I Have a Reason to Hate Streamers Chapter 105

My parents ran a small company together.

At the ti, I didn’t fully understand what kind of work they did, but now I know.

They were developing virtual reality interfaces and were involved in several governnt research projects as well.

It wasn’t a company big enough to hire many employees.

So, when I was a child, my parents were always busy with work.

Both of them were constantly working overti, and there were tis when they had to sleep at the office due to their workload.

It wasn’t that I didn’t receive love, or that they prioritized work over .

This isn’t that kind of story.

My parents never once neglected .

Even during their busiest tis, they made sure to co ho and see .

Even if it was only for 30 minutes, they would take turns making ti to have a al with , sacrificing their sleep.

Because I understood that this was my parents' way of showing love, I grew up quite mature for my age.

"Son, your grades dropped quite a bit this ti."

"I'm sorry. It’s not that I didn’t study, but it was just difficult."

"Do you think studying doesn’t suit you?"

"Yeah, maybe a little."

I wasn’t exactly a diligent son either.

Both of my parents had graduated from prestigious universities and were considered elites.

But my school grades never exceeded the middle rank, even at their best.

It wasn’t like I didn’t study at all, but that was just how it was.

So, when my parents finally brought up the topic of my grades, I thought, "Here it cos."

Honestly, it was surprising they hadn’t ntioned it sooner.

"I’m not trying to nag you. I don’t want to be one of those moms from the parent-teacher association."

"Um..."

"Those won act like they can predict the future, but they don’t even notice when their children are falling apart right in front of them. I don’t want to be that kind of parent."

My parents loved .

I’m sure of that.

Even though our ti together wasn’t always long, it was enough for to be certain.

They loved deeply, fiercely even.

That’s why, even in their final monts, they could say it without hesitation.

It’s been years since then, but that voice remains vivid in my dreams.

"I love you, my son."

When soone is in pain, they scream.

When they’re afraid, their breath becos ragged.

When they’re anxious, their body curls up.

Death brings with it pain, fear, and anxiety.

Yet, just before my mother died, she wrapped herself around without a mont of hesitation.

She looked at with the warst, most sorrowful expression in the world.

There wasn’t a hint of any other emotion in her eyes.

Her mind must have been filled with thoughts of , not of herself.

I wasn’t a child who grew up without love.

"...I’ll try harder with my grades."

"No, let’s focus on finding sothing you like first. Have you thought about trying a sport?"

"Sports? Like taekwondo or baseball?"

"Yes, those are popular with kids your age."

"I’m not really that interested, but... I don’t hate the idea, so I’ll give it a try."

We weren’t struggling financially.

If I wanted to try sothing, I could do it without much concern.

Even if I grew up to be a diocre adult, there was no rush.

But honestly, it wasn’t enough.

As a child, I had many wishes.

I wanted to spend more ti without feeling lonely.

When I ca ho from school, I wished the house wouldn’t be empty.

I preferred homade als over the takeout food my friends loved.

My parents showered with love, but for a greedy child like , it wasn’t enough.

Still... I couldn’t complain.

No one knew better than I did how hard my parents were working.

I didn’t want to burden them with childish complaints.

"So, your dad's friend runs a kendo dojo. How about trying it out for a month?"

"Kendo? Sure. When do I start?"

"How about tomorrow? I’ll let him know you’re coming."

"All I need to do is show up?"

"That’s right. I’ll talk to him for you."

There wasn’t much else for to do anyway.

I didn’t enjoy studying, and I didn’t have a hobby I was passionate about.

Trying sothing new during my free ti didn’t seem like a bad idea.

From the corner of my vision, I could see the bamboo sword moving.

The tip of the sword wobbled slightly as it approached—it seed unstable.

It ant the attacker had left room to apply more force in another direction.

I received the first strike with all my strength and imdiately deflected the opponent’s blade outward.

Success.

The sword, lacking sufficient force, was pushed back, exposing a gap.

I swung my bamboo sword at the now open torso.

Thwack!

A satisfying sound echoed.

"So, how’s my kid? Is he doing well?"

"...He’s got talent. A lot of it, actually. Have you thought about letting him pursue it seriously?"

"Oh, stop, Seok-won. You’re exaggerating. I’m not so gullible."

"No, really. This is the first ti I’ve seen sothing like this."

"Oh my, really? Well, he’s always been good when he puts his mind to it, but he doesn’t do that often..."

Mom, stop it.

This is embarrassing.

I can hear everything from here.

Anyway, kendo turned out to be more fun than I expected.

People tend to enjoy things they’re good at.

As my skills quickly improved, so did my interest.

I soon encountered my first failure in life, but looking back, that was a valuable experience too.

For various reasons, I grew to like kendo.

I worked hard, so hard that I bled.

I defeated senior students who were known to be strong, and even beca a difficult opponent for active players.

Eventually, there was only one person left who could still spar with .

I liked winning.

I guess, like many others, I had a strong sense of competition from a young age.

And... sothing else.

"Son! We’re here!"

"Huh? Weren’t you busy?"

"Our son is competing, so of course we made ti. Has your match started yet?"

"No, it’s almost my turn."

"Good. We’ll be cheering you on. Do your best, son!"

It was my way of seeking attention.

My parents were busy, constantly swamped with work, but they always made ti to co see .

There was no point in whining about it.

I’d known this since I was little.

But deep down, I wished for more ti with my family.

Back then, I was much younger than I am now, and I craved connection more.

Competitions were a good excuse for that.

Whenever I had an important match, my parents would make ti for .

No matter what, they would clear their schedules for the day.

"Weren’t you too busy for this? Did you push yourself too hard?"

"Not at all. Seok-won told today was an important match for you, so of course, I had to co."

"I could’ve done it alone, you know."

"Hey, do you know how much your mom’s been looking forward to today? And by the way, our son is amazing! I couldn’t keep up—it was all too fast for to see."

"It’s... not that hard if you focus."

Through my teenage years, as my body and mind matured, my parents never missed a single event.

On the mornings of my tournants, they’d prepare a light al with salmon.

After my matches, we always spent ti together as a family.

Sotis, I found them a bit overbearing or embarrassing, but I never disliked it.

"It’s okay if you’re too busy. I’m not a kid anymore."

Honestly, that was a lie.

I was incredibly grateful and happy that they ca.

I was looking forward to it too... but I was too awkward to say it.

I wish I could have told them that, at least once, while they were still alive.

"Don’t say that. We’ve never pushed ourselves too hard just to be there for you."

"In monts like this, family should be together. Whether you’re happy from winning or sad from losing, those feelings should never be swallowed by loneliness."

I can’t rember exactly which tournant it was.

But as I grumbled, embarrassed, my mother stroked my neck and said that to .

I don’t know why it was my neck, but I rember that her touch, gently caressing the left side of my neck, was warm.

That’s why it was my neck.

[Training Mode – Free Practice]

[Map: Cradle of Delusion]

[Participant: Ga-wol (Swordmaster)]

"I feel awful..."

A sticky discomfort crawled all over my body, and I couldn’t stop scratching my neck.

No one was watching, so I used my nails to claw at the left side of my neck.

It hurt, but the warmth of the blood flowing out was oddly comforting.

There was a reason I picked up a sword—it was for my parents.

The parents who loved .

The parents I wanted to seek attention from, to whine to just a little more.

The sword held all my childhood, my family, and my happiness.

But now, all the emotions I had poured into the sword had turned pitch black.

I still couldn’t bring myself to hold it again.

Before the blade touched anything dangerous, I shut off the ga.

[Infinity Black has been terminated.]

[Thank you for using Infinity Black, Ga-wol.]