The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent-Chapter 418

To be completely honest, if I’d had a choice over what kind of body to have, I would’ve chosen the body of a handsome man.

Sure, I used to pick female characters in games a lot—but that wasn’t because I wanted to be a woman. I just didn’t want to stare at a male character on my screen the whole time.

The reason I’d have picked a handsome male body is simple.

I just wanted to be one of those guys that everyone likes. You know, like those viral “hot guy KakaoTalk screenshots” people post online. I wanted to experience that kind of life, too.

Of course, the body I actually ended up with wasn’t that of a handsome man, but rather, a pretty woman.

Not average-looking, either. I had a beautiful face, silky hair, and a figure that was undeniably top-tier.

And I’m not just bragging. I actually have some objective proof.

First: the “Zero Two” dance video I uploaded got slapped with a yellow tag before a day had even passed.

There were no copyright issues, so it could only mean it was flagged for being too sexual.

Even though I was fully dressed.

Well, I suppose it makes sense—this site is known for relying heavily on AI moderation, so let’s just say it was a false flag. Honestly, the video might not be super appropriate for little kids, but I think it’s fine for middle and high school students.

And it’s not like my body was that flexible or anything. If you break it down, it was just a chunk of flesh awkwardly wobbling around.

Then again, I probably would’ve liked it too, if I were the viewer.

The second reason I say this is because that flagged video is really popular.

Views for that video—and the ones posted before and after it—exploded. The results were undeniable.

...Maybe there’s some subconscious thing in people that I’m not aware of? Like even though I’m clothed, it somehow looks obscenely suggestive?

No, even to me it looked pretty lewd. Charlotte did cover Mia’s eyes, after all.

The vlog we uploaded last time had done pretty well too, and even that silly “Aaaagh Remix” that made me grind my teeth every time I saw it got decent numbers. But this time? This one was huge.

There were even comments that weren’t in Korean.

“Sylvia, you’re pretty popular, huh,” Alice said with a smirk.

“Looks like you’re meant to be playing on a global stage.”

“...Half of those English comments are sexual harassment.”

“...Well, that is a bit unfortunate,” she muttered, averting her gaze.

We looked unmistakably Western, but we spoke Korean on our stream, and we’d even confirmed our Korean nationality during past broadcasts. When I got my driver’s license, I’d uploaded proof of that too.

Although, public officials still looked a little surprised whenever we showed up at local government offices, most of our regular viewers had grown used to the idea that we were Korean, and they’d adapted to it.

For foreigners, though, I guess we still came across as... mysterious.

Probably like, “Beautiful women livestreaming in a language we don’t understand.”

And because of our development—and the fact that we’re treated as adults here—it was easy to forget that the others were, physically speaking, still teenagers.

Mid-teens, to be precise.

To Westerners, our faces must look pretty young. So when they hear we’re officially adults, it probably makes us even more intriguing.

There seem to be a lot of Koreans doing English content on overseas platforms these days, too.

It should be a good thing.

We needed to become more well-known if we wanted any chance of getting back to our world. So I should’ve been happy about it...

“Why am I not happy at all?”

I muttered bitterly, and Alice gave me a wry smile.

*

These days, we’d even started getting a surprising number of ad inquiries, though we turned down most of them. It’s not like we needed the money, so there was no reason to put ourselves through the stress of crafting content just to please sponsors.

We handled editing between the five of us, and managing the channel worked well enough with everyone pitching in.

It was basically a homemade production—zero labor costs, and we still made a decent profit. So we didn’t feel the need to sell ourselves out.

The only thing that really made me hesitate were the emails from broadcast networks.

We’d rejected them before, but still—if it wasn’t a long-term commitment or something too scripted, an interview or one-time appearance didn’t seem like a bad idea.

Let’s be honest—how many people don’t fantasize about being on TV when they’re young?

“If it’s just a one-off, I think it’ll be fine. But for that kind of program, they’d probably want to film inside the house.”

This is where opinions among us differed.

The other four didn’t really care much about the presence of figures.

Alice and Claire treated them like fancy hallway busts. Charlotte and Mia barely noticed them at all.

Maybe it was because of the stereotypical “Western” persona imagined by Japanese developers—Charlotte somehow embodied both the conservative values of the 20th century and the progressive attitudes of the 21st. She had conservative views around sexuality, but didn’t care at all about individual eccentricities.

Mia was the fastest to embrace subculture out of all of us, so she was in a different category altogether. Honestly, I figured she and Lena would get along well once we returned to our original world.

Anyway, it looked like I was the only one who actually cared whether the figurines appeared on stream.

...If the broadcast used clips from our channel, would the “Sylvia Hypnosis Edition” make it on air?

What if we ended up with headlines like “The Internet Broadcast That Went Too Far...”?

That was my genuine concern.

“Well, who cares?” Claire tilted her head and dismissed it instantly.

“It’s not like we’re trying to become politicians or something. If our viewers are happy, that’s all that matters, right?”

“......”

I didn’t really have a counterargument for that logic.

Was that how it ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) worked?

Just ignore everything around you, and it doesn’t matter anymore?

“Then... should we accept the broadcast offer?”

It was one of those long-running shows that featured bizarre real-life stories. They’d had all kinds of people—eccentrics, folks with disabilities looking for help, and so on.

Sure, a few of their episodes seemed a bit staged, but they probably just wanted us as we are, so it shouldn’t be a problem... probably.

Worst-case scenario, we could back out after a meeting.

“I’m fine with it,” Alice said first.

“Same,” said Claire.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try it. If broadcasting becomes a thing in our world, this might be the first format they use.”

“I’m fine too,” Mia added.

With that, I nodded and started drafting a reply to their email.

*

Of course, just because we agreed to meet the broadcast staff didn’t mean we’d let them into the house right away.

Not because we were all girls, or because there was anything too weird inside—it was just that letting outsiders into our home felt... uncomfortable.

When we arrived at the meeting place, we found two people waiting: one man, one woman. Both were show producers, and the woman seemed to be the senior of the two.

“We won’t do any heavy styling or anything. Unless you specifically want us to. Honestly, your current look is already great for TV,” the woman said.

The male producer nodded in agreement.

“Would you be okay with Korean food?”

At that, we all exchanged glances.

There were five of us and two of them, and honestly, the cafe they’d chosen—one with round tables—felt a bit too cozy. I guess this was a popular spot for college students?

“Uh... well, we are Korean, but...”

I was the first to speak.

Judging by their surprise when they heard me speak fluent Korean, they probably hadn’t watched our streams very carefully.

Or maybe not at all. Yeah, that was probably it.

“Oh, are you mixed, then?”

“I’ve been Korean since birth.”

With that, the air around the table froze instantly.

Mostly on the producers’ side.

Hah.

I know I shouldn’t find it funny... but honestly? It was a little funny.

No matter what they said next, it was all going to backfire. And yet, we didn’t really care.

Because technically, we were foreigners.

We were only Korean on paper. We’d only been living here for, what, barely three months?

“Oh, um, but your name...”

“I grew up without parents. So I don’t actually know why I was given this name.”

“......”

Creeaak.

Watching me put on a slightly sorrowful expression, the two producers stiffened up again.

The other four girls looked utterly confused. Should they play along with my act, or stay silent?

Either way, it didn’t matter. No one would ever guess we were acting. freēwēbnovel.com

Now this—this was real reality TV.