Genius Archer’s Streaming - Chapter 135

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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 1 Episode 135
47. Filming Location (3)
“Hey. Where are you going?!”
“The restroom.”
I rushed to the restroom, leaving Juhyeok behind.
Fortunately, no one was in the restroom.
Thud.
I immediately planted both arms on the sink as if to brace myself.
Ragged breathing escaped my lips, and my heartbeat quickened.
Was I afraid? No.
I gripped a corner of my chest as if to tear it out. I seemed to be angry.
Rrrip….
The seams of the white garment came undone.
Soon, I remembered that this was a costume borrowed from here, and I released the tension in my hands.
The crumpled fabric slowly smoothed itself out again.
My gaze shifted to the mirror.
A familiar face stared back at me.
The Sanghyeon in the mirror had slightly fuller cheeks and softer features.
There were no sharp lines between my brows, and the rosy flush on my cheeks revealed a youthful innocence.
That bastard had said it with such a brazen face.
「I’ve lost interest. I’m going to quit.」
My breath caught in my throat.
My gaze plummeted downward. Through the strands of fallen hair, the eyes of my younger self trembled.
No matter how hard I tried to appear shameless, I was closer to a boy in age. There was no way I could easily bear such a lie that would upend my entire life.
My trembling right hand struggled to turn on the water.
Whoooosh….
Water that was neither cold nor hot poured out.
With shaking hands, I cupped it and splashed it across my face.
Splash.
It wasn’t enough.
I turned the faucet a bit more to the right and caught the cold water.
Once more, I threw it against my face.
The icy water of deep winter cut sharply into my skin.
“Haa….”
Only then did I come to my senses.
Looking in the mirror again, I saw myself—nearly in my thirties—soaking wet.
I spoke to myself.
“Why are you like this.”
Our gazes met.
“I’ve never fainted just from seeing a bow in reality… Why are you like this.”
There were only people asking questions, but no one offering answers.
“Because you told me to shoot?”
Still no response came, but it seemed to be the right answer.
It had never happened before. Not once since that accident had anyone come to me with a bow and asked me to shoot. At least not in reality.
Sanghyeon’s eyes in the mirror darted back and forth. It was a habit that emerged whenever he desperately racked his brain.
“Should I say I’m struggling because of an injury…?”
I was searching for an excuse.
I had to figure out why I couldn’t shoot, and come up with some plausible explanation no matter what.
There had to be limits to how much Juhyeok Kim and Department Manager Oh could cover for me.
If I said it was an injury, everyone would probably accept it.
But then…
“What about the next filming session?”
This kind of situation would happen frequently from now on.
What would I do then? Should I claim it was a permanent injury?
That didn’t seem like a bad option either.
Or should I just be honest and tell them everything at this point? Even if Department Manager Oh and Director Han kept their mouths shut, the rumor might spread eventually anyway.
Yes, let’s do that. It wasn’t even a bad thing, was it?
Even if I only told the film crew, how far would that rumor really spread?
Convinced I’d found the best solution, I finally stepped back from the mirror and straightened my posture.
“…”
But my feet wouldn’t move.
A sticky, uncomfortable sensation clung to my shadow and wouldn’t let go.
From that shadow, I heard Soyeon’s voice.
“How cowardly.”
My eyes snapped open.
Only then did my mind fully clear.

