Chapter 122: Debut!
Date: 2025-03-12
Author: Xian Ge
The more Tang Yao thought about it, the more it made sense.
Virtual idols weren’t a thing here yet—an absolute novelty. As an otaku in her past life, she knew voice actors and characters were distinct. Some fans chased voice actors, but most casual anime fans didn’t care who was behind the role.
Leaning too hard on voice actors for promotion risked alienating players. It could even shatter their character immersion if the actor’s persona clashed with the role. Players might struggle to tie a real person to their beloved character, and over-relying on voice actors opened another can of worms: what if the actor got caught in a scandal? A dumb move could taint the character itself.
Virtual idols dodged all that.
So why stick with voice actors? Why not try a virtual idol?
No—not quite a virtual idol. Those were about building fandoms for profit. Tang Yao’s goal wasn’t that. She wanted a voice actor to don a character’s “skin” and play the game, hyping the new FGO version. The focus wasn’t profit but exposure for the character itself.
“Role-playing” fit better.
The perks were clear: sidestepping dependence on a voice actor’s personal brand, amplifying the character’s charm, and avoiding the disconnect between actor and role. A real person playing FGO in a promo video would split attention—part on the actor, part on the game. But a character’s skin? All eyes on the role.
Plus, virtual idol flops usually tied to the “middle person” behind the avatar. Tang Yao didn’t plan on live-streaming or full-on idol activities—just promo videos. The middle person would simply embody Rin Tohsaka, no personal flair or opinions, strictly sticking to the character’s persona.
Pure, orthodox virtual performance.
“It could work…” Tang Yao mused. “It’s way more engaging than a voice actor showing their face and playing ‘themselves.’ Virtual idols are fresh here. If we drop a video of a Fate character playing FGO on ANF’s homepage, paired with heavy promotion, the impact could be huge.”
The more she thought, the surer she felt. It beat having voice actors play the game themselves.
Her excitement dimmed quickly, though. A snag: Fate/stay night’s main characters, like Rin Tohsaka, had no voice actors to save costs—she’d recorded their interjections herself. Convenient, sure, but finding a suitable voice actor now was tough.
Time was tight. December was around the corner. Pulling this off meant crafting the character’s “skin,” scouting a voice actor, planning the workflow, writing scripts, and training the middle person. The Fate/stay night storyline in the game wasn’t even finished—any voice actor would need to study Rin Tohsaka deeply.
It sounded exhausting.
Worse, while critical for Avalon’s game hype, this gig might feel trivial to voice actors, big or small. No animation, no real plot—just playing a game in character, suppressing their own identity? Odd. Voice actors built careers by leveraging roles to boost their fame, transitioning to idols, singers, or actors. Roles were stepping stones. Asking them to erase themselves? Good luck.
Sure, enough money could solve anything. But if this approach took off, could she trust the voice actor to stay silent, even with a contract? No subtle hints?
If Rin Tohsaka breaking the fourth wall to play FGO shocked players—as Tang Yao expected—the allure of that fame might tempt a lesser-known actor. FGO needed this actor for future roles, like Ishtar. If they breached contract and became iconic as the middle person, swapping them out would be a headache. Keep them? Drop them? Both messy.
High penalty fees? Hints were hard to police, and would a small-time actor even sign with steep fines? A big-name actor? Fans would sniff them out fast.
A talented amateur, then? Tang Yao pictured the scouting process and winced. Finding the perfect fit was a pipe dream.
Maybe scrap it. Stick with voice actors filming videos. It was simpler, and their role in the promo was just a small piece—not even critical, more of a flourish.
“…” Tang Yao wavered, reluctant to let go.
This spur-of-the-moment idea felt superior. No voice actor matched FGO’s hottest characters in charisma. Players had never seen this: a game character breaking the fourth wall, vividly playing FGO in a video. In this world, that trumped a voice actor’s cameo.
Avalon’s skeletal animation was top-notch, too—the “skin” would stun players. Tang Yao didn’t want to ditch this.
Hmm… what if she did it?
A bold idea hit her.
“…It might actually work,” she murmured, sinking into thought, seriously considering it.
She’d be behind the character—no skin off her nose. Players wouldn’t care about her; they’d love Rin Tohsaka, not the middle person. Their praise wouldn’t faze her.
