Hobbyist VTuber-Chapter 223

"You're buying songpyeon from a rice cake shop? Heh, mine will taste way better~."

"How does she look?"

"She looks... happy, I think."

"Yeah, I’d say the same."

Shortly after, click.

The streaming window displaying Diah’s broadcast disappeared from Ji Hye-min’s monitor.

When she turned her head slightly, she met Nael’s gaze.

And that was when Ji Hye-min finally voiced the personal favor she had for her.

"I want Ha-eun to keep enjoying her streams just like she does now. Without constantly worrying about her Red Pill."

"M-me too. You know I’m a huge fan of Ha-eun-ssi, President."

"That’s exactly why I’m telling you this. Of course, none of this is your fault, but I’d like you to keep it a secret that she was being talked about."

Bringing up Ha-eun was another reason Nael had been called to the LUX headquarters today.

Officially, the meeting was to discuss how to handle Nael’s Red Pill situation.

But since they had already gone over how Nael should proceed with her broadcasts,

It was time for a different conversation.

"I know it might seem like I’m playing favorites with Ha-eun. But considering her circumstances, I can’t help but make this request."

"I-I don’t mind at all. Honestly, I’d be completely fine if you did outright favor her."

"Heh, I’ll consider it."

To Ji Hye-min, Ha-eun was more than just another Illusionary Realm VTuber.

If Ha-eun hadn’t kept watching her streams back then,

Ji Hye-min might have given up on streaming altogether.

She was well aware of that fact.

And so, she spoke in a more serious tone.

She asked Nael to support Ha-eun so she could continue streaming as Diah without fear or anxiety.

It might seem odd to ask a fellow Red Pill victim for help,

but still—

She hoped Nael would try.

"If Ha-eun ever asks you why I seem down, please just make something up. If she finds out it’s because of the Star Athletics Competition, she’ll feel guilty for no reason."

"Honestly, all I’ve seen online is praise. So I don’t actually feel bad at all... Hehe."

"...That’s a relief."

Regardless of the situation, Ji Hye-min had no intention of forcing Nael—or anyone else—

to be locked in their rooms, streaming all day.

But at the very least, she wanted to prevent Illusionary Realm VTubers from facing unintended backlash.

"For now, please avoid attending any broadcasts or events related to Ha-eun. Just for a while."

"Ah, understood."

Since Nael was already under the community’s scrutiny,

Ji Hye-min asked her to be extra cautious.

It wasn’t like Nael had done anything wrong,

but realistically speaking, being careful was necessary.

Of course, as Ha-eun’s devoted fan, Nael was ready to do anything.

Even if it meant giving up on tickets to the Leni & Ha-eun Joint Concert—

something she did with tears in her eyes.

[Lee Ji-hye (Nael)] - Asgard is... not the place...!

[Lee Ji-hye (Nael)] - I’ll be cheering from home, so stay strong, Ha-eun-ssi!!

[Lee Ji-hye (Nael)] - Fighting!!!

[Lee Ji-hye (Nael)] - Lee Ha-eun is the best!!!!!

[Lee Ji-hye (Nael)] - By the way, will the concert footage be released later?

[Lee Ji-hye (Nael)] - Just in case, I asked my friend to record it for me."

"There, see?"

"Tell her the full video will be uploaded on the official channel. Also... she really loves you, huh?"

"Honestly, I had no idea. I wasn’t like this before."

"Huh? What did you say? I didn’t catch that last part."

"Ah, uh, n-nothing. Just talking to myself. Don't mind me."

***

The first day of God and the Goblin filming after the Chuseok holiday.

Or more precisely—

The moment Ha-eun stepped onto set, having just finished her makeup.

"Please tell Ha-eun-ssi I need to see her for a moment."

Director Kwon Jae-hyeop called for Ha-eun before the shoot,

wanting to discuss something with her.

And once she approached him, the conversation began.

"Ha-eun-ssi, you were informed that we’re filming S#21 today, right?"

"Ah, yes. The writer already told me."

The scene she was set to film today was S#21.

But since it was a continuation of S#20,

she needed to be familiar with the previous scene.

"Read the synopsis for S#20 once more before we start."

"Got it."

"I know you’ll do well, Ha-eun-ssi. But this is a critical scene."

In S#20, Baeksulhwa, as usual, is working at a small shop.

Then, suddenly—she collapses, nose bleeding.

The reason?

She had been pushing herself past her limit with consecutive shifts since dawn.

Panicked, the shop owner calls an ambulance,

and Baeksulhwa is rushed to the emergency room.

After she regains consciousness, the doctor warns her about her deteriorating health

and advises her to take a break.

And with that, she is discharged.

The S#21 scene being filmed today takes place right after her discharge.

Baeksulhwa, now outside on the street,

monologues about her bleak circumstances—

only to run into Baek Jin once more.

"She looks fine now... but how will she handle it once filming starts?"

Since the core of S#21 was emotional acting,

this was an intense scene for Ha-eun.

She had to suppress a steadily building tide of emotions throughout the entire scene,

only to let it all explode at a single moment.

