I May Be a Virtual Youtuber, but I Still Go to Work-Chapter 116

I’m not completely fearless.

This is actually pretty specific.

The only things I’m afraid of are those that can harm me, but that I can’t immediately take down.

It’s the same reason why I wasn’t bothered when Dora, playing Pandemic Village, hugged me—like I’ve mentioned before, it’s because I know that if I just kill the boss in this way or that, it’ll be fine.

But what if it’s not a horror game with shooting action like Pandemic Village?

If, for example, I’m not even given a club, then I really don’t want to play that game.

To put it more concretely, I could easily sweep a centipede the size of my forearm away with a broom if it suddenly popped out at home, but a cockroach that just flashes its figure and then disappears? That scares me.

... And so, this zombie apocalypse escape attraction that I’m doing with the second-year students doesn’t sit well with me.

You can tell why by listening to the guide.

Apparently, they’ve introduced some new technology since the renewal this year.

“Please make sure to wear the AR goggles until you fall asleep. If you take them off, you won’t be disqualified, but if you carry out the mission while not wearing them, you’ll be faced with a humble dinner and a tent and sleeping bag.”

I had thought it would be something like a timed puzzle run through various trap devices in a huge set.

But starting this year, it’s turned into an AR attraction that feels a lot like a hyper-realistic VR game.

So how does it work?

Once you put on the AR goggles, they take our location and sounds in real-time and send them to zombies roaming in the virtual world for us to shoot.

The zombies’ movements are rendered with high-performance computers that incorporate the real-world lighting and environment and then sent to us as video.

The video we see is of such high quality that aside from minor delay down to the decimal point, it’s almost indistinguishable from reality.

When they showed a sample of how the video comes out, the three second-year students and I tested it out.

“Eek!”

“Ahhh!!”

“Ugh. Ughh.”

Because of a zombie that suddenly popped up between the three of us, all three of us nearly fell on our butts as if we’d rehearsed it.

It’s definitely fun for outsiders to watch someone wearing VR or AR goggles.

... The problem is, I have to wear them too.

Since it’s virtual, nothing physically dangerous can happen, but the sense of fear? It’s beyond anything.

I’ll let the reactions of the three second-year students explain it for me.

“You... you’re too... real...”

“Hah... ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) If I only had a gun, I’d smack it with the buttstock.”

“This is really hard. Hmm. I’m so freaked out...”

You know, even in VR games where the 3D modeling quality isn’t that great, people who try it out usually end up freaking out, right?

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on novelbuddy.cσ๓.

But maybe because it’s AR...

The background is pure reality, and then suddenly, a zombie rendered so realistically jumps out, and it messes with your head even more.

It’s like a haunted house, but all the staff are replaced by the latest technology.

I know it’s fake in my head, but my eyes get tricked, and my heart reflexively skips a beat in surprise.

I’ve been thinking this for a while, but the owners of this pension...

They said they started the pension business as a hobby, but their spending habits seem anything but casual.

For example, the goggles we wear, which probably cost hundreds of thousands of won,

If people start running around or damaging them, it’s going to be a huge loss, right?

And there’s no poisonous clause either.

There’s no compensation responsibility for participants.

When I asked what’s left for them, the guide spoke with a mindset kind of like the one behind Dogecoin pushing rocket guys in the U.S.

“My husband’s already happily thinking about what to try next year. The equipment does break sometimes, but the data we accumulate from customers playing really helps in creating better content.”

I thought about backing out to avoid breaking such expensive equipment, but that route was also blocked.

Now, I have no choice but to head off into the zombie apocalypse with the second-year students.

I really want to tie my own tongue for signing up for this training five days ago.

As I was lost in thought with my eyes closed, Ena brought over the AR equipment and military jumper from my locker and handed them to me.

“It’s going to be so much fun. It’s a bit scary, but... I’m excited since we’re all doing it together. Does that sound weird? What do you think, Jia?”

Even though we’re going through the same debut preparation training, I still don’t want to show weakness in front of the other members.

That’s because the first-year students, whenever there’s a problem, always contact me first, believing I can handle it somehow.

I’ve shown that side of me multiple times before debut, and after debut, I became the mad movie solving broadcast accident issues.

And because of this, we were able to raise the first-year students up without any major problems.

In our kind of corporate system, if virtual YouTubers can’t speak up or just stew in silence, it often comes back to bite them later on.

Maybe that’s why Serena’s sudden graduation not long ago was such a big deal for Lapitz.

To summarize, I want to be someone reliable.

At least, to the members.

I straightened my expression and shrugged my shoulders.

“There’s no way I’d be scared of something like this.”

***

“Yaaah! Kyaaa—Ugh!”