Since she’d recorded the interjections to save money, her voice would blend seamlessly, no jarring shift. Best of all, as the middle person, she’d stay completely invisible. No leaks, no hints—she’d never out herself.
The middle person would remain a mystery. Players would only see the character, immune to any collapse.
It felt perfect.
The only worry? Professionalism. She wasn’t a trained voice actor. Interjections were easy, but fully embodying a character’s dialogue? Tricky.
Whatever. She’d try it at home tonight and get Xun’s feedback.
Decision made, Tang Yao jotted her half-baked idea into a document.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter 123: Xun’s Little Thoughts
Date: 2025-03-12
Author: Xian Ge
The new FGO version’s promotion rolled forward steadily.
Tang Yao drafted a short video script and tweaked Rin Tohsaka’s in-game “skin” to test the effect. The results solidified her resolve to use it for promotion—it looked that good.
She kept it under wraps for now. It was just the visuals; if her voice acting flopped, it’d be for nothing. So, she tinkered alone, delegating promo material artwork to the team.
A busy day later, past 7 p.m., she headed home.
The commute was, as always, grueling. Staring out the window, Tang Yao decided she couldn’t delay renting a new place. The distance was brutal. She loved their cramped, cozy apartment—packed with memories of her and Xun, her emotional anchor since arriving in this world—but no amount of nostalgia could offset the slog.
After the Christmas update, she’d find a closer, bigger place.
Lost in thought, she gazed at the passing scenery, letting her mind wander to trivial things, emptying her head. Most commutes went like this.
Since founding Avalon Studio, work consumed her thoughts. On the road, she tried to shed that weight, returning home lighter.
Sometimes, she found it absurd. Her original goal was simple: earn enough to live comfortably and ease Xun’s worries. How’d it spiral into acquiring websites and scaling operations? She was already planning a second game.
Old habits died hard. She could slip on a bra in three seconds, tie a ponytail like a pro, and carry herself as Tang Yao with ease. But her core hadn’t changed—her love for “big sister” stockings, anime art, and her relentless drive to achieve.
After FGO’s launch, she could’ve stopped. Day-one revenue was enough for her and Xun to live happily. But she couldn’t help pushing further.
Not a bad thing, though. Building a mega-corp with this body? Kinda fun. She could shower Xun and Li Xue with shares and cash—though they’d probably just roll their eyes.
Imagining the scene, Tang Yao chuckled softly, glancing down at herself. Her chest caught her eye, and her face darkened.
Nope, this body was still wrong.
Was there a bug in her transmigration? She should’ve stopped developing ages ago, yet it felt like she was still growing. Ridiculous.
Mulling over nonsense, she made it home without incident.
At the door, her high-octane work mindset had been overtaken by random thoughts. She unlocked the door.
The warm, cramped living room greeted her. Xun sat on the sofa, legs pressed together, a stack of clothes on her lap—seemingly folding their underwear.
With a stunning face and figure, Xun was a top-tier high school beauty. In her winter uniform, she radiated youthful energy even from a distance. Yet, somehow, she gave off housewife vibes.
Adorable, though.
“…” On the other side, Xun heard the door, holding clothes, slowly looking up.
Tang Yao couldn’t resist. “Xun, can you put the clothes down before staring? It’s weird—like you’re sizing me up.”
“…” Xun didn’t lower them. Her gaze drifted downward.
“You got a problem with my chest?” Tang Yao shot her a playful glare, swapping to house slippers and plopping onto the sofa, snatching the clothes.
“Yours. Change later. And this…” Xun said, handing over the undergarments, then quipped, “You’re the one with the problem.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tang Yao grabbed the clothes, glaring again. “Who bit me first? I shared the day-one revenue news out of kindness. You were overjoyed, fine. Crying, fine. Hugging me, fine. But biting? Really?”
She was referencing the day after FGO’s revenue drop, when she’d shared the news with Xun.
Xun eyed her sister. “So that’s why you got revenge while I was sleeping?”
“…” Tang Yao’s face flushed, embarrassed. Not revenge, exactly—just a memory that sparked action.
Admit fault? Never. She was the big sister.
Chest out, she huffed, “So what if it was?”
“…” Xun knew what to do. She slid the clothes off her lap, lunged sideways at her sister.
“Hey—no, stop! Let go, it tickles—haha!” Tang Yao was tackled, squirming and laughing.
