Chapter 55: Craving Acceptance
“And… send.”
Click.
A man with a face devoid of life stared at his monitor as a link appeared. It was the download link to an AI voice-changing software he himself had developed.
The man was a hobbyist programmer with barely a social life off the internet; his everyday life was colored in a deep shade of gray.
Did he have a job?
Yes, but if you asked him, he’d say, “No.”
While freelance work is officially recognized as a job by the government, some people argue against viewing it that way due to its infrequent and rootless nature. And it’s hard to fault them for seeing it that way.
People often say freelancers get to choose when they work, but in reality, it’s always a coin flip whether you actually manage to land the opportunities you chase—or the few that come to you. For that reason, the man considered himself a “self-employed NEET,” contradictory as that sounded.
Through his work, he had managed to make acquaintances with some repeat employers, but…
“So damn stiff… I really hate talking to these guys.”
The man hated talking to them. They always oozed chronic “business-face-only” syndrome, and it felt like his eyes were melting from the sheer amount of corporate speak they used in their messages.
“... I’ll look at the emails later. I wanna do something fun tonight instead.”
His eyes floated to a familiar name hovering at the corner of his screen. It was among a short list of friends he had online.
UTOPICWorldBuilder
The man he knew as YVELL. A person he had been friends with for years.
“What could he, of all people, plan to do with my vibe-coded voice-changing software? He’s the last person I’d think would use that.”
Originally introduced to Yvell through Corv, his first impression of him was that he was a depressing person to be around. He had once been quiet and serious, but over the years, his personality had shifted remarkably.
“He said it was going to use it for a project, but I don’t buy it.”
Yvell was more of a NEET than he ever was, only rarely picking up odd jobs to keep himself afloat. Always said something about never feeling right staying in a workplace for long, but the man always felt there was more of a reason to it.
What could a jobless bum like Yvell use a voice-changer for? Uploading honeytrap videos around VR Party?
Whatever the case, it didn’t feel like something he’d use on a whim. He was already a little hung up on his scrawny build, and there’s no way he’d resort to something like that unless he really had no choice.
Unless… maybe he was having his own femboy awakening episode.
“Nah, there’s no way.”
The man hoped that wasn’t the case.
Though the expressionless man hoped this wasn’t the case, he wasn’t exactly one to shy away from similar situations. After all, he was the developer of that AI voice-changing software, and he made sure to abuse it as much as possible during his VTubing livestreams.
However, the man always made sure to separate his streaming persona from reality. Even with his social ineptitude, he understood the importance of keeping the act from overtaking the person he truly was.
One might wonder how someone like him ended up with such a hobby. One of his friends had certainly been tempted to ask this same question.
Ding.
9A-Corvet:
Planning to stream tonight?
“How the fuck does he always know? I don’t even have a regular stream schedule.”
The man muttered a curse under his breath. Corv always had an uncanny knack for reading people—even those he’d never met in person.
All it would take was a few days for him to get a clear sense of their personality. After that, he’d use his surprisingly high social IQ to get along with the person of interest.
To the man staring at the monitor, it was just as mysterious why Corv even associated with their little band of online losers—stranger still, since he was the one who had brought them all together.
Was this just Corv’s way of creating a circle with himself at the top? Some strange social game, orchestrated on a whim by this wealthy man?
“No… Absolutely not.”
Unless the seemingly sincere personality he showed was just an act all this time, that can’t be the case. But there are no certainties in life, much less online. Everyone has a different face offline, after all.
This man… Kenja450 knew that best.
So what was 9A-Corvet’s deal? Why would someone who seemed so different from everyone else in this online group of misfits even associate with them?
Kenja figured he might figure it out sooner if he just talked to him enough.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Kenja450:
coming to watch?
9A-Corvet:
Nah Im not gayge enough to watch my friend larp a cutesy magical girl VTuber online.
Kenja450:
yea you are. its not a bad concept tho right?
9A-Corvet:
Sure, but do you really want that?
“...”
Kenja wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that question.