* * *
It was around the time Department Manager Oh and Department Manager Go’s voices were growing louder.
“When does physical therapy end? We need to get this scene. Almond’s Reckless Warrior character shooting arrows! I’ll arrange a separate shooting schedule if needed. Just do it then!”
“No, listen. This isn’t something that can be done in a day or two?!”
“At least tell us what kind of injury it is──”
Thud.
Sanghyeon pushed open the glass door and entered.
“I’ll….”
“…Yes, Sanghyeon?”
Cutting through the awkward silence, Sanghyeon walked straight toward the staff member.
“I’ll do it. Give it to me.”
“…Huh?”
The staff member’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘An injury, he said?’
Based on what Department Manager Oh had just said, wasn’t today supposed to be a day when he couldn’t shoot arrows?
“It’s fine. Give it to me.”
Sanghyeon practically snatched the bow and headed back toward the filming location.
The set where Sanghyeon was supposed to be filmed stood empty and white, with Miho and Balloon Gum watching him with worried eyes.
Juhyeok seemed to be deep in thought about something, sitting in his chair with his gaze lowered. He hadn’t even noticed Sanghyeon’s arrival.
“Are you really sure about this? We can reschedule this.”
“It’s fine. I think Department Manager Oh just exaggerated things because he was worried.”
Only after hearing a staff member persistently questioning Sanghyeon did Juhyeok lift his head.
‘Huh?’
And he realized what was in Sanghyeon’s hands.
‘?!’
Without thinking, a shout of “Don’t do something crazy!” nearly burst from his throat, but he barely managed to hold it back.
‘He’s not being forced into this.’
The staff and director weren’t forcing him to film.
Rather, Sanghyeon was the one pulling and taking the bow.
‘What’s going on? I had so many excuses prepared.’
Juhyeok had been certain Sanghyeon couldn’t shoot arrows, and he’d prepared a whole list of excuses.
But could he actually shoot?
It was confusing.
“I’m, I’m really giving it to you? Please tell me if there’s any problem.”
To the staff member who kept emphasizing the point, Sanghyeon simply pulled again and took the bow as if snatching it away.
‘Is he really going to do this?’
Gulp.
Juhyeok swallowed hard.
The filming director gave the signal.
“Alright. Once you’re ready, raise your hand. Run quickly, reach the cover, and hit your shots~”

* * *
Thump, thump, thump──
My heart, which rarely trembled under ordinary circumstances, raced wildly.
Blood rushed through my veins in a frenzy, sweat pouring from every pore of my body.
As if I were expelling every drop of moisture within me.
I clenched my teeth firmly.
‘I can do this.’
I would succeed.
It wasn’t mere recklessness or unfounded confidence.
There was actually no reason I couldn’t do it.
‘The requirement is surprisingly simple.’
As I cleared my mind and carefully examined their demands, the situation finally came into proper focus.
‘I can do this with this hand.’
My right hand wasn’t non-functional.
It simply didn’t function with ‘precision.’
Normally there was a slight tremor in my hand, and if I typed on a keyboard for extended periods, that tremor would worsen—a minor disability at worst.
That disability would have been fatal in archery, where I needed to hit exactly a 10-point bullseye.
But now?
What were their actual demands? Did they set up an archery target, hand me a professional recurve bow, and ask me to hit the dead center of the target?
No.
I just needed to hit that distant green-covered object without missing it entirely.
The object was enormous. Compared to an archery target, it was more than twenty times larger.
Even someone who’d never shot an arrow could hit it if they were lucky.
‘It’ll be even easier if I shoot using a new method.’
There was one more reason I believed I could do this.
The practical battlefield archery technique I’d recently learned for gaming.
This archery style involved an extremely short draw time. It didn’t matter if the aim point wavered—I’d simply draw quickly and release.
Prioritizing speed over accuracy to maximize hit probability was the strategy.
It was archery perfectly suited to my current situation.
Accuracy was worthless in this scenario anyway.
Just shoot as many arrows as possible and hope at least one hits.
‘It’ll work.’
The problem was that I’d never actually shot a bow that way in reality before.
But I decided to trust myself.
Snap.
My hand rose.
“Are you ready, Almond?”
“Yes. But before that… there’s only one arrow here. Don’t you have any more?”

