"Channel monetization meeting."
I absentmindedly repeated the words Rion had just said.
Thatâs when it hit me. The reason my life hadnât changed much since becoming a VTuber.
It was because I wasnât 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 hadnât even received my first paycheck.
"When the channel gets monetized, youâll earn a percentage of the ad revenue and donations⦠though that percentage isnât as high as youâd 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 donât earn as much as I thought." "Thatâs how it is for corporate VTubers. Independent VTubers get to keep the full 70%, though." "Oh, then wouldnât it have been better to go independent?" "Would you rather earn 70% of a hundred thousand yen, or 30% of a million?"
Thatâs the difference between independent and corporate VTubers.
"And even the earnings you donât keep are ultimately spent on youâlike when they fund your new outfit or 3D modeling." "I see, itâs more complicated than I thought."
Well, either way, earning money isnât 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 donât 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, couldnât 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 whoâve done that, but of course, the company isnât 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, itâs about monetization. Youâre fine with the channel being monetized, right? No objections?" "Of course. Thatâs 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 didnât matter if it wasnât profitableâª"]
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.
Thatâs 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 wasnât 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 youâre arrestedâ Roll call in jail!"]
...Who couldâve 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 wouldnât go that smoothly.
So, I kept my expectations low. The higher the hopes, the bigger the disappointment if things didnât work out.
But I hadnât even achieved that small goal, and that was the most frustrating part.
ãAuroraã Subscribers: 154,256
ãInagikaã Subscribers: 14,842
ãChell Sumeragiã Subscribers: 11,056
ãAyanokoji Soraã Subscribers: 9,321
Tch, am I stuck behind some invisible barrier?
Why havenât I even passed the 10,000-subscriber mark?
I might have underestimated the VTuber world. But it wasnât like I hadnât put in the effort. Thatâs probably why it hurts even more.
If I hadnât tried, at least I could accept it. But ever since I was rejected from the 5th gen auditions last year, Iâve been studying everything about being a VTuber.
They say effort never betrays you, but I feel like Iâve been royally betrayed.
Still, thatâs how the world works.
Just because you try doesnât mean youâll 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 wouldnât allow it right now.
...Maybe I should just let it go.
The only reason I was in pain was because Iâd 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 didnât care so much, maybe I wouldnât feel this way. But is it even possible to just let go?
Emotions arenât something you can just erase at will.
âªâ¬â©âªâªâ©â¬
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?] "Iâve been fine, thanks to you. Whatâs the occasion?"
I responded cheerfully, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.
I didnât want to let on that Iâd been feeling down. I didnât 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. Itâs about monetizing your channel.]
"That was fast! Itâs 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 werenât 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 weâre 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, Iâll be meeting the other members in person?" [Exactly.] "......"
I didnât 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 couldnât beat her. Losing to her was inevitable.
Still, I thought I could win in the long run since she didnât know much about being a VTuber.
I figured I could take the lead and gain popularity.
'...And yet, Iâm in last place.'
How humiliating will it be after all that boasting?
Honestly, itâs starting to make me feel depressed.
[Is something wrong? Are you okay?] "Oh, no... Everythingâs fine."
Thatâs all I could say.
...What else could I do?
When youâre a part of society, you have to follow orders.
With a quiet sigh, I resigned myself.
ãAyanokoji Soraã Subscribers: 9,975
Sunday arrived.
Time kept moving, and Sora couldnât stop it. ...Itâs merciless, really.
Wouldnât it be nice if time could pass more kindly? Why hadnât 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. Donât even dream of going further. Youâre too arrogant, and now youâll crawl in the dirt.
Thatâs 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 donât change so easily.
Yeah, my subscriber count might be low, but Iâll have the upper hand in real life.
Inagika? I donât even need to meet her to know sheâll avoid eye contact.
Chell? Sheâs probably not much different from Inagika. Just like on Discord, sheâll sit quietly like a useless sack of rice.
'Right. What do I have to be afraid of?'@@novelbin@@
Iâm good-looking, after all. In real life, Iâll 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.
"â¦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.