Genius Archer’s Streaming - Chapter 1184

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Genius Archer’s Streaming Season 5 Episode 69
23. The Weight of Going to Work (1)
Hikikomori.
A term for reclusive shut-ins who cannot leave their rooms.
This phenomenon first emerged in Japan, and thus the Japanese word “hikikomori” became established as a proper noun expressing this condition.
Japanese and Koreans certainly have quite different temperaments.
Yet strangely, social phenomena tend to follow the same pattern.
While not as prevalent as when hikikomori was trending in Japan, the phenomenon of those who have dropped out of an excessively competitive society isolating themselves without self-acceptance has also occurred in Korea.
Often, when asking parents about their children’s circumstances after graduation, one can see them averting their gaze.
“Oh my. Jihu’s mother? It’s been so long!”
“Ah… Yuna’s mother.”
“Jihu is doing well, right? Come to think of it, has Jihu graduated from university yet?”
“Jihu is currently on a leave of absence.”
“Ah, is that so? Is it still because of military service?”
“…Yes.”
The reason these people cannot leave their rooms is, when you actually hear it, nothing particularly grand.
That’s what makes it worse.
When someone locks themselves away after experiencing a major incident, at least you know what the solution might be.
But if they naturally barricade themselves without any particular reason?
‘Why can’t I go out? Why?’
Even they become frustrated.
I couldn’t understand why going out had become frightening, or when this had started.
It’s not as if I foam at the mouth and collapse when meeting people, or burn like a vampire in sunlight.
Whenever I decide to go out, it feels like I’d actually manage it just fine.
Yet I cannot go out.
‘Damn it! Damn it!’
This inability to leave has now lasted three years.
Three years have passed without eating with family, without seeing their faces.
It’s not that I’m not hungry for human connection.
I’m lonely.
I clearly wanted to talk with people.
Yet I didn’t want to talk.
The only ones who became my friends despite such contradictions were the streamers.
[Hiii~]
[Hey?]
[Ah, nice to meet you… yes.]
Among them, the one I enjoyed watching most was.
[Chiki-cha!]
Almond’s broadcast.
“Chi… Chiki-cha!”
Without realizing it, I found myself chanting the slogan along with them.
“Ah, Almondil!”
Shamelessly addictive.
Yet strangely endearing.
When I came to my senses, I was already making videos.
[The Most Beautiful Woman in the Province Has Inexplicably Fallen for a Nut—Not Even Human?!]
It was a video with an absurdly long title like that.
A crude parody video depicting a non-existent love story between Almond and Jesse.
And it got good reactions.
Then—
[Hello. This is ‘Mixnuts,’ managing Streamer Almond’s career…]
One day, an email like that arrived.
Surprisingly, they said they’d pay me just for making videos, with no commute required.
‘Really?’
I knew such a world existed, but I never thought it would become my job.
‘My videos are trash.’
They were just videos I made on a whim and uploaded.
Since all the content was parodies, some of them couldn’t even generate revenue.
[…Macaron’s videos are getting good reactions from the public, so I’d like to work together…]
‘Of course I should!’
That’s how I became Almond’s editor.
This way, I wouldn’t run out of money and have to ask my parents for help, and I could order pizza whenever I wanted.
It was definitely a good thing.
But because of this job, I ended up staying in my room even more.
‘This… is way too much work!’
Still, it was enjoyable.
I had no intention of going out anyway, and having work to do—and being recognized for it—was quite nice.
‘I’m probably in the top 1% of hikikomori.’
I even developed this ridiculous sense of pride.
‘I earn my own money and don’t burden my parents. I even clean up trash.’
It was better to have some pride like that, at least.
The problem was that it didn’t last long.
As the nature of the work changed, cracks began to form in my perfect hermit world.
[…Mixnuts will now shift to office collaboration format to advance toward a bigger world…]
It was written in grandiose language that suspiciously reeked of a major corporation.
But for Macaron, it simplified to something very straightforward.
“C-c-commute to the office?”
Thud.
Macaron’s head hit the desk.
“Sigh…”
On that day, his world had essentially crumbled.

