I Have a Reason to Hate Streamers

My parents ran a small company together.

Back then, I didn’t know what exactly they did, but now I understand.

They developed connection devices in the virtual reality field. And it seems they dabbled in several government research projects as well.

Their company wasn’t making enough profit to hire many employees.

So when I was young, my parents were always busy.

Both of them were often swamped with late-night work.

There were times when they were so busy they had to sleep at the office.

It wasn’t that I felt unloved or that their child was getting the short end of the stick.

That kind of story didn’t apply to me.

My parents never neglected me, even once.

They would come to check on my face, no matter how busy they were.

Just for 30 minutes, they would carve out time to have a meal with me and lose some sleep for it.

Knowing that was their love—I actually grew up quite mature.

“Son, your grades have dropped quite a bit this time.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not like I didn’t study at all, but it was a bit tough.”

“Is studying just not your thing?”

“Yeah, a little.”

However, I wasn’t exactly the most diligent son, either.

Both my parents graduated from prestigious universities and were elites.

But my school grades were barely above average.

It wasn’t that I didn’t study at all or anything!

So when my parents finally mentioned “grades,” I thought the inevitable had come.

Honestly, I was surprised that they hadn’t said anything until that point.

“I’m not trying to lecture you. Mom doesn’t want to act like those other PTA moms.”

“Hmm…”

“Those women act like they know the future, but can’t even see their dying child’s face. I don’t want to become that kind of terrible parent.”

My parents loved me.

I truly believe that.

I can be sure of it even with the short time I had with them.

They loved me fiercely.

So it must have been easy for them to say that just before death.

Even after quite some time had passed, that voice was so clear it would come to me in dreams.

—I love you, my son.

When a person is in pain, what comes out is definitely a scream.

When frightened, the breath quickens, and when anxious, the body instinctively shrinks.

Death in humans is accompanied by pain, fear, and anxiety.

Yet, at the brink of death, my mother embraced me without any hesitation.

She looked at me with the warmest, most pitiful expression in the world.

In her gaze, she probably felt none of that other stuff.

For sure, her thoughts were filled with my feelings, not her own.

I was not a child who grew up without receiving love.

“…I’ll try a bit harder with my grades.”

“No, instead, let’s find something you might like first. How about trying some sports?”

“Sports? Like taekwondo or baseball?”

“Yeah, those things that kids your age usually do.”

“I’m not really interested yet. But… It’s not like I hate it, so I guess I can give it a shot.”

We were doing reasonably well financially.

If there was something I wanted to try, I could do so without too much trouble.

Even if I ended up growing into a less competent adult—it wouldn’t matter much.

But yeah, honestly, I fell short.

As a child, I wanted for a lot.

I wished to spend a bit more time without feeling lonely.

When I returned home after school, I hoped my house wouldn’t be empty.

I preferred homemade meals over the delivery food my friends loved so much.

My parents cared for me with great love, but for greedy me, it still felt like an absolute lack.

Yet… I couldn’t complain.

I knew better than anyone how hard my parents were working.

I didn’t want to trouble them with childish whining.

“So, there’s a brother of your dad who teaches kendo. How about trying it out for a month as a trial?”

“Kendo? Got it. When do I start?”

“Well, speaking of it, how about you go tomorrow?”

“Just have to show up, right?”

“That’s right. I’ll let him know in advance.”

Either way, there wasn’t much to run around for.

Studying was dull, and I didn’t really have any hobbies worth getting attached to.

Trying something out in my free time wouldn’t be so bad.

*

At the edge of my vision, my sword moves.

The approaching blade wavers strangely—it looked a little unstable.

That meant they were leaving room for me to put power in the opposite direction.

I deflected the opponent’s blade outward while taking the first blow with all my strength.

Success.

The sword that lacked enough power got pushed away, revealing an opening.

My blade crashed into the unguarded body.

Thwack!

A pleasing sound rang out.

“How’s my kid doing? Is he good?”

“….He has talent. A lot of it. Are you seriously thinking of making him a player?”

“Oh, Seokwon, you’re exaggerating. I wouldn’t take that at face value.”

“No, really. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Oh my, oh my. Is my kid that good? Well, it’s just that he doesn’t want to practice, but if he does, how well can he do…”

Mom, that’s enough.

I’m embarrassed just listening to this.

I can hear everything!

Anyway, trying kendo for the first time was unexpectedly fun.

People enjoy doing what they are good at.

I quickly gained skill and became interested.

Soon, I did face my first failure, but looking back, it was good experience.

For various reasons, I came to love kendo.

I worked hard enough to almost bleed.

I defeated upperclassmen, and became a tough opponent even for the active players.

In the end, I improved to the point where there was barely anyone left to practice with me.

Winning felt good.

It was true that I had an exceptional competitive spirit from a young age.

And… one more thing.

“Son! We’re here!”

“Huh? I thought you were busy.”

“Our son is competing in a tournament, so of course we’d make time for it! The match hasn’t started yet, right?”

“No, my turn will come up soon.”

“Good! I’ll be cheering for you. Do well, son!”

It was childish.

My parents were busy.

Even amidst the craziness, they came to see me.

Trying to whine about it would only make things awkward for both of us.

I knew that well since I was little.

But deep down, I wished we had more time together as a family.

Back then, I was much younger and much more dependent on others than I am now.

For me, tournaments… were a good excuse.

Whenever I had an important match, my parents would somehow find a way.

They truly made time to clear their schedules for me.

“Even though you said you were busy, you’re not pushing yourselves too hard, are you?”

“Push ourselves? Seokwon told me all about it. Today is your big match. So we had to come.”

“I can do fine on my own, you know.”

“So? Do you have any idea how much he was looking forward to today? Our son really is amazing, isn’t he? I can’t see a single thing because I’m too fast!”

“Just… if you focus, you can see everything.”

Until I went through adolescence and my body and mind matured a little.

My parents never missed a single opportunity.

On the morning of tournament days, we had a light meal of salmon.

Once the daytime matches were over, we always spent time together as a family.

Sometimes, I found my parents annoying, and at other times, they embarrassed me, but I never disliked them.

“If you’re too busy, you really don’t have to come. I’m not a kid anymore.”

In truth, that was a lie.

I was super grateful and happy that they came.

I was really looking forward to it… but I couldn’t express it because I was awkward.

I should have told them at least once while they were still alive.

“Don’t say such things. I never overdo it to the point of worrying you.”

“At moments like these, family should be together. Whether you’re happy to win or sad to lose, those feelings shouldn’t be consumed by loneliness.”

I don’t exactly remember which tournament it was.

While I was grumbling out of embarrassment, my mom was rubbing my neck and saying such things.

I don’t know why she was rubbing my neck.

I only remember that the hand that touched me—those warm, gentle fingers that caressed the left side of my neck—were incredibly comforting.

So, it was the neck.

[Training Mode – Free Practice]

[Battlefield: The Cradle of the Fallen]

[Participant: Gawol (Sword Master)]

“I feel gross…”

A sticky discomfort crawled over my entire body, and I couldn’t stand the itch on my neck.

With no one watching, I scratched it brutally with my nails.

It hurt, but with blood oozing out, it felt warm.

There was definitely a reason I wielded a sword.

My loving parents. The desire to be a little whiny and needy.

All my childhood, family, and happiness were packed into that sword.

Now, all the emotions I’d packed into that sword had turned dark and discolored.

So I still couldn’t bring myself to wield it.

Before the blade touched a dangerous place, I shut off the game.

[Infinity Black has been terminated.]

[Gawol, thank you for using our service.]

---