Sang-Hyeon finally realized why he felt so hazy. He kept thinking about the past for no reason. In hindsight, it was a bad sign of his condition. Sang-Hyeon struggled to lift his eyelids. As expected, he found himself in a hospital. Ju-Hyeok was sitting next to him while looking at his phone. No one else was around. How much time had passed? Ju-Hyeok’s clothes looked different. Sensing some movement, Ju-Hyeok shot up from his seat. He immediately rushed out to find a nurse. ‘What the heck? Why didn’t he say anything?’ From Sang-Hyeon’s perspective, that reaction seemed a bit much. In Ju-Hyeok’s eyes, Sang-Hyeon hadn’t fully regained consciousness yet. His eyes were only slightly opened, and his body barely moved. "He looks awake! For real this time!" "Haah... Okay. Let me check. Sir, please wait outside for a moment—" The nurse pulled back the curtain. Her eyes met Sang-Hyeon’s. She realized his gaze was following her. "He... he’s really awake? I’ll go get the doctor!" After the nurse hurried off, Ju-Hyeok came closer and wiggled his fingers. "Can you see this? Huh?" Sang-Hyeon wanted to speak, but couldn’t get his mouth to open. A sudden fear gripped him. His body wouldn’t move the way he wanted. Sang-Hyeon didn’t like recalling such a feeling. He instinctively tried moving his right arm first, but that was wishful thinking when he couldn’t even open his mouth. When Sang-Hyeon didn’t respond, Ju-Hyeok grew anxious and pressed him further. "You can’t see? Say something. Speak!" He could see. He just couldn’t speak. Ju-Hyeok waved his fingers again. As soon as Sang-Hyeon saw the gesture, he let out a breath. At last, his mouth moved. "Why are you flipping me off?" Ju-Hyeok’s provocation seemed to work since Sang-Hyeon got his voice back. ‘Was I just sleep paralyzed?’ Maybe it wasn’t the aftermath of fainting. Perhaps it had just been sleep paralysis. "You really could see, huh?" "Yeah. Ahem," Sang-Hyeon cleared his throat. "How does your body feel?" "You collapsed out of nowhere. You’ve been out for about a day." "Yeah. You just suddenly dropped." "Oh, at the awards ceremony..." Sang-Hyeon instinctively touched his head to check for a bump. He remembered staggering onstage and then hearing a loud crash. "You didn’t hit your head." "Oh. That’s a relief." Just then, the doctor walked in and spoke in a rather sarcastic tone, "Oh~ what a relief?" It was Dr. Song Ha-Na. As she leaned in close and raised her voice, Sang-Hyeon looked away. "I told you not to push yourself." He had made it all the way to the finals. He couldn’t just stop there. "Sigh." Dr. Song stepped back with an exasperated expression and asked, "Still, winning felt good, didn’t it?" Yeah, he had won the tournament. It already felt like a distant memory. Moments flashed through his mind like flipping through an old, dusty album. From meeting Chi-Seung to standing on the podium. Sang-Hyeon grinned and nodded. She gave him a dry smile and resumed her scolding. "But you really overdid it. You experienced an overload. You know how a computer shuts down automatically when it overheats? That’s what happened with your brain. If you had hit your head, you could’ve ended up with a concussion. You should thank Sa-Rang." "Yes, I mean Choi Sa-Rang. She caught you when you fell. If it weren’t for her, you probably would’ve hit your head and not be okay right now." So that was what happened. Had Sa-Rang been that close by? It was probably tough for her to reach him in time. "She rushed out and caught you. Looked like she knew it was coming before it even happened," Ju-Hyeok explained. "Yeah. She just dashed forward. It was only for a second or two, but yeah." "I was surprised too. Didn’t know she could still move like that. I mean, sure, it was just for a second or two, but still." Sang-Hyeon instinctively touched his head again. ‘That could’ve ended really badly...’ Did she know in advance that Sang-Hyeon would collapse? "Well. You got your wish and won. So now you must take a full month off from capsule games and focus on recovery. No exceptions." Song Ha-Na slammed her hand on the side table to emphasize her words. "Oh, and! Don’t even dream about going pro! Seriously, if you do, I’m filing a complaint with the association." She threw out a threat, checked his IV, and walked out. According to the nurse, all the necessary precautions had already been taken. He just needed rest. Sang-Hyeon looked up at the ceiling for a moment. The memories of participating in the tournament flickered by like an old film reel. Just yesterday, he had played in the finals... It all felt so far away. ‘It was never supposed to happen anyway.’ Sang-Hyeon had never seriously thought about going pro. He reminded himself of that. The next day, a notice appeared on Almond’s channel. [I’ll be taking a break for a while.] It was an indefinite break, but the fans understood. After all, they all witnessed him collapse during a live broadcast. — Please take care of yourself! — I can’t lose Almond! — Health comes first... — I saw the collapse live—was totally shocked! — You’re okay right, bro? — We waited through the whole tournament, we can wait for you! With Almond’s break and the tournament done, Ju-Hyeok could finally enjoy a rare quiet morning. After waking up, he quickly made himself some coffee and toast before sitting at the table. As usual, he checked the news on his phone. The headlines were flooded with news of Team Joseon’s victory. It would probably stay that way for two or three more days. ["Our