* * *
During the period Macaron went dark, he’d slipped back into his old routine.
He watched other streamers’ broadcasts without doing anything else, created meaningless videos only to delete them, and sighed.
He barely ate.
Though he’d rejected the work himself, the absence of it now made him feel like his existence had lost all purpose.
Beep beep beep~
Beep beep~
The CEO kept calling and messaging him.
He didn’t answer.
Rather, he couldn’t answer.
Macaron knew well enough what it meant to suddenly go silent without notice.
It was over now.
He’d never be able to work with Mixnuts again.
“Ugh….”
Macaron kept his eyes barely open and checked Juhyeok’s messages no matter what.
“Ugh!”
He shouldn’t have checked.
It was terrifying.
The cold aura of a major corporation emanated from them.
That guy just scares me!
It was right then.
Beep.
[Editor Seojia: Macaron. Did you watch Almond’s broadcast today? kkk]
A message came from Editor Seojia.
She’d never contacted him personally before.
‘She’s the only person I really talk to….’
Even in professional conversations, Seojia was the only person besides family he spoke with.
Because of that, Macaron was able to open his barely-open eyes a bit wider.
‘…broadcast?’
The tone wasn’t as harsh as Juhyeok’s messages.
She was talking about Almond’s broadcast.
As if delighted.
[Editor Seojia: Supo-jwa’s mission failed for the first time. The team is insane. Balloon Gum got matched with Bontovi. I’m not making this up!]
“…How is that even possible.”
At the mention of Balloon Gum being matched with Bontovi, Macaron immediately watched the replay.
Chuckle chuckle.
He just laughed and let time pass.
“This is seriously ridiculous.”
A hopeless team with even Almond dead—a truly hopeless situation.
“…Just like me.”
It felt exactly like Macaron himself.
A hopeless life.
That’s when it happened.
[Let me show you.]
Was Balloon Gum seriously saying something like this?
[That even trash… can do it.]
It was a sudden statement that denounced the entire team as trash.
But it sounded different to Macaron.
“…!”
His eyes widened for the first time.
From that moment on, he became intensely curious about what this team would become.
‘Can even trash… do it?’
His gaze turned toward the pile of trash accumulated in one corner of the room.
They kept saying they’d clean it up, but it had been a week and it still wasn’t done.
Could that… become something?
There was an immediate answer.
Boom!
The Kraken’s leg extended, and the fight ended pathetically.
[Kraken → Balloon Gum]
The trash that seemed like it might become something simply reverted to trash once more.
“Damn it! We lost!”
Macaron, in frustration, threw the trash from the desk into the trash bin.
Thunk!
“….”
That’s when it occurred to me.
‘Does everything have to be won to mean something?’
Did a story only have meaning if it ended in victory?
If there’s no meaning without victory, what about the opponent?
What happens to their time?
Are they no different from the trash in that bin?
Is it meaningless?
If that’s the case, how many meaningful humans exist in this world?
There’s only one winner per league.
Actually, why was there so much trash piled up there in the first place?
Crumpled papers. What were all those?
‘From making video scripts….’
That trash.
Eighty percent of it came from working on video scripts.
Does that have no meaning?
Macaron stood there blankly for a moment, then tossed the trash back into the bin.
Thunk…!
The shot goes in.
‘Ah…!’
That’s when inspiration struck him.
‘This is going to be fun.’
His hands moved of their own accord.
I no longer needed a script.
Wasn’t there already so many crumpled scripts lying around?
Those pieces of trash had entered my mind.
These weren’t scripts meant for this video, but they weren’t scripts that couldn’t be used for other videos either.
I pieced them together like fragments.
The clever young man.
Reina from Jello.
The meeting with Popcorn.
Multiple pieces connected by a single thread.
Multiple stitches flowing into one stream.
Multiple colors forming one pattern.
And so this trash….
[Trash’s Slam Dunk]
#Trending Video 1st Place
became something.
“!”
-kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
-kkkkthis is hilarious kkkkk
-Wow
Gum-shaped ㅠㅠㅠㅠ
-Oh damn this is Macaron’s kkkkk
-Letmi had it the worst
-Epilogue) Ttok-cheong ended up receiving even more money through donations…
-Clever Young Man! Clever Young Man! Clever Young Man!
.
.
.
Countless live chat messages and comments pouring in afterward.
‘Did I… get 1st place…?’
Macaron couldn’t believe it.
There had been a few times when my videos performed well.
But given my video style’s rather niche appeal, I’d never ranked 1st before.
Reaching first place, even if just for a moment in real-time—how easy could that possibly be?
Even Seojia, who’s so skilled, barely manages to claim it once or twice when episodes are backed by collaborations and special content.
‘But… just a placement test game?’
There had been no special episode.
The ending was even a defeat.
‘This… I…’
In a way, this livestream could have simply been incinerated like trash.
But this trash had become something.
“I did it!”
He had done it.
Crash!
I had no idea how it happened.
He kicked the door open and left as if he’d gone out yesterday too.
!
It was evening, and at the dinner table, just as Macaron had come and eaten yesterday…
“You’re home? Come eat.”
His rice, stew, and spoon were laid out.
…
A moment of silence.
Macaron… no, Jeehu Kim walked slowly toward his family’s table.
He sat down.
Home-cooked food eaten with family, not delivery.
I couldn’t remember how long it had been.
I truly couldn’t remember.
This feeling, as if I’d eaten this yesterday too.
My family naturally resumed eating, their spoons clinking softly.
My younger sibling chattered away about what happened at school.
Friends had teased her for not being good at English.
Such idle talk.
“…So. Oppa. Teach me some English.”
“…What?”
“You’re good at English, oppa.”
My younger sibling’s eyes sparkled particularly brightly.
They glistened like a lake about to spill over any moment…
“Yeah.”
As Jihu nodded, he realized through the warm sensation flowing down his eyes.
That his eyes were probably the same as his younger sibling’s.
“But I’m not good at English. I’m just better than you.”
“…Hey!”

* * *
After finishing my meal, I returned to my room.
“…Sigh.”
I gathered my courage and picked up the phone I’d buried away for so long.
[Team Leader Seojia: The video was amazing!]
[Team Leader Seojia: And your performance was good too? Did you check?]
[Team Leader Seojia: But you don’t need to come in. The CEO is just being a bit over the top…]
Team Leader Seojia had sent me many messages.
She was clearly trying to comfort me.
‘Right. I don’t need to go in. I performed well enough from here, didn’t I?’
I’d only just stepped out of my room.
Going to the office would be impossible.
But─
“Ugh….”
I clutched my head in my hands.
I’d once seen a video with Almond, Jia, and Juhyeok together.
Was it a live broadcast from that kimchi stew restaurant?
They all looked so close, and I envied them.
Could I ever fit in there too?
I’d even imagined such things.
‘There’s no helping it!’
I groaned and tore at my hair frantically.
“Damn it!”
Trembling, I pressed the call button.
The owner of this number, which I pressed with the same dread as calling a black market broker─
[CEO Juhyeok Kim of Mixnuts]
was the CEO with eighteen missed calls.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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