Even for veteran actors,

it was difficult to achieve such deep emotional immersion right from the first shoot.

No matter how skilled Ha-eun was,

there was no denying that this scene was tough.

So, Director Kwon Jae-hyeop waited patiently.

He didn’t rush her.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Instead, he gave her all the time she needed to mentally prepare.

Time passed.

And finally—

Eyes shut, emotions coiling deep inside her,

Ha-eun exhaled softly and spoke.

"I’m ready."

Only then did the director nod.

"Alright, then... cue!"

Thus, the S#21 street scene began filming.

The moment that marked the true beginning of God and the Goblin.

—Step.

—Step.

"................"

As she walked and walked through the empty streets, Baeksulhwa thought to herself.

She had endured every hardship imaginable from a young age.

So perhaps it was only natural that her body had begun to break down.

Perhaps it was inevitable—

to struggle against poverty until she collapsed, only to fall ill in the end.

"...Why."

A voice, laden with misery, broke the silence as she questioned the void.

Of all the people in the world, why her?

Men, women, children, and the elderly—

everyone in this world carried their own happiness.

So why was Baeksulhwa the only one condemned to misfortune?

"Why... why me..."

If gods existed, then they must truly despise her.

At least, that was what Baeksulhwa convinced herself to believe.

Because if she didn’t, she would crumble completely.

Because if she didn’t, she would never be able to accept her wretched reality.

And so, she resented the countless gods with their nameless, faceless forms.

Even knowing it was meaningless.

Even knowing that cursing them would change nothing.

But if she didn’t—if she didn’t scream out against the heavens—

then she wouldn’t be able to bear it.

"...How did I even come to think like this?"

This was the very scene that Writer Hong Soo-eun had completed with Ha-eun’s help.

Having never lived a life like Baeksulhwa’s,

she could never have imagined such lines—such expressions—on her own.

"...If this was how it was going to be, I wish I’d never been born at all."

She whispered, her gaze lifting toward the empty sky.

With no hand to hold.

Clutching only a small envelope of medicine in her palm.

Her reddened eyes glistened.

And finally, a single tear escaped, rolling down her cheek.

An indescribable loneliness.

A hollow emptiness, as though she were the last person left in the world.

To push away painful memories,

she acted—only to pull them closer.

The world blurred at the edges, her heart tightening, suffocating her in its grasp.

"Hh... ngh... ah...."

It hurt.

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It hurt so much.

If she didn’t strike her own chest with her fist, she felt like she would break apart.

And then—

At some point, a voice spoke.

A voice that was always unfamiliar each time she heard it.

At the same °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° moment, her small fist—

the one she had been using to hurt herself—

was gently caught in someone else’s grasp.

"Why do you torment yourself so?"

A calm voice, as always.

And then, silence.

A hesitation as he took in her tear-stained eyes.

At the weight of his silence, Baeksulhwa’s lips trembled.

And at last, she spoke.

"...Mister.

Mister, do you... want me... to live?"

She was grasping at straws.

Even from this strange man whose name she didn’t know, whose identity was a mystery—

She just wanted someone to tell her she should live.

Yet, deep down, she already understood.

That mere words of comfort wouldn’t change anything.

That whether she heard an answer or not, nothing would truly improve.

And yet—

"...Live."

"Live, and see the flowers bloom in spring."

The man who had been watching her intently spoke.

For the first time in her life,

Baeksulhwa felt what it meant to be comforted.

"In summer, watch the sunlight blaze fiercely in the sky."

"In autumn, watch the leaves scatter in the wind."

"And in winter... in winter, watch the snow fall from the heavens."

A dull, breaking sound rumbled from the depths of her heart.

And then—

The emotions she had suppressed for so long began to well up.

Overflowing.

"You are my only lingering regret."

She still didn’t understand what Baek Jin meant.

But he wanted her to live.

For that single reason alone.

—Plop.

—Plop.

—...Drip.

"Ah... ah... ngh... nghhh...!"

Tears welled up, spilling over.

Instead of swallowing them back,

she buried her face against the man’s chest and sobbed.

For the first time, she cried like the child she truly was.

Her emotions surged beyond control.

Ugly.

Warped, twisted sobs tore from her throat, sounding more like screams than crying.

And then—

"White ‘Baek’... and ‘Jin,’ to move forward."

At last, she heard it.

For the first time.

"That... is my name."

A name of only two syllables.

A name that had not been called for centuries.

A name that had faded into oblivion, lost to time.

But just as in the distant past—

A name meant for a girl who had struggled alone all her life,

to give her something—someone—to lean on.

"Call it aloud. So that I may hear it."

"So that I may always find you, whenever you need me."

A voice both steady and desperate.

Begging her to know—

That she was not alone.

That someone stood before her, for her.

"I will not let your story—your ‘Sulhwa’—be left to tragedy and sorrow.

Not this time.

No matter what."

A promise.

One made with greater weight than any before.

Because this time, he would keep it.

Because last time—he couldn't.

"...Cut."