Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: I Still Want to Shoot (1)**

'What if I just let it go?'

It's 3 PM. This is always the time when I think about it.

"Can't you even do this one thing properly?! Hey? Ha..."

In front of me, the bald manager, who is spitting out words, has a protruding belly.

"Hey! Are you listening? Is it even reasonable to prepare this as meeting material...?"

Under that belly, the manager's precious possession is hidden.

'I could hit it from 500 meters away.'

Yoo Sang-hyun was gauging how far he could shoot and still hit the target.

"Hey!!!"

The manager's roar was followed by a flying document.

Swish.

Sang-hyun's head tilted slightly, and the document grazed his ear, landing in the trash can behind him.

"You! How can you be thinking about something else when someone is talking to you?!"

Only then did Sang-hyun come to his senses and immediately bowed.

"I'm sorry."

His hands were clasped politely, but his right hand was trembling uncontrollably.

The manager's gaze lingered on his hand.

"Ugh... Where did you get this idiot from...? Slow hands, slow mind..."

The trembling paused briefly at the word "idiot," but the manager didn't notice.

"Get out! You!"

The manager finally turned his chair back to the computer and gestured for him to leave.

"I'll go."

Sang-hyun nodded casually and left the manager's office as if nothing had happened.

"Phew. I made it through another day."

As soon as he stepped out, his expression became completely clear.

This is what is commonly known as mental management, a skill essential for archers.

"Hey, did you get scolded again today?"

A colleague approached and asked.

"Well, of course."

"Ha... You really... Working under a boss who's not even in your league is tough."

"What can I do? If I got a parachuted position, I have to work like a slave."

"Parachute."

That was always Sang-hyun's nickname.

He had to leave the archery world due to an injury, unable to fully realize his innate talent. A coach, who felt sorry for him, managed to get him a position at this company through connections.

"You're good at self-reflection."

The colleague laughed, surprised by Sang-hyun's candidness in calling himself a "parachute."

"Well, I need to know my place."

Sang-hyun pressed and released his aching right arm, answering casually.

'Know yourself before you know your enemy... It brings back old memories.'

From the words about knowing one's place, Sang-hyun recalled his days as an athlete. These were the words his coach always told him.

Back then, when he was treated as the most promising young talent, these words didn't really resonate with him. But now, as he faces a life of constant scolding, they hit home.

"Hey, I'm leaving first. If I don't reorganize the report, I'll have to work overtime."

After a brief moment of reminiscence, Sang-hyun quickly regained his composure and ran to his desk.

* * *

After work.

He stopped by a convenience store, bought four cans of beer, and headed home.

"Phew... I barely avoided overtime."

He looked at the clock as he returned home. It was 9 PM.

He quickly sat down in front of his computer and turned on a sports video.

'Why did I suddenly think of this today?'

Snap.

He opened a beer can and watched the video. He used to watch it whenever he felt down, but he hadn't seen it recently.

The video showed the day he won the national championship as the youngest competitor.

In the video, the young athlete in white takes a deep breath.

The bowstring is drawn, his breathing stops, and his eyes fiercely focus on the target.

All the training and practice were for this one moment of release.

The taut bowstring is released.

Whoosh.

Snap!

Bullseye.

- Wow!!!

- Another bullseye! The lens is shattered!! The youngest, the youngest...

- A genius of historic proportions! You are witnessing history...

The commentators' excited voices are synchronized with close-ups of young Sang-hyun's face.

"Wow, he looks good."

Swallow.

He sighed and took a sip of beer.

The video continued with interviews and award ceremonies, then ended.

His face was faintly reflected on the black screen.

"I'm getting old..."

In fact, at 28, he was still young. But the video showed a much younger and vibrant version of himself.

"Let's watch some game streams."

He followed his usual routine and turned on a game stream he often watched.

He didn't particularly like games and had never played one. Since he had only practiced archery since childhood, he never had time to play games with his peers.

Sports require a lot of money.

Living with his grandmother, Sang-hyun couldn't afford it. He had to get scholarships.

As a result, he never played games and practiced archery obsessively, achieving the feat of winning the national championship at the youngest age.

At the time, he thought everything would go smoothly.

"Of course, it didn't."

Swallow.

He took a big sip of beer, swallowing the difficult memories. He then focused back on the game stream.

The screen showed a popular 'Full Dive' virtual reality game.

- Hey! Move! Why can't I hit anything!?

- Critical! Critical!! Cut!