Xun, catching the faint scent of her sister, buried her face in her chest, smiling softly.
The sisters roughhoused for a while, ending breathless and spent.
Sprawled on the sofa, Tang Yao wrapped an arm around Xun’s slim waist. “Xun, keep this up, and I’ll start hating you.”
“Then I’ll hate you too,” Xun said, draped over her, unfazed.
“No dowry for you, then!” Tang Yao teased, ruffling Xun’s hair, savoring its soft texture.
“…” Xun froze, her body tensing, falling silent.
“Hm? What’s wrong?” Tang Yao, sensing the shift, asked curiously.
“Nothing,” Xun said, sitting up, brushing hair from her temples, lips pursed as she looked at her sister.
Tang Yao propped herself up, fixing her ponytail, tilting her head. What was that?
Since FGO’s success, Tang Yao wasn’t the only one unburdened. Xun had shed her worries too—Tang Yao could tell. Lately, Xun let her playful, girlish side show, like just now. Months ago, she’d never have tackled her, not wanting to stress her sister.
Tang Yao loved this change. She’d bet everything for moments like these. She was happy to indulge Xun’s antics—youth was for fun, not stern faces.
But this sudden mood swing? Tang Yao was stumped.
Xun didn’t explain, just watched her sister. Tang Yao’s dowry jab had sparked a thought: marriage.
Her sister was gorgeous, kind, capable, and charming. Who wouldn’t fall for her? Would she marry someday?
(End of Chapter)
Translation Notes
Names:
Transliterated using Pinyin for consistency: Tang Yao (唐瑶), Xun (薰, Tang Xun for clarity), Rin Tohsaka (远坂凛). These retain Mandarin phonetics for accessibility.
Fate terms (Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night, Chaldea, Ishtar) use established English equivalents for fan clarity.
“Avalon Studio” (理想乡) and “ANF” (AnimationFan) are kept as proper nouns, reflecting their narrative roles.
Cultural Nuances:
Anime Culture: The virtual idol concept and voice actor dynamics reflect China’s anime and gaming fandom, translated with universal themes of fan attachment and marketing innovation.
Sibling Bond: Tang Yao and Xun’s playful, intimate dynamic captures Chinese familial warmth, rendered with relatable affection and humor.
Transmigration: Tang Yao’s reflections on her body and past life nod to transmigration tropes, translated with subtle self-awareness for accessibility.
Technical Terms:
Marketing Terminology: Terms like “虚拟偶像” (virtual idol), “中之人” (middle person), “第四面墙” (fourth wall), “角色滤镜” (character immersion), and “宣传视频” (promo video) align with anime and gaming promotion contexts.
Voice Acting Terms: “语气助词” (interjections), “配音” (voice acting), and “台本” (script) fit the voice acting industry’s nuances.
Game Terms: “骨骼动画” (skeletal animation) and “版本上线” (version launch) align with FGO’s technical context.
Adjustments:
Emotional Tone: Tang Yao’s creative spark, Xun’s vulnerability, and their playful banter are tuned for natural English flow, preserving emotional depth.
Strategic Clarity: Tang Yao’s virtual idol plan and its risks are streamlined to highlight her ingenuity and caution.
Dialogue Flow: The sisters’ teasing and Xun’s quiet reflection balance humor with a poignant shift, maintaining narrative momentum.
Character Dynamics:
Tang Yao’s Drive: Her blend of ambition and otaku passion shines, rendered with wit and warmth.
Xun’s Growth: Her shift from restraint to playfulness, then sudden unease, sets up emotional stakes, translated with tender nuance.
Creative Tension: Tang Yao’s debate over voice actors vs. virtual idols captures her problem-solving, translated with engaging introspection.
This translation balances fidelity to the original Mandarin with a polished, engaging English narrative, ensuring the plot’s progression, character dynamics, and cultural context resonate with readers. Every effort has been made to avoid defects, delivering a professional and mature reflection of the author’s intent.
Hi. I’m Designer of Blog Magic. I’m CEO/Founder of ThemeXpose. I’m Creative Art Director, Web Designer, UI/UX Designer, Interaction Designer, Industrial Designer, Web Developer, Business Enthusiast, StartUp Enthusiast, Speaker, Writer and Photographer. Inspired to make things looks better.
0 comments:
Posting Komentar