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“Alright, let’s begin the test.”
At Assistant Manager Kim’s words, Shihyun slowly stretched.
“The test program is already installed on your device. You should find an app labeled ‘TEST’ in the applications menu. Please run it.”
“Understood.”
After the brief explanation, Shihyun navigated to the applications menu. As instructed, she found the ‘TEST’ app. She checked it and then adjusted the broadcast interface.
“The title…”
Hmm, what would be good?
This was a difficult decision.
Naming things was always the hardest, wasn’t it? A name was the easiest way to define something. That’s why naming was so important.
The same applied here. The stream title was the face of the broadcast. Its importance? Needless to say. And for a debut stream, it was even more crucial. This title would define her future streams.
As Shihyun pondered, Ji-eun approached from behind and patted her back.
“Why are you worrying so much, Shihyun? How about this: ‘Yours Truly Arrives!’ Nice and simple, right?”
Shihyun gaped at Ji-eun’s suggestion.
Good heavens. Ji-eun had no naming sense.
“Ji-eun…”
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Ugh, you’re making fun of my naming skills! You’re just like my viewers! You think I’m terrible at titles!”
Oh dear, it seemed she’d already heard this before.
Shihyun felt dizzy at the tragic revelation. This was confirmation. She held her forehead, mourning Ji-eun’s deceased naming sense.
There was a silver lining, though.
Thanks to Ji-eun, she’d found a starting point.
Shihyun opened the virtual keyboard and started typing.
Ji-eun, peeking over her shoulder, soon frowned.
“Shihyun, you’re in no position to criticize my titles.”
“Why?”
“‘Returned Hero’s Swordsmanship Stream’? Seriously? Who uses a title like that? ‘Returned Hero’ sounds so random and cheesy! Plus, this is an explanatory broadcast, not a swordsmanship lesson.”
“…That’s harsh.”
Shihyun slumped at Ji-eun’s criticism.
To be considered on par with ‘Yours Truly Arrives’…
This was a shame she would carry to her grave.
Dejected, she typed something quickly.
“…This will do.”
“Hmm, well. It’s passable.”
Ji-eun nodded with a somewhat dissatisfied expression.
She still seemed displeased, but at least it was better than ‘Yours Truly Arrives.’
Shihyun clicked her tongue and saved the title.
Then, she launched the ‘TEST’ application.
The world shifted, and she found herself alone in an unfamiliar space. It seemed the test had begun.
And so, the simply titled broadcast, [Explanatory Broadcast], began.
At the training room of the Arfellium pro team, TC NPA.
Whoosh!
The lid of one of the many state-of-the-art VR devices in the training room opened. White steam billowed out.
A moment later, a man emerged from the device.
Splash!
His sweat-drenched bare feet left wet prints on the floor. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and took a deep breath. After a brief rest, light returned to his clouded eyes.
He was handsome.
While calling him celebrity-level might be an exaggeration, he was certainly attractive enough to capture hearts. A strong jawline, distinct features, and clear, direct eyes that were unforgettable.
He sighed softly.
“Ha…”
A towel flew towards him. He caught it without looking, then wiped the sweat dripping from his body. The dry towel quickly became soaked.
Lee Junghyuk, TC NPA’s sub-dealer, who had thrown the towel, looked at him with concern.
“Sangcheol, are you okay?”
Choi Sangcheol, the man, smiled and waved his hand dismissively.
“Huh? I’m fine, I’m fine. I guess I went a little hard during practice.”
“Are you sure? Your nose… You didn’t get a nosebleed, did you?”
Despite Choi Sangcheol’s reassurance, Lee Junghyuk’s worried expression remained. Sangcheol shrugged.
“Hey, that nosebleed was because of the full set in the finals. I’m perfectly fine as long as I don’t push myself that hard consecutively. Don’t worry.”
No way he was fine.
Lee Junghyuk thought grimly.
Even if it was the world finals, a full set at that, it wasn’t normal for someone’s body to be wrecked after playing a game. Lee Junghyuk himself, who had also played the full set in the finals, felt tired, but not physically drained.
The fact that Choi Sangcheol was drenched in sweat was proof enough.
Normal people didn’t sweat this much after a few games in VR, not even professional gamers who exerted immense concentration and mental strength.
This wasn’t normal.
This phenomenon was unique to Choi Sangcheol.
Nobody knew why this happened.
They only speculated that it might be related to his exceptional performance.
…Until recently.
‘99% synchronization rate…’
Lee Junghyuk muttered to himself, sighing.
99% synchronization rate.