Despite his Chaos username, he never thought deeply about the things he did. Everything he did was always done on a thoughtless impulse.
His VTubing gig was much the same.
But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a reason why he chose to do what he did. He knew there was one, deep inside, but introspection was always a frightening thing to Kenja. Because it uncovered secrets about himself that even he didn’t know.
Sigh.
Kenja decided to avoid the topic.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Kenja450:
youve been dming me more often. not hanging with yvell these days? you two used to stick together all the time whenever ur online
9A-Corvet:
Yeah… I dont know, he’s always busy nowadays. Right now, he and Ori are on a camping trip.
Kenja450:
what? really?
9A-Corvet:
They sent me a picture of them eating cooked fish together. Though the fish looked really weird. They’re getting along better these days.
Kenja450:
did that dense idiot finally make a move? normie reformation?
9A-Corvet:
Haha, trust me when I say he’s not dense. Things are just complicated.
“Hm…”
If Corv said so, it must certainly be true. He’s known Yvell for far longer than anyone else in the group, and he wouldn’t have any reason to lie.
If the story is a little more complicated than Yvell just missing the signs, then there must be a problem with Yvell himself. Perhaps, something that made him scared of accepting Ori in that light.
Human emotions and the mind are an enigma. Society places a heavy emphasis—sometimes an outright pressure—on the idea of accepting one another, a concern most people can relate to in some form.
It was a concern Kenja himself had carried for as long as he could remember: the need to be accepted and acknowledged. Not for the sake of identity or purpose, but simply to belong.
He had spent most of his life living in the shadow of a brilliant sibling who outshone him in every conceivable way, and anyone familiar with constant comparison knew what that meant—being overshadowed often meant being overlooked, if not forgotten altogether.
“Ugh…”
Click. Clack.
Kenja450:
i dont feel like streaming tonight anymore.
9A-Corvet:
Bro, whaaat? Come on, I was planning to join you on queue for the night. Show your viewers a little something or two about sniper gameplay.
Kenja450:
on ranked UR? youll just get 0/5/0’d if we reach a higher rank. i dont feel good about going duos on grinds either.
9A-Corvet:
My name’s not Zorv, theres no way I’d 0/5. But if you want to go three stack instead we could wait for Yvell to come back.
“Did he look into my DMs with Yvell or something? That’s two times now that he read me without ever trying.”
Kenja took a moment to scratch his head in confusion before responding.
Kenja450:
lets do that when he comes back. lets queue up casual for now?
9A-Corvet:
I thought you werent going to stream anymore?
Kenja450:
I wont, just gonna play.
9A-Corvet:
Alright then.
Corv was always an unusual person to be around—agreeable by nature, and rarely one to cause friction. Perhaps because he was more socially adept, he always made great strides to come to know the other side.
This was something Kenja appreciated about Corv, since he couldn’t find himself willing to open up to others on his own.
Human nature can be contradictory. Kenja hated introspection—he disliked trying to understand himself—yet he enjoyed it when others came to understand him.
It made him feel acknowledged and respected—a validation he quietly craved. Even beneath his withdrawn nature, the desire to belong to society remained strong.
Ding.
9A-Corvet:
Can I ask something?
Kenja450:
no need for permission, shoot
9A-Corvet:
Why do you livestream? Whats so fun about streaming as a VTuber?
“What’s so fun…? Hm…”
Though he disliked examining his own thoughts, when prompted by someone else, he naturally began to dissect himself to entertain their questions—another small contradiction of human nature. Was this hypocrisy, or simply a nuance to Kenja that had gone unexamined?
Kenja himself didn’t seem to notice this as he dove deep into his own thoughts.
“... It’s an ego thing in the end. Cringe.”
Kenja realized that he just wanted other people’s attention. Attention he rarely ever got growing up, as the “second place contender” to his own gifted brother.
Streaming was his avenue to entertain such a simple-minded desire.
Kenja knew he had the personality of a soggy wet biscuit. He wouldn’t make for a very appealing streamer.