ancestors helped us" How Joseon became a powerhouse] [Better than Japan, China, and Rome? Joseon proves it to the world] [President mentions Civil Empire victory] The headlines were eye-catching, but one article caught Ju-Hyeok’s attention more than the rest. [The Shonen Manga-like Rise of Team Joseon] Could there be a more fitting description? Even for Ju-Hyeok, who wasn’t a player, everything felt like a manga. How would it have felt for the actual players? They probably wouldn’t come down from that high for a while. It was okay to live in that glow for a bit. Of course, reality wasn’t so generous. "Ah, yes, hello. Yes, we’ve been on Evening Wide before, but Almond isn’t feeling well at the moment. Yes... I’ll consider it for now." "Yes, hello? Oh... the team from the Knowing Sisters show? Of course it’s possible, but... I’m not sure if you saw the news, Almond’s health right now... Oh, right, yes. You worked with Lil Grass before. She’s a regular now? Well, if you can be flexible with dates..." "Yes, hi. New Quiz—yes, of course I know it. Nice to speak with you. You might already know, but Almond isn’t in good shape right now... Oh, I see. Yes, if you can adjust the timing..." Ju-Hyeok’s phone was blowing up. Every major network wanted a piece of them with trending terms like international victory, national pride, underdog uprising, and miracle going around. The only problem was that the person at the center of it all was still hospitalized. ‘I need to lock these offers down somehow.’ As his manager, Ju-Hyeok wasn’t about to let this golden opportunity slip away. Most of the networks calling already knew Almond was in the hospital. ‘Let’s postpone the A-tier ones and delegate the lower-tier ones.’ He mentally ranked the incoming programs and adjusted his responses accordingly. "Yes, hello. That’s right. But... how about other players? Would you be interested in featuring them?" He offered other cast members to the more desperate, lower-tier programs. Since appearances under the tournament title fell under Ju-Hyeok’s jurisdiction, it still counted as management revenue. "Yes, showcasing new faces would be a good look, right? Of course, the archery squad is all available. Yes. Sa-Rang... probably won’t be available. She’s staying out of the spotlight. Hui-Chul? Yes, he’s the commander-in-chief. That’s right." He expertly redirected the calls that had originally been for Almond and suggested other cast members. It was a tricky request, but... ‘Man, being in a position of power is so much easier!’ Major channels now responded completely differently from before. “Ah, we’ll hold a meeting and get back to you. But... is there any chance Almond might join later on?” “Oh, we understand. That works for us. Yes, yes.” “Hui-Chul is under your management too? That’s great. Yes.” When they first got on Evening Wide, getting offers felt like walking on eggshells. Now, it wasn’t like that anymore. Everyone caught on quickly. Sure, Almond was their ideal guest. However, just using the recent victory gave them a good return. Many channels felt happy to feature any of the players. After ending his last call with a satisfied smile, Ju-Hyeok checked his email. "Thought this was spam." Compared to the calls from broadcasters, the flood of advertisements was on another level. [Hello! We’re the marketing team from a fashion brand...] [Hi! This is Nature Democratic, a beauty brand...] [Greetings. We’re from Grooming God, a matchmaking agency for men in their 30s...] It was enough to host a full-scale marketing expo in his inbox. Some companies had even attached storyboards already. Some included emotional pleas, but Ju-Hyeok figured most of those were fabricated. He shoved more bread into his mouth, thinking this peaceful morning could be his last. Unlike manga, where the final page usually concluded with a simple “The End,”reality didn’t stop after winning the championship. "Why does it feel like I’m not in a shonen manga... but an office drama? Guess it’s because I’m a grown-up now." The shonen story had ended, but the real work was just beginning for the adult Ju-Hyeok. A few days later, Sang-Hyeon was discharged from the hospital. "No capsule games. Seriously." "And come in for weekly check-ups." Although he wasn’t allowed to play capsule games for a month, other activities like exercising were fine. Back home, the first thing Sang-Hyeon did was sit at his computer. ‘As long as I don’t play capsule games, right?’ He had been bored out of his mind lying in bed all day. He immediately set up his stream. He couldn’t do any gaming streams, but a chat stream would be fine. "Yeah. Gonna do a little update and brag about winning MVP." Ju-Hyeok felt momentarily speechless at how casually Sang-Hyeon mentioned bragging like it was part of the job, but he nodded. "Alright, just don’t push yourself. You did just get discharged today." This would be his first personal stream in a long time. As Sang-Hyeon adjusted the settings, it felt like coming home. It was a warm feeling. Treevy always felt like home ever since that night he was sipping beer while watching Bubblegum’s stream. ‘I wonder how many viewers I’ll get?’ This would be his first stream since the International Tournament. He used to peak at 40k viewers before the tournament. Afterward, that number went up to 70–90k during big events. This was his first post-victory stream. It seemed possible. Thinking that, he opened Treevy. He couldn’t believe his eyes. [Notice of Treevy Korea Service Shutdown]