• [CHAPTER 52] A New Beginning

The game of geniuses had come to an end.

It was late at night, and although Dojun didn’t drink, he stayed through the afterparty, seeing it through to the end.

By the time his bus arrived in Seoul, it was early the next morning.

– KaTalk!

The first message he received that morning was from none other than PD Jeon Jong-hyun.

– Dojun, great job. Let’s work together again if we get the chance.

Dojun replied with a thank-you message of his own.

But what he was truly grateful for… was the prize money.

He had expected a delay, but to his surprise, the money had already been deposited.

“Of course, they took out taxes…”

Still, over 200 million won had landed in his account just like that.

Instead of heading home, Dojun went straight to the hospital where his mother was staying.

Knock, knock, knock.

When he opened the door and stepped inside, his mother’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my, Dojun! What brings you here without any notice?”

Though startled by his sudden visit, she welcomed him with a smile.

“No reason, really. I just… missed you.”

That smile was all he needed.

The smile of family.

The reason Dojun kept going.

He spent a long time talking with his mother, just the two of them. Afterward, he met with her attending physician.

“Professor. Please begin full cancer treatment for my mother.”

Up until now, she had only received basic chemotherapy—never a complete course of treatment for recovery.

The reason had always been money.

But thanks to medical advancements, curing cancer was now a matter of finances.

The surgery alone would cost 200 million won.

Without hesitation, Dojun used his prize money to cover the full amount.

“With this, we should be nearly done with the cancer treatment. She’ll need checkups from time to time, but further hospitalization likely won’t be necessary.”

Dojun nodded.

Truthfully, this was the very reason he had wanted to start treatment right away.

Though it meant parting with a huge sum, in the long run, it would eliminate ongoing hospital costs—and most importantly, it meant his mother could finally return home.

Of course, that wasn’t the end.

“But she will need ongoing rehabilitation therapy.”

Rehabilitation.

Medical technology for lower-body paralysis was still developing.

So Dojun asked,

“Professor, honestly… is there any hope?”

“To be honest, with current technology, I can’t say for sure. But if she doesn’t even try rehabilitation, then there’s truly no hope at all.”

Dojun already knew.

If you give up once… it becomes impossible to walk again.

All he could do now was hope for a miracle.

Just as he was about to agree, the professor added,

“There is a way, if you’re truly determined.”

“There is?”

The professor nodded.

“Yes. To put it simply—she could participate in various clinical trials.”

In other words, experimental procedures not yet fully validated by modern medicine.

While many were generally safe, some had side effects—so from Dojun’s perspective, it didn’t seem like the ideal option.

“I can’t say I feel comfortable with that…”

“Understandable. In Korea, clinical trials don’t have the best reputation. But I’m not talking about domestic ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“You guessed it—these are global trials run by world-renowned medical institutions.”

Unlike domestic trials, these came with a key difference.

“They attract people who are truly desperate. Since they’re conducted by prestigious institutions with strong reputations, their success rates and treatment outcomes are often better.”

“Then I’d really like my mother to take part.”

“There’s just one catch—it costs a lot of money.”

“Ah…”

“Not only that, but you’ll need to constantly research opportunities yourself. Most trials don’t require payment to participate, but some institutions do. The fees can range from tens of millions to several hundred million won. In fact, many ultra-wealthy people suffering from incurable illnesses seek out these trials.”

Once again, it all came down to money.

Between flight costs, living expenses abroad during the trial, and participation fees, it was a huge investment.

Even if the treatment showed no results, the money wouldn’t be refunded.

It was, quite literally, throwing money at a chance.

But Dojun had no choice.

Because his dream was for his mother to walk again.

“I’ll do it.”

Normally, the professor would have tried to dissuade someone. But not this time.

He knew what kind of life Dojun had lived—working part-time jobs from a young age to help pay his mother’s medical bills.

Both the caregiver and the patient had refused to give up.

“If even the patient hasn’t given up, how can I, as her doctor, do so?”

Having watched them all this time, the professor also wanted to keep hope alive.

And deep down, he genuinely wished for her full recovery.

“I’ll send you the details by email. Honestly, this isn’t just about having money. You’ll have to keep researching and taking initiative yourself.”

“Understood.”

With that, Dojun paid the hospital bill and prepared to head home.

Just then—

“Dojun?”

“Dad?”

At the hospital entrance, he ran into his father, Kim Soo-chul.

They sat down in the lobby, and Dojun told him everything.

“…I see.”

When he heard that Dojun had paid 200 million won, Soo-chul became overwhelmed and quietly wiped away tears.

“Thank you, Dojun. You did what I couldn’t…”

But Dojun wasn’t moved—at least, not yet.

“Dad, now’s not the time to get emotional. We still have to pay off our debts and get Mom walking again. We’ve got a long way to go.”

At those words, Soo-chul nodded firmly.

“You’re right. For our family to live in peace, we need to clear our debt first.”

Currently, they owed 300 million won.