* * *
Sanghyeon suddenly ordered more arrows.
Juhyeok watched silently, wondering what he was up to.
“Juhyeok. Is Almond alright?”
Department Manager Oh sat down beside him.
“Almond. Is something wrong?”
Miho had already settled in beside them. Balloon Gum was still watching from a distance.
‘Did I cause a commotion earlier?’
The incident with the staff earlier had drawn too much attention.
It didn’t help that we were now just waiting for Almond’s filming to wrap.
“Hmm….”
Juhyeok gave Department Manager Oh a meaningful look—one that said he couldn’t speak freely with Miho present.
Department Manager Oh nodded in understanding. But even so, he couldn’t exactly send Miho away.
After all, Miho was scheduled to film next. Telling her to sit elsewhere would be ridiculous.
“Excuse me. Manager. Is something wrong with Almond?”
“….”
Juhyeok kept his gaze fixed elsewhere and his lips sealed.
It wasn’t intentional, but if he made eye contact with Miho, he’d blurt out the truth like a sneeze.
“Manager?”
Miho asked once more.
This woman had a good personality. Usually, people would back off if ignored like this, but she maintained that innocent smile.
She remained genuinely cheerful.
Guilt pricked at Juhyeok’s chest.
“Well… no. I just… felt a bit dizzy earlier. So I went to the restroom… I think it’s because this intense filming is new to me.”
“Ah…!”
Miho nodded brightly with a smile.
“That’s right. I was like that at first too.”
“I see.”
The robotic reply came back, but Miho didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she pointed at Sanghyeon with childlike excitement.
“Oh! He’s about to shoot now. I’ve never actually seen someone shoot a bow before. But why four arrows…?”
“Huh?”
Juhyeok followed her pointing finger and looked at Almond.
One arrow was nocked in each of Sanghyeon’s fingers.
Four arrows in total.
‘That’s….’
Wasn’t that the warfare archery technique they’d used extensively in Battle Rage?
A grip method that drastically reduced the time needed to draw from the quiver, enabling four consecutive shots in an instant.
‘Can he actually do that?’
It wasn’t impossible in reality.
After all, the person who popularized this technique across the world was a real historical figure.
But Sanghyeon probably hadn’t attempted this in reality…
“Wow… that’s the technique from the Battle Rage video! So it actually works!”
‘Though I’m not entirely sure about that yet…’
Miho was delighted, but Juhyeok’s mind churned with confusion.
Sanghyeon had quit archery because of his right hand—so why was he stepping up to shoot now, and not just one arrow but four?
Moreover, war archery, which he wasn’t even as familiar with as regular archery?
What on earth was happening?
Click.
Sanghyeon’s hand rose again.
“Alright. Rolling now!”
Bang!
The slate clapped shut as the cue signal went up.
Sanghyeon kicked off and bolted forward like an arrow. In an instant, he threw himself into a roll, arriving just before the cover.
“Whoa… he’s good!”
“Wow. We didn’t even ask him to roll. That was natural.”
Department Manager Oh and Miho exclaimed simultaneously.
The movements flowed together as naturally as if he’d practiced dozens of times.
‘This guy… he’s got insane athleticism.’
Juhyeok swallowed his admiration silently.
Sanghyeon raised his bow from behind the cover.
Creak—
Finally, one of the arrows in his right hand was nocked onto the bowstring.
‘Will it work?’
Before that thought could even finish—
Twang!!
The arrow flew almost simultaneously with the nocking.
“!?”
It struck the base of the massive green-covered pillar.
‘It hit…’
Could that really be called a hit? It was ambiguous. It wasn’t the overwhelming precision Sanghyeon usually displayed.
‘Why the base specifically?’
‘What’s this?’
Both Department Manager Oh and Miho froze for a moment.
It did hit, but why deliberately aim for the base? Had he missed?
Their expressions were uncertain.
‘Damn. He missed.’
Only Juhyeok, who had actually seen Sanghyeon’s archery skill on video in reality, was certain something was wrong.
But then—
Twang!
The next arrow flew in an instant.
Thunk!
This time the arrow embedded itself higher up.
“Oh!”
“That’s it!”
People shot to their feet.
They opened their mouths as if to say something.
But Sanghyeon’s next arrow was already in flight.
Whoosh──
The third arrow whistled through the air and struck even higher.
Thunk!!
This time it hit nearly dead center.
A position anyone would call a direct hit.
And the final shot….
Crack!!
The arrow flew like lightning.
It pierced precisely into the area that would correspond to the head of a human figure.
Thunk!
‘Is it done…?’
‘!’
‘…!’
A brief silence fell over the set.
The Director’s eyes snapped instantly to the computer screen beside him.
On the display showing real-time CG rendering, an arrow was lodged perfectly in the head of the colossal giant.
The Director’s hand shot up.
“Cut!”
He flashed a wide smile with his approval.
“Excellent! Absolutely perfect! That was incredible!? You nailed it in one take?!”
Sanghyeon barely managed to shove his trembling right hand into his pocket before collapsing to the ground.
A faint smile bloomed on his lips, mingled with beads of sweat.

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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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