I May Be a Virtual Youtuber, but I Still Go to Work

Meanwhile, at the exact same moment—
At the hospital, Momo and Taro were once again locked in a tense standoff, something that hadn’t happened in a while.

“We need to keep all the doctors and nurses concentrated at the central point during the Wide-Area Faction War,” Momo insisted.
“Director, if we do that, we’ll be slow to respond to medical needs in the East and West. For now, it’s better to keep things split between those two areas,” Taro countered.
The reason for their argument was the upcoming Wide-Area Faction Wars scheduled for Day 3—the midpoint of Week 2—and the final Day 6.

Unlike the standard faction battles, which involved attacking or defending one zone from each side, the Wide-Area Faction War was different.
During this limited-time event, any and all zones captured during the match would permanently belong to the side that took them.
Essentially, it was a giant timed land-grab contest.

And the structure of it made it wildly different from normal faction battles.
It allowed for deep infiltration into enemy territory—into zones that couldn’t normally be defended—causing total chaos in the rearguard.
In this event, there was a specific debuff: any equipment below S-tier would be destroyed upon incapacitation.

Even with that risk, capturing a zone deep inside enemy lines meant it could later serve as a launch point for an assault on their stronghold in the next battle.
If, during a faction war, a mafia group lost the zone containing their hideout, a siege battle would trigger immediately.
And if they lost that too—if their base was taken—they’d be forced to disband.

So naturally, both the East and West factions were expected to infiltrate deep behind enemy lines and disrupt the battle lines however they could.
Taro, the deputy director, believed that medical personnel needed to be pre-positioned in the East and West to handle incapacitations quickly.
Meanwhile, Momo, the director, argued that it was better to keep the team centralized and dispatch them one by one to each area as needed—without overlapping.

“If we deploy from the center, we’ll be late. What if that delay costs us the whole match?”
“We don’t even know which side will take the most casualties. If we split them East and West and one side gets hit hard, we’ll waste more time just getting across the map.”
“In that case, we can just flex our coverage based on the situation.”

“You do realize the doctors and nurses are watching us argue and getting nervous, right?”
“I know—but saving lives comes first.”
“And you think I’m here not trying to save lives?”
“My method’s clearly more efficient, Director.”

“There she goes again, Deputy Director. If I bother you that much, why don’t you just take over my job?”
“Should I? I’ll happily give you the deputy director title.”
The tension was thick enough to chew through, and the surrounding medical staff—doctors and nurses alike—watched in anxious silence, unable to even touch their snacks.

Click.
The door creaked open, and a small girl walked in.
“Hello!”

A chirpy voice rang out. Everyone turned their heads—and there she was.
A girl dressed in a ridiculously frilly outfit, like she had walked straight out of an anime.
It was Tia (Magia).
“Um… Is the director here?”

“Oh, uh—she’s over there on the left.”
Magia marched right up and stopped in front of Cheon Do-hee.
“The police said there’s gonna be a huge incident in two days. Like, a ton of people are gonna die.”

“…What?”
Cheon Do-hee already knew that Tia was a chaos gremlin—and that she was, in fact, Magia.
But in-character, she had to pretend otherwise.

So she prodded gently, “What do you mean? Can you tell me a little more? Everyone, come closer.”
At her call, the doctors and nurses gathered in a huddle.
They were all the type to wander around the server like NPCs, picking up on every little interesting story, so Magia’s bombshell instantly snapped their attention to full.

“In two days, during the Wide-Area Faction War, there’s a chance Darai and Red Hood might show up!”
The name Darai dropped like a stone in water.
Everyone gasped and started mumbling the things they knew.

Maybe it was because the hospital was mostly staffed by female streamers, but the moment Darai’s name came up, the place turned into a buzzing market.
“What’s she planning this time?”
“I heard the shooting club got totally robbed by Red Hood.”
“Wait, seriously? How?”
“Got blindsided. They say she made off with everything while they were clashing with the cops.”
“Actually, I heard both the police and the shooting club got wrecked by Darai at the same time.”
“For real? She got them both? What even is she…?”
“Then why didn’t that news spread?”
“Maybe the shooting club kept it under wraps out of embarrassment?”
“I know someone in that circle. Gonna ask him.”
“Let me know too—I’m curious!”
Cheon Do-hee cleared her throat loudly, and everyone instantly fell silent, shifting their attention back to her.

