What Are My Colleagues to Me?

    They are ghosts.

    Phantom entities that exist only in the company’s personnel records.

    Technically, I was part of the Operations Team. My desk was even right next to the Operations Team Leader.

    But in practice, I was half removed from their actual work.

    The boss was the one who gave me assignments, and the boss was the one who received my reports.

    A strange, roundabout system—except it wasn’t strange at all.

    Whenever some disaster broke out in the streaming world, I was the one they tossed it to like some kind of private investigator.

    And if orders had to pass through another person first, our response time would slow down.

    In a field where something exploded every other day, the boss had no choice but to keep me as her personal problem solver.

    Because of that, I had never even considered what it would be like to work with someone.

    Watching multiple VTuber streams at once?

    Please.

    During big collabs, I always had at least five screens open—sometimes up to ten.

    Not every stream was a highlight reel.

    I’d mute the non-priority ones and switch focus as needed.

    Writing reports that were practically industry trend analysis papers was a bit tricky at first, but once I figured out the boss and the planning team’s preferences, it became second nature.

    The only painful part was being forced to watch our company’s VTubers instead of my own favorite streamers.

    But even that problem resolved itself after two months.

    Because when you put together a curated cast of streamers, hand-picked by the boss herself, their charms inevitably shine through.

    And I, a firm believer in "Falling for an oshi is like getting hit by a truck," was helpless to resist.

    Outside of streams, they were still chaotic disasters who kept screwing up and causing headaches.

    But the moment they went live, they were stars.

    Boss Momo’s shining idols, following in her footsteps.

    Overall, my job satisfaction was at an all-time high.

    I never felt overworked.

    I never worried about my workload increasing.

    I mean, I literally got paid to watch, analyze, and summarize VTuber streams.

    Why would I ever complain?

    Sure, I also managed broadcasting equipment, troubleshot live stream issues, enforced chat and donation rules, and kept other moderators in check—

    But those were self-imposed responsibilities.

    From my perspective, the highly educated, well-experienced professionals in the company shouldn’t waste their time on this.

    They should be planning high-profile collabs and making sure operations ran smoothly.

    Their efforts created better content and more successful events, which in turn strengthened Parallel’s financial health.

    But now... a junior colleague?

    Instead of excitement, I felt uneasy.

    I had worked alone for so long that I doubted I’d suddenly start working together with someone.

    If anything, I’d probably just let them fend for themselves.

    The reason I stuffed my report with every task I handled?

    Because I wasn’t going to be some kind, patient mentor hand-holding a newbie through each step.

    I wanted someone who could just do my job the way I did it.

    And if that wasn’t possible?

    Then we didn’t need to hire anyone at all.

    [Boss: Miss Magia.]

    [Boss: You’re not supposed to list all your own tasks.]

    [Boss: Just write what you actually need help with.]

    But the boss seemed dead set on recruiting someone.

    So, fine.

    If I had to choose just three key traits...

    Someone who genuinely loves watching all the members'' streams.Someone who can multitask like a god.Someone who understands tech and has good memory recall.

    The first two were essential for monitoring streams and writing reports.

    If I ever had to step away, they’d need to cover for me, even if it was just a rough summary.

    The third was for when I was assisting one member’s stream, and an equipment issue popped up somewhere else.

    They’d have to respond immediately.

    ...Honestly, I had at least three more points I wanted to add.

    But I left it at that.

    I didn’t bother mentioning personality traits like "must be diligent and responsible."

    The boss already filtered for that when hiring.

    I emailed the revised document and checked the clock.

    2 PM.

    Time for work.

    Barely hesitated before going straight into the final boss fight.Hit every single headshot.Coolly exited the game without celebrating.

    "I guess that’s enough for today."

    He sighed and leaned back.

    “Alright, it’s getting late. Let’s wrap things up with two casual squad matches before I log off.”

    — “LET’S GO”

    — “One last snipe~”

    — “Wait, it’s over already? Where did my time go?”

    — “Time to snipe the streamer.”

    :: Mission Alert ::

    :: Win the match and claim 100,000 Clouds (≈ $100). ::

    “Oh, a 100K mission? Thank you! I’ll try my best to get a win in two games.”

    — “EZ win incoming.”

    — “Let’s get this bread.”

    The final match of the night.

    Mugeon queued for random squads, curious about his teammates.

    One slot filled—then another.

    And then—

    [Player 3: MugeonIsAWell-KnownMomoAnti]

    “...?”

    The chat exploded.

    — “WTF.”

    — “EXCUSE ME?!”

    — “Is this an anti-fan?!???”

    — “Yo, who is this? LMAO”

    — “TELL ME THAT’S NOT SIGNAL FLARE.”

    But the nickname was... off.

    It felt less like Signal Flare and more like...

    An actual Momo anti-fan?

    A salty viewer who hated seeing Mugeon and Momo getting along?

    Maybe someone had sniped the queue just to troll.

    Curious, Mugeon turned on voice chat.

    “Hey, what’s up? Are you a viewer?”

    There was a brief pause.

    Then, the TTS (Text-to-Speech) voice kicked in.

    [YOU ARE WELL COME. MY GAME. FUN EXPECT. THANK.]

    Mugeon blinked.

    So did the chat.

    — “LMAOOOOO”

    — “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

    — “BRO WENT FULL GOOGLE TRANSLATE.”

    — “HELP I’M DYING.”

    A broken, robotic translation.

    It sounded like... a foreigner who used a bad translator just to join the match?

    Mugeon raised an eyebrow.

    “Wait, can you understand me? Do you understand my talk?”

    A long pause.

    Then—

    [YES. I AM PRO. KOREAN LISTENING SKILL GOOD.]

    — “STOP, I CAN’T BREATHE.”

    — “WHO IS THIS????”

    — “AN ACTUAL COMEDY LEGEND JUST APPEARED.”

    — “TTS CHAD.”

    At this point, Mugeon didn’t care.

    They could understand him, so it was fine.

    It was just a casual match, anyway.

    But then—

    The TTS player spoke again.

    [WANT BET. YOU AND ME. I WIN. YOU SAY. MUGEON IS OVERHYPED. I LOSE. I REVEAL. REAL VOICE.]

    The chat went silent for a moment.

    Then—

    — “WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN? LMAO”

    — “Wait, is this a bet??”

    — “BRO SAID YOU’RE OVERRATED LMAOOOO.”

    — “MUGEON, HE’S TALKING SHIT.”

    Mugeon squinted at the screen.

    He had encountered foreign viewers like this before.

    “You want to bet? Alright. What’s the bet?”

    [KILL. MORE NUMBER.]

    That got his attention.

    A kill race?

    Against a mystery guest who was already making the entire chat cry with laughter?

    Perfect YouTube content.

    Mugeon grinned.

    “Alright, deal.”

    He grabbed his sniper rifle—and, of course, his trusty pistol.

    It was time to end the night with a bang.

    “Let’s do this.”