Genius Archer's Streaming Season 1 Episode 1
1. I Still Want to Shoot (1)
‘What if I just shot it.’
Current time: 3:00 PM. It’s a thought I always have around this time.
“So you can't even get this one thing right?! Huh? Hah...”
The protruding belly of that bald department head, currently spitting saliva as he yells in front of me.
“Hey! Are you even listening? Does it make sense to prepare this kind of crap as meeting data...”
The department head's precious junk hidden beneath that belly.
‘I could probably hit it even from 500 meters away.’
Yoo Sang-hyun was estimating just how far away he could shoot from and still hit his mark.
“Hey!!!”
Along with the department head's holler, a stack of documents came flying.
Swish.
Sang-hyun tilted his head slightly; the papers grazed past his ear and landed perfectly in the trash can behind him.
“You little shit! I'm talking to you and you're spacing out?!”
Only then did Sang-hyun snap out of it and immediately bow his head.
“I apologize.”
His two hands gathered politely in front of him.
The right one was trembling noticeably.
The department head's gaze lingered on that hand.
“Haa... Where did they dig up this retard... Slow hands, slow brain...”
The trembling stopped for a brief moment at the word 'retard', but the department head didn't notice.
“Just get out! You piece of shit!”
The department head finally spun his chair back toward his computer, gesturing for him to leave.
“I'll be going now.”
As if he hadn't just been chewed out, Sang-hyun gave a casual nod and left the office.
“Phew. Survived another day.”
The moment he stepped out, his expression turned impeccably bright.
The so-called mental fortitude.
An essential disposition required of an archery athlete.
“Hey. You get ripped a new one again today?”
A coworker sidled up to him and asked.
“Well, obviously.”
“Haa... You really... Suffering away in a corporate job that was never meant for you.”
“What can I do? If I got dropped in by parachute, I have to work like a dead slave.”
Parachute.
That was the nickname that always trailed Sang-hyun.
He had been unable to fully bloom his innate talent and was forced to leave the archery world due to injury. His coach, taking pity on him, had pulled strings with an acquaintance to get him this job. That was this company.
“Love the self-reflection.”
His coworker laughed, freshly surprised by Sang-hyun's candidness in calling himself a parachute hire.
“Well, you have to know your place.”
Sang-hyun answered casually, firmly massaging his throbbing right arm to loosen it up.
‘Know yourself before you know your enemy... Reminds me of the old days.’
The phrase "know your place" made Sang-hyun reminisce about his days as an athlete. It was something his coach always used to tell him.
Back when he was treated as a top prospect, those words never really resonated with him. But now that he was living a life where he did nothing but get cursed at, it pierced right through his chest.
“Hey, I'm heading out first. If I don't reorganize this report, I'll be working overtime.”
His momentary reverie ended abruptly. Sang-hyun snapped back to reality and rushed to his desk.
* * *
After work.
He stopped by a convenience store to buy four cans of beer, then headed home.
“Haa... Just barely dodged overtime.”
That was the thought that crossed his mind as he checked the clock upon returning home. 9:00 PM.
He nimbly sat down in front of his computer and pulled up a sports video.
‘And it just randomly popped into my head today, too.’
Pop.
He popped open the beer can as he watched the video. It was something he used to play whenever he felt down, but he hadn't watched it in a long time.
The day he clinched the championship at the National Archery Championships as the youngest winner ever.
It was a video recording of that historic day.
The athlete dressed in white in the video. He took a deep breath.
Soon, the bowstring was drawn, his breathing halted, and his eyes fiercely zeroed in on the target.
All those days of training and discipline existed solely for the Release of this single moment.
The taut bowstring was released.
Thwip.
Thud!
Bullseye.
—Waaaaah!!
—Another hit! Th-The lens is shattering!! The youngest ever, the youngest ever...
—The birth of a generational genius! Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing history...
Accompanying the commentators' excited voices, a close-up of Sang-hyun's younger face filled the screen.
“Tsk. Look at that handsome face.”
Gulp.
He let out a hollow exclamation of admiration and chugged his beer.
The interviews, the award ceremony, and the flurry of complicated congratulations passed by, and the video ended.
On the dark monitor, his face was faintly reflected.
“I've gotten old...”
Truthfully, at 28, he was still at a youthful age. It was probably just because the video from earlier showed him in his prime, so full of life.
“Let's just watch some game streams.”
Following his usual routine, he pulled up his favorite game streaming platform.
It wasn't that he watched it because he liked games. In fact, he had never even played one before.
Having only ever practiced archery since childhood, he never had the time to hang out with his peers and play games.
Playing sports costs a lot of money.
Living with his grandmother, Sang-hyun couldn't afford such expenses. He had no choice but to win scholarships.
Because of that, he never got to play a single game and practiced like crazy. As a result, he even achieved the feat of winning the championship at the youngest age.
Back then, he truly thought a smooth, paved road would stretch out before him.
“Of course, that wasn't the case.”
Gulp.
He chugged down the rest of his beer. Swallowing all the bitter memories down his throat, he refocused on the game stream.
On the screen, a stream for a popular 'Full Dive' virtual reality game was playing.
—Hey! Move! Why isn't this hitting!?
—Critical! Critical!! You cut it!
Full Dive virtual reality games were the ultimate indirect experience medium currently in existence, literally making players feel as if they had stepped entirely inside the game.
They were also commonly referred to as 'Capsule Games.'
That was because you needed a device called a Capsule to play them. Even with just the minimum specs, the price was exorbitantly high, making it an extreme luxury for a wage earner like Sang-hyun.