Magia resumed speaking.
“Red Hood is apparently planning to strike right when the two factions collide—trying to weaken everyone in one go.”
The reason she’d target the Wide-Area Faction War?

As previously mentioned, the second someone was incapacitated, all weapons below S-tier would be destroyed.
Between both sides, about 100–200 players would be in that battle.
Imagine that many weapons vanishing in an instant.

The damage would be astronomical.
Magia was giving this warning in advance to stop it from spiraling into UFC-level chaos.
Cheon Do-hee, who grasped her intention, responded.

“That’s unexpected. Darai’s not the type to just leak intel like this.”
Magia grinned.
“Maybe that’s part of the fake-out too?”

“Not impossible. That one’s never had a plan exposed before. Kinda weird that now they’re conveniently leaking it.”
“Whoa, the hospital director’s so smart.”
“I get that a lot.”

Cheon Do-hee puffed up with pride—only for Magia’s teasing jab to land right on cue.
“But the deputy director totally owned you just now.”
“…?”

Pfft.
Khuhh…
Stifled laughter broke out from the doctors and nurses in the back.

That one came out of nowhere.
Cheon Do-hee didn’t even have time to snap at them—she just glared daggers at Magia.
“You’ve really got no filter, huh? If you’re done, could you please leave?”

“Okay! But I actually need to talk to the deputy director!”
“…? Weren’t you here for me?”
Didn’t she ask for the director earlier?

As Cheon Do-hee tilted her head, the nurse who’d escorted Magia raised her hand sheepishly.
“Ah, uh, I didn’t hear clearly back then. But actually, she did say she was looking for the deputy director!”
“…?”

What kind of nonsense…
Come to think of it, Magia never mumbles—but this time, she had deliberately lowered her voice just enough for only Do-hee to mishear.
Annoyed but defeated, Do-hee stepped aside, and Magia walked up to Taro and said,

“Deputy Director, would you be able to station yourself near the Study Abroad Group during the Wide-Area Faction War?”
“You mean me?”
“Yes. The police said the most dangerous spot is going to be around Binyeo unni, the Study Abroad boss. So we’d like the hospital’s best to be there—meaning you.”

Do-hee coughed loudly and stepped forward.
“Why not just leave it to me? I’m plenty capable.”
“But Director, you’re already in charge of the East, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”
“I’ll handle it, Director.”
Taro gave a short chuckle and stepped in between Magia and Cheon Do-hee.
“Let’s just go with the Director’s plan. But I’ll be the one stationed next to Binyeo that day.”

“Wait, why are you agreeing now...?”
“My apologies. I forgot my place as Deputy Director and overstepped.”
“No, I mean—why now?!”

Cheon Do-hee was fuming. Taro and Magia were acting like they’d rehearsed this whole thing, and it was driving her up the wall.
But there was no taking back what she’d already said.
Just a moment ago, she was furious that the Deputy Director wouldn’t follow orders. If she suddenly reversed herself now, it would look like she was changing her tone because she knew Tia was actually Magia.

And this was an RP server.
Acknowledging that out of character would break immersion.
So all she could do was watch Magia and Taro step off to the side, chatting quietly in private.

— Aah
— Aaah...
— And just like that, Momo loses Magia…
— Oof
— RP redpill talk is forbidden~
— (This message has been blocked)
So, what did Magia pull Taro aside to say?
“Why is Binyeo supposedly in the most danger? Why would Darai target her specifically?”

“Oh, the police guy said that. I just passed on what I heard!”
“Really?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Magia smiled innocently, but Taro had been feeling uneasy about her from the moment she walked in.
She’d responded to countless emergencies. She’d met and helped countless people.
And with her sharp memory, she generally remembered faces and names pretty well.

But she had never once come across someone using the RP name “Tia.”
Not only that, she’d never heard anyone else mention that name either.
Someone with that unusual appearance, running around with that kind of character setup, and no one in Lightning Metropolis had talked about her?

That didn’t add up.
“They said Darai has mysterious helpers, didn’t they…”
According to intel gathered through the cooperation of the police, the mafia, and civilians, Darai wasn’t acting alone.