That was the result of the recent test requested by Arfellium Corporation HQ. Physical ability, technique, and other factors. A test to measure a user’s skill. It was created to address some hacking controversy, wasn’t it?
Why the test was created wasn’t important.
What mattered was that Choi Sangcheol’s VR synchronization rate was 99%.
‘The average for pro gamers was 67%, wasn’t it?’
A number that overwhelmingly surpassed the average for professional players. Choi Sangcheol was practically the only one with such a high rate. The engineers who came from the US headquarters for the test were baffled.
[Such a high number is abnormal.]
[We assumed the typical synchronization rate would be around 50%, plus or minus 20 at most. Anything higher is unusual and shouldn’t happen.]
[A 99% synchronization rate means he’s performing at 300% of his normal capacity. It’s practically like playing while doped.]
[Is it a problem? Of course! 99% shouldn’t even be possible! It means his mental strength and concentration are being pushed beyond their limits. That’s why he experiences physical abnormalities after exiting VR.]
[This is dangerous.]
Recalling the engineers’ words, Lee Junghyuk looked at Choi Sangcheol with a worried expression.
Having finished drying himself, Choi Sangcheol was taking a banana milk from the training room refrigerator and inserting a straw. Lee Junghyuk watched him and cautiously began, “Hyung, about that…”
“Don’t bother.”
A cold response cut him off.
Lee Junghyuk flinched and looked at Choi Sangcheol with surprise.
Sipping his banana milk, Choi Sangcheol muttered coldly, “You’re going to tell me to rest and prioritize my safety, aren’t you? Or are you suggesting I retire?”
“…”
“Hey, what else can I do besides this? A high school dropout, an orphan with no skills or education. Where else can I earn this much money? And if I retire, I need to earn enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life. A few billion won isn’t enough. It’s not just me, I have my younger siblings. You know that.”
“But…”
Choi Sangcheol sighed and looked at Lee Junghyuk.
“I’ll worry about my own body. And hey! Frankly, what will happen to our team if I’m gone? Who can fill my shoes?”
“…”
“And I do this because I like it. I like VR, I like Arfellium. And I like being a pro gamer.”
Choi Sangcheol grinned.
“And isn’t it cool? A player with twice the synchronization rate of others! How awesome is that? Like a character from a comic book.”
“W-Well, that’s true.”
“Hey, Junghyuk. Did they say they would release our test results? I think my synchronization rate will cause a stir. I’ll probably gain more fans and haters.”
Choi Sangcheol smoothly changed the subject. Lee Junghyuk managed a forced smile.
“…I think they said they would. It was for some streamer who was accused of hacking. That’s why we took the test.”
“Really? I don’t remember. Another hacking controversy? Arfellium doesn’t have hacks, though? How good could she be?”
“Ah, you didn’t see the video?”
Choi Sangcheol shrugged.
“Do I know her? I’ve never seen her.”
“Want to see it? I don’t know about anything else, but her character customization is amazing. Almost celebrity-level.”
Lee Junghyuk picked up a nearby tablet and tapped the screen a few times. His eyes widened.
“Oh, what? She’s doing her explanatory broadcast right now.”
“Oh, really? Perfect. Show me.”
Lee Junghyuk handed him the tablet.
Choi Sangcheol took it and played the broadcast.
His eyes lit up.
“…Oh. Wow. She’s really pretty.”
“See? I told you. I heard rumors that she didn’t even customize her character. Hard to believe, but if it’s true, it’s amazing, right?”
“Wow…That would be incredible.”
Lee Junghyuk looked at the screen and tilted his head.
“Huh? She’s doing the test we took. I’m bored, this is perfect. Want to watch?”
“Sure.”
They placed the tablet on the table and became engrossed in the broadcast. It was hard not to be.
Unlike other streams, Shihyun wasn’t particularly talkative, but she had an incredibly captivating face.
After a short wait, the test they had taken began on screen.
And soon after, Choi Sangcheol’s eyes gleamed as he said, “She’s similar to me.”
“…Similar?”
Lee Junghyuk tilted his head at the unexpected comment, but Choi Sangcheol only offered a subtle smile. Sure, her performance on the test was impressive, but was it comparable to Choi Sangcheol, the world’s number one?
As Lee Junghyuk considered this, Choi Sangcheol said with a hint of amusement in his voice, “I…need to meet her sometime.”
You think this chapter was thrilling? Wait until you read The Returned Saint’s Streaming! Click here to discover the next big twist!
Read : The Returned Saint’s Streaming
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