“You can't scream! Didn’t I tell you that more zombies will show up if you do?!”

Dammit.

This is terrifying.

If Miho hadn’t screamed first, I would’ve been the one making a fool of myself, screaming in terror. I barely managed to hold it in.

We crossed what looked like a training ground or sports field, and only when we reached the opposite end of the warehouse where the zombies had popped out did Ena mutter in a trembling voice.

“Ha. That really scared me... ha...”

We had five missions to complete, and maybe it was because of the hellish difficulty, but every time we moved or tried to complete a mission, zombies kept popping up in swarms.

If even one person got bitten, we’d have to go back to the checkpoint (either the mission-clearing point or the place where a new mission starts). Already, we had reset three times during the second mission alone.

At least the zombies don’t stray too far from their spawn points, so that’s a small blessing.

But still, every time one pops out of nowhere, it’s just as shocking.

Ena muttered in a troubled voice.

“I think mission number 1 was just a taste...”

“I think so too.”

Thanks to Miho’s sharp detective skills, we easily cleared the first mission. Despite the fear, everyone was feeling confident that it was manageable.

The second mission was also quickly figured out thanks to Miho’s brilliant deduction, and we were all happy about that... until things went wrong.

The second mission was a search for a vaccine bag randomly placed somewhere inside a pitch-black burned-out warehouse. There was a time limit, and the warehouse was divided into four sections, which naturally meant the four of us would split up.

But, to make things more interesting, as soon as we started looking for the bag, zombies began popping up randomly from holes in the warehouse walls.

Zombies react to sound, so if we kept our mouths shut, we could avoid them to an extent. But unlike when we were all together, Miho became a siren signaling her position the moment she got separated.

Hiiieeek! Hiiieeek!

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

I was grateful that Miho always started the scream before me, but her scream always drew all the zombies to her, causing us to get surrounded and die every time.

So, we started at 3 PM, and now it’s already 4 PM.

If we want to have dinner before 5 PM, we need to finish the fourth mission on time.

A meager dinner is already dancing before my eyes. Maybe something like triangle kimbap and banana milk would be fine...

While running away from zombies in the warehouse, Miho, who had been covering her mouth, let go and complained.

“Why do you scream like that when you’ve already figured out what we need to do?!”

She wiped off the saliva from her face with the pants she was wearing, showing that even in this dire situation, she was still composed enough not to use the military jumper provided by the pension as a towel.

Despite her serious demeanor, her relationships with others had softened. She didn’t speak much, but Miho had started to talk to the other members (except me) quite a bit.

Realizing she had messed up again, Miho clasped both hands over her mouth and mumbled.

“Mmm... Hheeheh... Hoohoo...”

Just like when we had to interpret Bazubi’s extremely faint mutterings, the job of translating naturally fell to Ena.

“She says she’s good at deductions but hates the fear,” Ena explained.

“That’s something to brag about, really!!”

While I was snickering, Ena whispered in my ear while watching the two continue to bicker.

“Are you okay, Jia? I saw you clutching my jumper every time something scary popped up earlier...”

I was trying my hardest to hold it together, but did she notice?

Looks like I’m now on Ena’s “people to take care of” list. Well, I kind of brought it upon myself by joking around first.

But, you know, lying comes naturally to people who are shameless.

With a face of steel, I shook my head.

Ena smiled and didn’t say anything more. Despite knowing one of my weaknesses, she quietly let it pass.

Meanwhile, Orca, who failed to make peace with Miho, muttered.

“By the way... what should we do? It seems impossible for Miho to stop screaming.”

Honestly, I already knew what to do.

We didn’t have to split into four directions. We could just pair up in twos and cover more ground.

Miho doesn’t scream if she’s with someone. The time limit was an issue when we didn’t know the layout of the paths inside, but now that we’ve each gone in and out a few times, we’ve got a pretty good idea of where the bags are, so even if we split up in pairs, we’ll have plenty of time.

However, it’s better if the members figure out these things on their own, rather than me telling them. It’ll help them bond and get closer.

After all, the reason we’re doing this silly, or rather, fun, escape room attraction is to build teamwork, right?

On the other hand, I kind of wanted to help them out and get the hell out of this hellish place as soon as possible. I’m already mentally drained, and if I lose my warm meal and bed too, I’ll be pretty miserable.

I never expected this attraction to be so scary. I thought it would be more like climbing walls, crossing narrow bridges, and doing physical team-building activities.

Normally, I’d be at home lying in bed, watching the kids' broadcasts, not stuck here suffering.

Well, I do get to watch the second-year kids' live streams, but with me being a part of it, there’s this weird sense of cognitive dissonance.

But still...