Full Dive virtual reality games provide the ultimate indirect experience, making it feel like you're inside the game. They are often called "capsule games" because you need a capsule to play them. The capsule is very expensive, making it a luxury for a salaryman like Sang-hyun.

For him, just being able to watch such an amazing game while drinking beer was a stroke of luck.

A viewer lamented the streamer's poor aim and donated money. The donation program read it out in a silly voice.

- Amy! Amy! Where are you?!

More similar donations followed.

A donation predicting he would turn off and restart the game in 5 minutes to edit it. A donation predicting he would blame the game capsule's response time, and so on. Many donations continued.

The chat was flooded with "hahaha."

However, Sang-hyun's face hardened.

"Really... Even being bad can be a talent. Is it hard to hit that? It looks easy."

Back then.

The days when he threw everything into being good seemed pitiful now.

"Let's go to bed."

Time had passed, and it was now time to prepare for the next day's work.

A regular life.

One of the habits ingrained in him from his athlete days.

Soon, the lights in his room were turned off, and the curtains were drawn, blocking out the city lights outside.

* * *

The next day.

As soon as he arrived at work, he was called to the manager's office.

'What is it...? The atmosphere doesn't seem right.'

Being called to the manager's office was a familiar situation, but the looks from his colleagues were strange.

He had good eyesight and could read their subtle expressions from a distance.

'This is weird.'

His conclusion was that everyone seemed off today.

He found out why when he entered the manager's office.

Snap.

A resignation letter was placed in front of him.

"...There will be a restructuring."

The manager continued without looking at him.

"If you leave now, we can take care of you. If you're pushed out by the restructuring, you won't even get that."

The manager's voice and expression were so indifferent that it felt like he wasn't even talking to him.

"You're the only one. In our team. You know, everyone works hard."

The manager was now using his other colleagues as leverage.

'He must have been planning to scold me for pushing too hard yesterday...'

Actually, yesterday's report wasn't bad. Sang-hyun knew that. But the manager persistently found faults and pushed him.

As a mere assistant, when the manager pushed, he could only say sorry. That was the rule.

And now, following that rule, he had to step down from his position.

"...I understand."

His answer came out more easily than he expected, and the manager finally turned to look at him.

"Really?"

"Isn't it better to leave now and get a proper severance package? You'll give me a little extra, right?"

"...You're quick with the calculations."

"I recorded it, so please keep your promise."

It was a blatant lie, but the manager nodded. Many people in today's society record conversations, especially when called to the manager's office.

"Well, it's not my promise, but the company's guarantee. Don't worry."

"Should I leave today?"

"If I tell you to work today, will you?"

"...I'll pack my things."

"Damn."

Sang-hyun turned away expressionlessly. The manager's voice came from behind.

"Hey, don't take it too personally. You're a parachute, after all. The others here all graduated from tough universities, built their resumes, studied English, and even went abroad for further education. It's inevitable, even for us."

He knew.

The reason he always got scolded by the manager. The reason he had almost no colleagues. The reason he was about to lose everything.

It was all because he was a high school graduate and a former athlete.

"I know."

He slowly returned to his desk and packed his things into a box. After four years at the company, his belongings barely filled a small postal box.

* * *

"What should I do?"

Sang-hyun returned home.

He left the company coolly, but now he was on the verge of going crazy.

28 years old. High school graduate. Unemployed. Former athlete. Special skill: archery.

With such a meager resume, it seemed almost impossible for him to find a job in South Korea.

He couldn't even contact the coach who had helped him before.

"Should I at least buy some ramen? Maybe some water..."

He started to think of a shopping list as if a war had broken out.

"Ha... Ha..."

He regained his composure and took deep breaths.

He sat down in a chair, then eventually lay on the bed.

Thud.

"Ha..."

Exhausted, he fell onto the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. The round fluorescent light on the ceiling looked like the target he used to aim at.

He raised his hands aimlessly, targeting the center of the light. As if holding a bow, his breathing steadied, and his arms formed a perfect stance.

Tada... Tada...

His right hand, which was visibly trembling, worsened as time passed.

"Khe..."

Snap.

His hand finally landed back on the bed. Cold sweat dripped from Sang-hyun's forehead.

About 5 minutes later.

He suddenly got up from the bed.

He walked as if in a trance, turned on his computer, and sat down. He considered getting a beer from the fridge but decided against it.

He entered the game streaming platform he usually watched and searched for something with his trembling hands.

'Skill stream.'

He wanted to know if he could make money by being good at games.