Genius Archer’s Streaming - Chapter 322

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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 2 Episode 42
15. Family (1)
A deep breath escaped me.
I steadied my breathing with a long inhale.
Hana Song didn’t miss the flicker of emotion that crossed my eyes.
‘He was hopeful.’
She understood well what patients felt—those who hadn’t properly used parts of their bodies in years.
Even the smallest spark became fireworks in their minds.
They grasped at any thread of hope, however fragile.
At least for the first five years.
Hope followed by disappointment, despair at the reality that nothing worked, tears flowing all day long….
Then it changed.
When someone spoke of hope, they developed a rejection response instead.
It was a struggle for survival.
They didn’t want to be hurt anymore. After all, five brutal years had already taught them that statistically, their bodies couldn’t be fixed.
If you spoke sweet words to such people, they would wear a bitter expression instead.
Choi Sa-rang had been the same way until she heard the full story today.
Sanghyeon was showing the same reaction now.
Look at his eyes right now—he was observing me like a con artist, not a doctor.
‘But he did hold onto hope for just a moment.’
Still, Hana Song saw it. That brief flicker of hope that crossed Sanghyeon’s eyes.
‘If the patient is positive, any treatment becomes far easier.’
A patient’s psychological state clearly affected their body. Whether through hormonal mechanisms or some cult-like mysterious force.
What was certain was that causality always existed. No doctor anywhere denied that causality itself.
If a patient gave up, no treatment could help.
Conversely, if a patient didn’t give up, there was always hope.
“Ahem.”
Hana Song cleared her throat briefly.
Then she activated the hologram display.
She spoke brightly, as if teaching kindergarteners.
“First, I thought it would be good if you two—the only reported cases in our country—shared your conditions with each other. I explained this beforehand, right?”
Sanghyeon nodded.
“Yes.”
I had already agreed to share information with each other for treatment purposes.
“You know I’ve been obtaining Capsule data from you regularly, right?”
“Yes.”
I had also consented to information use for treatment and research purposes before.
I transmitted Capsule data to Hana Song every day.
“Based on that, I created certain metrics. It’s difficult to explain, so I thought about what kind of simple formula would work. This kind of formulization is also my specialty. VNS was created by my mentor.”
As she spoke, Hana Song displayed the letters ‘SKED’ on the hologram panel.
Since the last name wasn’t revealed, Sanghyeon was certain the “S” in front must stand for Song.
“Just think of it as ‘neural compatibility’ or SKED for short. To put it more simply, it’s a number that shows how much your legs and arms have deteriorated or improved. A positive number means improvement, naturally, and a negative number means deterioration, naturally. Shall we take a look?”
Choi Sa-rang’s information came to mind first.
[Choi Sa-rang]
[1.7 Decline]
Choi Sa-rang’s SKED score had declined by 1.7 this month.
‘A decline?’
Sanghyeon’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Maintaining the status quo was already difficult enough. A decline? What on earth had she been doing? Jeon-ja-pa didn’t even play games, did she?
But this wasn’t the time to worry about others.
“Now shall we look at your results, Sanghyeon?”
“…!?”
[Sang-hyun Yu]
[3.2 Decline]
My score had declined by as much as 3.2.
I was right not to have expected anything. I repeated this to myself internally.
‘It was bad news after all.’
I felt foolish for having harbored even a sliver of hope.
Why was this supposed to be so thrilling? Did Jeon-ja-pa perhaps enjoy suffering?
Countless stray thoughts swirled, and something hot surged up from within my chest.
I, who rarely experienced emotional turbulence, was uncharacteristically shaken.
Even knowing this was merely the beginning of the story.
My mind remained calm, but my heart raced with impatience.
“Don’t be too alarmed.”
Hana Song gently stroked the back of my hand as if to reassure me.
She had noticed my disturbance.
“This score naturally declines as you age. Unlike joints, it doesn’t improve again. You could say that if this number doesn’t decline, you’ve stopped aging.”
Was that how it worked?
“Ah….”