"You can’t just jump in and help them out, you know. This is a test, after all," the boss had told me on Monday.

"I’m not helping them. I’ll just prank them more if anything," I had responded.

Since I’d already answered that I wouldn’t just help them, I couldn’t just go in and do it. If I did, the others would start relying on me, and that wasn’t the point. The main goal now was for the members to bond with each other.

So, this is the choice I’ll make—keeping my meal and warm bed, while also improving the relationships between the team and maintaining my position in the hierarchy.

"Let’s not split into four directions, but into pairs. We already know the conveyor locations, so let’s stick to one bag. If it’s not the right one, we’ll move on to the next one. We should have enough time."

And as I finished speaking, I casually brought up Ena’s name.

“Miho also won’t scream if she’s in a pair, Ena told me.”

Having discovered a secret—that I was afraid of this type of horror—I asked Ena to let this slide as well.

Above all, Ena had an exceptional ability to observe people. So, even if it was Ena’s opinion rather than mine, it still made sense.

Ena glanced at me with a sharp gaze, but she still agreed without hesitation.

She immediately approached Orca and Miho to discuss this method. Before long, Orca’s face lit up, and he crossed his arms with Miho.

“Let’s give it a try.” “Yeah... if it’s like this...”

Natural physical contact. It was a clear sign that the members' closeness had grown even more. Up until now, Orca had always looked after Miho, but unlike Ena, he never physically touched her.

Whether it was thanks to that or not, we managed to clear the second mission on the next try.

When we escaped the storage room, Miho was practically biting Orca’s hand, but at least she didn’t scream. Orca, bitten by Miho rather than a zombie, didn’t make a sound and endured the pain well.

As we moved toward the third mission area, Ena walked beside me. I was prepared for her to bring up why I was trying to take credit for things, but to my surprise...

“If you come up with a solution again, just let me know right away.”

Ena was completely okay with it.

As expected, Ena was starting to take on a role similar to mine among the second-year students. She was definitely finding her place.

It was a bit like how I imagined the chemistry between the three people and the boss would look—it was slowly becoming clear.

If the three of us did a collab, it would surely be fun.

Miho would cause some trouble (?), cry out for help, Orca would calmly respond while making painful noises, and Ena would walk between the two of them, almost like she was ready to fight but eventually making everything fun again.

I also looked forward to seeing Ena explode once in a while, with Miho and Orca trying to calm her down as they noticed her temper. I imagined Miho and Ena teasing Orca, trying to break his serious demeanor. And perhaps Orca would plan some content to test when Ena’s “angel mask” would finally crack—hoping for revenge.

This combination... already looks great.

I even thought it’d be fun to see them all play Battle Call together, maybe even give them some 3:1 hell training if they wanted.

As I continued on with these happy thoughts, Ena spoke up.

“Gia, your expression looks a little mischievous.”

“Cough.”

“What are you thinking right now?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just thinking it looks nice.”

“Pervert.”

“Well, it's all for you guys.”

Ena chuckled and smiled.

“By the way, when are you going to drop the ‘-nim’? Orca, Miho, and I are already on first-name terms, but you’re still using ‘-nim,’ keeping your distance.”

As she said, the speed at which I was getting closer to the members was different from theirs. I tended to see them as superior beings, so I kept trying to maintain a little distance.

But if I kept acting like this, the members I should be getting close to might hold back even more.

I could freely talk to Ena, but Miho and Orca were still careful around me.

I was just preparing for the debut, but looking back, it seemed like I was intruding on a time when the three of them should’ve been having fun together. I didn’t want to interfere with them too much.

What mattered most was that the psychological distance with Ena had already lessened significantly.

Every time I got startled and grabbed my jumper, it felt like I was breaking down that wall between us little by little.

“Well then, from now on, I’ll just call you Ena.”

***

When Magia, who had insisted on not debuting, said, “Should I just debut anyway?” Ena didn’t believe her.

The Magia she knew was always someone who could joke around, and she had heard from Maru that Magia never made exceptions, even for the members.

“Well then, from now on, I’ll just call you Ena.”

“Really?”

“It’s not a big deal, is it? So, what about you, Ena?”

But using informal speech was a whole different matter.

Ena was a bit close to Gia, but Maru had even said that it took over a year before Magia started using informal speech with her. So it seemed a bit strange that informal speech was coming out so soon.

Could she be seriously thinking about debuting, or was this just a joke? Ena’s curiosity was piqued, and she decided to throw out a somewhat daring question as a test.

“If I call you ‘unnie,’ it’ll mess up the family tree with Maru, so calling you by your name should be fine, right? We’re only a year apart.”

Magia didn’t hesitate for a moment in answering.

“Yeah. Sure.”