You made it. You're the CEO of a Fortune 50 corporation. Normal people have to work for a month to earn what your net worth increases by in a day. Power and money are your best friends. As you take a look across your office spanning an entire floor in this skyscraper, you feel like you've accomplished something. Yet there is also something missing. You have power and money; yet you ain't never got your dick wet.
Over time, your thought process off work increasingly turns into that of a hormonal teenager: You want someone. It's not about giving and taking, about fairness, about respect. It's just about completing the game of life. From a subordinate two middle managers away from you, you find out about this Hololive thing. It seems strange, nay alien, at first. Who except fat weeaboos would want to watch a bunch of people play pretend anime for fat weeaboos? You saw her. Kronii. Ouro Kronii. She clicks. Her laugh captivates you. Her humor stimulates you. Her outlook on life resonates with you. You're going to make her yours and there's no changing your mind.
A few calls later, you've been assured that she'll be brought here. No one asks for your reasons. You're the CEO of a Fortune 50 corporation after all. If you give the word, mountains move, one way or another. You pass the time with VODs. When is she going to be here? Your mind circles and circles and circles.

Finally, the phone rings, taking you out of your mental prison. You eagerly and hastily make your way to the ornate entrance of your tastefully decorated office. She arrives in a bag. She's been put to sleep, you're told. Carefully, you open the bag. She looks... weird. Not like what you expected. That's not what Kronii looks like on stream.
You call the cleaners and ditch the bag, never to be seen or heard of again. You make plans for another round of golf with Motoaki from IT.