I felt relieved.
So improvement was fundamentally impossible from the start.
It was natural, like aging itself.
The heat that had risen in my throat gradually cooled.
“Our goal is to make this decline as slowly as possible. But of course, we can’t spend our lives lying around like corpses, right?”
Hana Song nodded to both sides as if seeking agreement.
“We consider the cost-effectiveness of how slowly we can make this decline while you all live your lives to the fullest.”
In other words, live life as enjoyably as possible while dying slowly.
In a way, it was the common goal of every individual.
“Since you changed your Capsule, Sanghyeon, your decline rate has become quite low relative to your playtime.”
That was good news.
Switching the Capsule wasn’t merely a superficial effect that reduced perspiration—it had become a fundamental solution.
“Sarang also took an interest in this Capsule and ordered one.”
At those words, Sarang beside me nodded.
“At Sanghyeon’s current pace, by his sixties, his right arm will no longer function for daily activities.”
“…?”
Sixties?
Had I misheard something?
Unable to manage daily life in his sixties?
“I told you it would continue declining. By the sixties, it’s an age where something breaks down anyway, regardless of who you are.”
That was true. The sixties were indeed old age.
I might have gotten dental implants by then.
My joints could give out.
But receiving such a direct prognosis felt different.
“However!”
Hana Song continued.
“If you don’t use the Capsule continuously, I think you could manage until eighty.”
A twenty-year difference.
The calculation emerged: I would have to sacrifice twenty years for streaming.
‘Twenty years?’
I swallowed hard.
Twenty years of not streaming, living as if dead, versus streaming and living joyfully but hitting my limit twenty years earlier with my arm.
I knew which one to choose.
I remembered how many years it took to recover when a mere three-year dream was shattered.
Twenty years from sixty to eighty and twenty years from thirty to fifty held completely different values.
The hormone levels themselves were different.
“I’ll——”
I tried to answer simply and immediately.
I didn’t think there was any reason to deliberate.
But Hana Song wasn’t waiting for my answer.
“There’s one curious phenomenon, though.”
That wasn’t what mattered today anyway.
Whoosh.
As Hana Song gestured, the hologram changed.
“Compared to the weekly figures over a month, it’s certainly negligible. But strangely enough….”
Just three days.
The hologram displayed data from only three days.
“Exactly three days. During these three days using the Capsule, your SKED levels haven’t declined even once.”
“…?”
“So if I explain it this way, you’ll really feel how remarkable this is.”
Hana Song pointed at the clock and continued speaking.
“During the two days you used the Capsule, Sanghyeon’s time stopped. He didn’t age at all. This is an incredible discovery.”
“…?”
“Which means I might be able to find a clue that could help heal your arms and legs.”
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Hana Song’s fingers drummed against the keyboard.
“I sent the data to a related research institute in the United States, and they said they’d start working on it right away, calling it fascinating material.”
Emails and transmitted data appeared on the screen, but Sanghyeon’s blurred vision couldn’t make out the details clearly.
His ears, heavy with moisture, couldn’t process the explanation well.
“You can think positively about this. It seems like it will work.”
Only that final sentence echoed endlessly in his mind.
Positively.
It was the first time he’d heard such a word regarding his arm.
Could it really work?
Could he actually believe this?
Something felt different this time.
His instinct was telling him something—this felt different from all the false hopes he’d harbored before.
My right arm trembled.
No, my entire body trembled.
Sarang was intently studying Sanghyeon’s face.
Then she asked quietly.
“…Are you crying?”
“Just yawning.”
Sanghyeon shook his head and quickly denied it.

* * *
After that, Sanghyeon and Sarang underwent regular checkups for about an hour or two.
It was the process of calculating the margin of error between the data sent by the Capsule and the actual measured data.
“We’re checking how much error there is between the information received from the Capsule and the actual measured information.”
Hana Song continued speaking as she examined the data.
“As expected, there are no cases where it falls outside the existing error range. You’re in remarkably good health, Sanghyeon—perhaps because you exercise consistently.”