There was no way someone who’d been goofing off during the early days of the server could suddenly cause this much chaos by themselves.
But despite that, there had been almost no confirmed sightings of these helpers.
Even when there were claims, it was usually vague—stuff like “a flying motorcycle.”

Which only reinforced the idea that whoever was backing Darai from the shadows was smarter and more cunning than she was.
Could it be…?
There was only one person Taro knew who was clever, meticulous, and manipulative enough to pull this off.

Someone who, in the beginning, even made Taro look like a fool.
Someone who could commit crimes while toeing the line so smoothly it looked unintentional.
There was only one like that in Lightning Metropolis.

“You… Are you sure you really don’t know anything?”
Magia replied sweetly.
“Yes! The police just asked me to come and relay the message to the hospital.”

“They could’ve sent anyone—why you?”
“The station’s super busy right now. They said this time, they’re finally going to catch Darai and shut down Red Hood’s scheme. Maybe I just looked like I had nothing better to do?”
“Is that so…?”

In truth, the hospital staff didn’t normally play a central role in Lightning Metropolis’s overarching storylines.
But despite behaving like NPCs, they were at the heart of the information network.
Intel came in through the hospital, got amplified, and spread outward.

Even people who otherwise had no connection to each other would bond during recovery—and that’s how Lightning Metropolis’s medical staff naturally became the links between storylines.
So right now, Magia was deliberately wagging her tail in front of Taro.
She couldn’t develop the story naturally with Momo, who knew everything.

But Taro? She was smart—and interested in Magia.
Which meant she might be able to see through the Tia mask and recognize who was really behind it.
And sure enough…

After watching Magia quietly for a while, Taro finally said,
“Two days from now—stay somewhere safe, okay? The whole place is gonna be a warzone. Don’t go wandering around and get yourself hurt.”
That was a warning.

If she was caught wandering during the chaos, it could be used as proof that she was working with Red Hood and helping Darai.
“But if I do get hurt, you’ll save me, won’t you, Deputy Director?”
“Hmm? I’ll be protecting Binyeo, though.”

“Ah-cha-cha~”
Magia covered her mouth with both hands and scurried off.
But even with her hands up, she didn’t quite manage to hide the sly smirk curling at the corners of her lips.

It was deliberate.
Taro stood there, thinking.
Why had Magia dropped that hint just for her?

What was she trying to provoke—or manipulate?
Ah…
She was a friend of Cheon Do-hee, once called the queen of improv RP.

She’d learned the ropes of the streaming world from Do-hee, absorbing condensed knowledge and climbing fast.
To someone like her, this whole thing was WWE.
“Is she setting me up to save her in the clutch…?”

If she asked Do-hee directly for help during a crisis, people might accuse Parallel of nepotism.
That’s why she came to Taro ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) instead.
And she gave her a choice.

If the police caught her, Taro could just stand back and hand her over later.
But she was also free to help her escape.
The decision—and its consequences—would be on Taro.

But really, Taro only had one choice.
“She’s assuming I’ll pick the ‘rescue’ option no matter what…”
Three years ago, Taro made her an offer.

“Come work with me.”
“I can get you into Bachubachu with a single recommendation.”
“You’ll get corporate benefits, a high starting position. Doesn’t matter what your background is. Just start as a manager.”

But Magia turned her down.
Instead, she chose to follow Cheon Do-hee and take the harder path.
Even though Parallel was starting from nothing—despite Shirahoshi Momo’s fame—going up against the entire Korean VTuber scene, already dominated by Bachubachu?

Taro hadn’t made another offer since.
But honestly? Seeing that so-called doomed venture crawling its way up to Bachubachu’s level?
She regretted not trying harder to win her over.

Cheon Do-hee didn’t fully grasp Magia’s potential back then.
But Taro did.
Someone who loved VTubers and understood the ecosystem deeply.

Someone with a cute but captivating voice. Someone who could sing at a professional level.
Taro had recognized that raw gem before anyone else.
Still, even with those regrets, asking her to switch sides now would be unethical.

So Taro had made up her mind—she’d do what she could two days from now.
Holding onto that same thought, she would stay close to Magia.
Let the world see and speculate about the bond between them.

And maybe, just maybe… let that connection grow on its own.
“Well—no one can run forever.”