That’s why he vibe-coded an AI voice changer into existence. And that’s why he started VTubing as a cutesy magical girl—building the entire 3D model from scratch with nothing but blood, sweat, and unholy amounts of gooner energy.
Eye candy that matched a nice voice at the very least made his streams a little more bearable. This realization made him feel a little sick, knowing how pathetic he was.
Others sought validation through social media, finding their share of attention there. However, his own pages were about as barren as a desert, not because he lacked anything to say, but because he was never the type to talk so openly about his day.
So instead, he turned to streaming, using online anonymity to both nurture and shield his fragile ego. VTubing offered an extra layer of insulation—protecting him from being hurt, by others and by himself.
After all, his streaming persona might as well have been a different person entirely. Any criticism wasn’t aimed at him, but at a fictional character. And since it was all an act to begin with, what did it matter if he slipped up while playing a role?
He longed desperately to be accepted by others, but acceptance didn’t come easily—it demanded change. Change that he wasn’t so willing to make. As a workaround, he donned a new mask: a face people would find more appealing than his own.
“I wish I were a little less sober right now…”
Kenja couldn’t just answer frankly, so he decided he might as well add some humor to his response.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Kenja450:
ego. the attention feels gooood, lmao
9A-Corvet:
Lol what the heck.
Kenja450:
lfg. im in the lobby already.
Kenja decided not to entertain any more questions and pushed the topic aside, insisting they start playing. That night, the two dove into Unravel Rivals, witnessing a bizarre hack: a tiny shark zoomed around across the sky before swallowing everyone in the game whole with its ultimate skill.
It was late into the night.
“Brooooooooooooooooo!”
Boing. Boing.
A tanned, somewhat muscular guy in loose, pricey clothes dove onto his king-sized bed and flopped around like a fish. A scantily clad woman by the dresser watched him with a look that clearly said, really?
“Do you have to be so loud every time you lose one of those… games?”
“Can you blame me? Who would’ve expected a hacking sweat in a casual game?! And I was about to score a second team wipe, too!”
“I don’t understand why you men are always so obsessed with video games.”
“Women play video games too, you know. Ori is one such example.”
“Exceptions to the rule.”
“Ever the close-minded woman, aren’t you?”
Sigh.
The man buried his face in his forearm, exhausted. He’d held his own against a hacker with his online friend—until they pulled flying hacks and harassed their team’s back line.
Hope for success was always just a hair’s breadth away—a lesson he’d learned early and carried into adulthood. Even in video games meant for casual play, that truth still held.
The scantily clad woman, clearly bored with the conversation, decided to switch topics—one she’d been pestering him about for a while. The man, as if expecting it, rolled onto his side, turning away from her.
“Say, how about we get together again?”
“I told you, I’m not interested in that kind of business relationship.”
“But you clearly don’t mind it when we get physical? So, why not make it official again for the public eye?”
The woman’s slim fingers glided down the man’s exposed back. He squirmed slightly, shot her a sideways glance, and gave her a firm warning.
“Knock it off.”
“You’re a boring man, you know that?”
The woman huffed in annoyance before joining him by his side on the bed, sitting on the edge. She grabbed a phone from the bedside drawer and began scrolling through social media.
“It’ll only be for a little while. What’s the problem? Don’t you think it would look good publicly if we got back together and I started promoting your family’s products?”
“Not interested. Business relationships are boring.”
“You really know how to break a woman’s heart, you know that?”
“Was there ever a heart there to break to begin with?”
“Wow. Asshole.”
The woman stood up, straightening her hair before glancing at the man. He remained turned away, facing the other side.
“Want a drink before bed?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
The woman walked toward the door, leaving the man alone in the bedroom. Once alone, he stretched out on the bed, staring up at the expensively decorated ceiling.
“Is this why they always say ‘bros before hoes’? I just can’t deal with all that fake, superficial stuff.”
“This forest is as strange-looking as always.”
“Do not get too distracted. We will need to encircle them to get as many of them as possible.”
“That is right. Today is the day we finally get rid of those gnomes.”