For him, simply being able to drink beer and watch such an amazing game was a blessing in itself.
[Badeudeuk Badeudeuk has donated 50,000 won]
[Aimi! Aimi, where did you go!]
A viewer lamented the streamer's aim skills while donating money. The donation program read it out in a comical voice.
—Aimiii! Aimiii! Where did you goooo?!
Similar donations continued to pour in after that.
[Jinseong Gumddakji has donated 4,000 won]
[5 minutes later: Alrigh~t, the game for today is!]
A donation predicting that he would turn off the game in five minutes and reboot it to try and edit the stream.
[Aimi has donated 30,000 won]
[Hey! I shot it, so why won't it die! What's wrong with this capsule!]
A donation predicting that the gamer would blame the response speed of a perfectly fine game capsule. Quite a hefty amount of donations continued to flow.
The chat window was flooded with 'kkkkk's.
However, Sang-hyun's face hardened stiffly.
“Seriously... being bad at something is a talent in its own way. Is it really that hard to hit? Looks easy to me.”
In the past.
It was a moment when the days he had thrown everything away just to be good at something seemed truly pathetic.
“Let's just get some sleep.”
Before he knew it, the time had flown by, and it was already time to prepare for work the next day.
A disciplined lifestyle.
It was one of the habits etched into his body during his days as an athlete.
Soon, the light in his room turned off, the curtains were drawn, and even the city lights outside the window were blocked out.
* * *
The next day.
As soon as he arrived at work that morning, he was called into the department head's office.
‘What's going on...? The atmosphere feels off.’
Being called into the department head's office was a familiar situation, but the way his coworkers were looking at him felt strange.
He had quite good eyesight.
He could read every minute expression on his coworkers' faces even from a distance.
‘This is a bit weird.’
The conclusion he reached was that everyone was acting a bit unusual today.
He found out the reason after stepping into the office.
Thud.
A resignation letter was placed in front of him.
“...There's going to be a restructuring.”
The department head continued speaking without even looking at his face.
“If you leave quietly now, we'll take care of you a bit. If you get pushed out through the restructuring, you won't even get that much.”
His voice and expression were so indifferent that it made Sang-hyun wonder if this conversation was even about him.
“You're the only one. In our team. You know that, right? Everyone else works hard.”
Now he was using the other coworkers as hostages.
‘I thought he was just picking on me a bit too hard yesterday...’
Truthfully, yesterday's report wasn't even that bad. Sang-hyun had enough sense to know that much. Yet, the department head had relentlessly found faults to drive him into a corner.
As a mere assistant manager, when the department head came at him, all he could do was apologize. That was the rule.
And now, following that rule, he had to step down from the front lines.
“...I understand.”
At his answer, which came out much easier than expected, the department head finally glanced at him.
“Really?”
“You're saying if I leave right now, you'll make sure I get a good severance package, right? You'll even throw in a little extra.”
“...You calculate fast.”
“I recorded it, so please keep your promise.”
It was a blatant lie, but the department head nodded. There were quite a few working professionals nowadays who constantly recorded conversations, especially when being called into an office like his.
“Well, alright. It's not just my promise; the company will guarantee it. So don't worry.”
“Do I have to leave starting today?”
“Would you even work if I told you to stay today?”
“...I'll pack my things.”
“Good grief.”
Sang-hyun turned around expressionlessly. The department head's voice rang out from behind.
“Hey, don't take it too hard. You were a parachute hire anyway. Huh? Everyone here struggled to graduate college, built up their resumes, studied English, and even spent every last penny to study abroad. We can't help it either.”
He knew.
The reason he was always getting scolded by the department head. The reason he had barely any friends among his coworkers. And the reason he was now on the verge of losing even this.
It was all because he was a high school graduate and a former athlete.
“I know.”
He slowly returned to his seat and packed his belongings into a box. It was a company he had worked at for four years, yet his belongings didn't even fill a small post office box.
* * *
“What do I do now?”
Sang-hyun, who had returned home.
He had walked out of the company coolly, but now that he was actually home, he felt like he was going insane.
28 years old. High school graduate. Unemployed. Former athlete. Special skill: Archery.
With such a worthless speck of dust for a resume, it seemed nearly impossible for him to survive as a salaryman in South Korea.
Even so, he couldn't bring himself to contact the coach he had already owed a favor to once.
“Sh-Should I buy some ramen at least? Maybe I should stock up on water, too...”
He began frantically listing off items in his head as if a war had broken out.
“Haa... Haa...”
He tried to collect himself and took a deep breath.
As if standing was too much effort, he sat down in his chair, before eventually collapsing onto his bed.
Thud.
“Haa...”
Throwing his body down as if exhausted, he stared blankly at the ceiling. The round fluorescent light on the ceiling.
It looked just like the target he always aimed for.
He blankly raised both hands, aiming at the center of that target. As if holding a bow, his breathing steadied, and his arms formed a perfect posture.
Th-th-th-th...
But his right hand visibly trembled. The longer he held the stance, the worse the trembling became.
“Ugh...”
Thud.
In the end, his hands dropped back onto the bed. Cold sweat was dripping down Sang-hyun's forehead.
About five minutes later.
He bolted up from the bed.
As if possessed by something, he walked over, sat down, and turned on his computer. He briefly considered grabbing another beer from the fridge but decided against it.
Logging into the game streaming platform he usually watched, he struggled to type out a search with trembling hands.
‘Skill-based streams’.
To see if being good at a game could actually make him money.