This included basic health screening as well.
“Your hormone levels are excellent, Sanghyeon, and the same goes for you, Sarang. However, your recent weight….”
Hana Song stopped mid-sentence.
The person in question’s eyes had turned extremely sharp.
“Ah, haha. I’d recommend starting your morning with a light, healthy meal to increase your daily metabolic rate.”
Sanghyeon, who had worked in athletics, understood perfectly what she meant, but simply pretended not to.
After all, she was always sitting in a wheelchair, so it was natural that she’d gain weight. And with plenty of money, she probably ate delicious things all the time.
Based on the one meal I’d shared with her before, while she ate with grace and elegance, she consumed quite a lot.
“Thank you both for your time!”
With that, all the medical consultations were finished.
Stepping outside the research facility, a dignified sedan was waiting. Even Sanghyeon, who had little interest in cars, knew this one.
It was the kind of vehicle that frequently appeared on Ollytube with titles like “The Most Expensive Car in the World.”
It was different from the large van that had come last time.
“Thank you.”
Sarang expressed her gratitude to Sanghyeon, who had pushed her wheelchair. Notably, she had no attendants waiting outside today.
It seemed she hadn’t brought them along since it was an electric wheelchair anyway.
Sanghyeon had simply pushed it out of courtesy.
Still, Sarang seemed quite pleased.
She said that having someone push her gave her a sense of stability, more so than moving on her own.
The driver’s door opened, and an attendant hurried over and asked urgently.
“Lady, why didn’t you contact us?”
It seemed they were originally supposed to come inside to escort her.
“I said I could go alone.”
Sarang said that and then zoomed off toward the car.
‘Huh?’
Sanghyeon scratched his head at the contradictory statement, but quickly forgot about it.
“Sarang!”
A middle-aged man’s voice rang out loudly.
A well-built man got out of the back seat.
“Ah… Dad. I told you not to come.”
The woman who had possessed such grace, maturity, and an air of unapproachability—even something decadent—had vanished without a trace.
Suddenly, an adolescent girl had taken her place.
“What are you talking about? I’m here to see my daughter!”
He appeared to be her father.
“Ugh, so loud. And why such a flashy car…”
“Flashy? This is just a standard black sedan with no modifications. Should I change it? A real man would…”
“Never mind.”
“Ah. So you’re that Almond I’ve only heard about.”
Her father approached Almond with a booming voice.
“Ah, yes. Hello.”
“You pushed my daughter’s wheelchair today. Thank you for that.”
Incredibly intimidating atmosphere.
His words were grateful, but his eyes gleamed like he might devour Almond whole. Written all over his face was the message: Not just anyone gets to push my daughter’s wheelchair.
Almond instinctively took a step backward.
“Dad.”
He was an imposing man. Yet when Sarang called out to him in a stiff voice, he spun around frantically. I thought that terrifying expression would vanish without a trace, Sanghyeon observed, watching the man’s back.
That was likely what I would see in his face, Sanghyeon thought as he watched the man’s back.
“Ah, yes. I understand. I understand.”
He brushed his hair back once and extended his hand.
“A real man should shake hands before parting ways.”
“Ah, yes.”
Sanghyeon respectfully took his hand.
I worried he might squeeze with tremendous force, but it seemed he held back because he was mindful of his daughter’s presence.
“Dad…!”
She was already leaning out the car window, urging him along.
“Hahahaha! Well then, I’ll be going.”
He must be an incredibly successful man.
Someone who would be beneath the notice of many.
Yet watching him waddle and run off at his daughter’s single word, Sanghyeon found it endearing.
On the other hand, he felt envious too.
Having a family…
“Looks like someone came to pick you up as well?”
Just then, a familiar car approached from the other direction.
His friends waved from outside the car window.
“Almond!”
“Hey. Nutty~!”
Both of them looked pleased, as if their date had gone well.
As Sanghyeon approached with raised hands, a smile bloomed across his face. As if the three of them were reflections in a mirror.

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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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