Seeing her ease into conversation, Seoyeon marveled.
‘She’s really good at socializing.’
That must be why she excelled at internet broadcasting.
Jiyeon wasn’t good at fishing, but she was helpful in other ways.
She had a way with words and seemed to know exactly what the actors needed.
“If only I had a daughter like Jiyeon.”
“Exactly. She’s got it together.”
The two men chatted happily, while Seoyeon narrowed her eyes.
Despite all the fishing trips, they had never once mentioned wanting a daughter like her.
Not that they knew Seoyeon was eavesdropping.
Completely oblivious, they continued talking.
“Seoyeon makes me think I should get a puppy, though.”
“I know what you mean.”
Not realizing Seoyeon was listening, the two chatted on.
What’s this? Jiyeon’s a daughter, but I’m a puppy?
Seoyeon pouted, feeling slightly indignant.
Hahaha lol
Good
Good
Good