It was a lot—but now that Mom’s treatment no longer required ongoing payment, it was manageable.

“There’s one more thing I wanted to say.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m going to university.”

Soo-chul couldn’t answer for a moment.

He’s been worrying about that?

Of course he should go.

Dojun was ranked number one in the country and had a full scholarship guaranteed.

But university involved more than just tuition—there were plenty of additional expenses, and none of them were small.

Still, that didn’t justify Dojun needing to hesitate.

He really considered giving that up…?

Soo-chul’s heart ached.

He was angry—at himself—for putting his son in a position to even think such thoughts.

“It’s the right thing to do. Don’t second-guess yourself.”

“I’m sending Ji-yeon to school, too. I’ll cover her tuition myself.”

Though not yet an adult, Dojun had grown far beyond his years.

To Soo-chul, he looked like someone he could proudly show the world.

I may not have given them much, but… I raised them right.

In that moment, he felt renewed strength, thanks to his son and daughter, who had stayed kind and upright despite their difficult circumstances.

“Alright. I’ll do my part too.”

With that, the two shared a quiet, determined moment.

Soo-chul headed off to visit his wife, while Dojun grabbed some groceries and made his way home.

Back at home, Dojun used the groceries to cook up a few dishes. Since he’d earned some money, he even bought some meat for the first time in a while.

He laid out a simple meal so his sister could eat when she got home.

Then, he sat down at his computer to check what had happened while he was away.

His inbox was flooded with emails.

Most of them were collaboration offers.

Some even came from top-tier streamers Dojun recognized.

“Even VirtuKing messaged me…”

He wasn’t sure what to do.

This would be his first stream since Lost Land ended.

Whatever audience he retained after tonight’s stream would be a clear indicator of where he stood now.

He had already posted a notice earlier that morning about his return.

“I do need a collab…”

Dojun was well aware that he still lacked influence—especially outside of Lost Land.

It would be hard to grow on his own right now.

A little help from someone with a platform would go a long way.

Which is why he seriously considered VirtuKing’s offer.

“It hasn’t been that long since we last streamed together…”

The effect would surely be strong.

There was nothing wrong with collaborating again.

But he didn’t want to fall into the same dynamic as before.

Back then, he’d carried the stream.

It wasn’t a bad look—he made a strong impression.

But—

“Collabs should be about synergy.”

If it kept looking like a solo stream, it defeated the point.

Still, Dojun clicked on VirtuKing’s message and read through it.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“As expected of a top-tier streamer.”

VirtuKing clearly understood Dojun’s current situation and had crafted the perfect collaboration proposal.

There was no need to think twice.

There was no one better.

VirtuKing was one of the biggest names on SwitchTV, and building goodwill with his audience could only help.

Dojun accepted the offer.

Just like before, the reply came instantly.

– Let’s go at 9.

Simple. Perfect.

That was Dojun’s regular streaming time anyway.

His comeback stream.

“Let’s make it count, Kim Dojun.”

He gave himself a little pep talk.

Starting over—right from the beginning.

“Buh-hi~! Welcome, everyone.”

As always, VirtuKing began his stream right on schedule.

And right on time, his viewers showed up—ten thousand of them.

• Buh-hi~

• Reporting for duty~

• As expected, he’s always on time. Probably kills it at office life too.
  ┗ Bro, top performers arrive 30 minutes early.
  ┗┗ Facts 😂

• What’s today’s stream?

• Said he had a content planning meeting.

Longtime viewers knew everything about their favorite streamer’s schedule.

They tuned in to see what he had prepared—and he always had to live up to their expectations.

That was the basic duty of a well-established streamer.

But there were always surprises.

“Actually, today’s schedule changed, folks.”

• ???

• Out of nowhere??

• Something big’s coming, huh?

“I’ve kept quiet about the whole SwitchTV collusion scandal until now.”

The mood suddenly shifted. Viewers tensed up.

• Bro, why so serious…

• Is a storm coming?

• We’ve been waiting to hear from you.

• Nah man, we’re sorry. Let’s just pretend nothing happened.

“First off, let me be clear—I had nothing to do with it. The two people involved weren’t under my team.”

• Phew

• You scared the crap out of me

• So it’s not a scandal bomb? Boo

• One like = one moment of silence for missing that ‘VIP treatment’ 😂

VirtuKing made a clean cut from the rumors, and the chat relaxed, turning playful again.

“Anyway, I stayed silent because I believed the person at the center of it should speak for themselves.”

• Wait… you don’t mean…

• PT? PT? PT?

• Yeah! We’ve been waiting for him to show up!

• P! T! Phantom!

Clearly, the viewers already knew who he meant.

“Seems like you’ve all figured it out. Let’s bring him on—Phantom, welcome!”

With that, Dojun joined the voice call.

“Hello, everyone. Good to see you again. The man at the center of the SwitchTV storm—Phantom here.”

• LOL

• A category 5 hurricane

• The one and only!

• Big ups to VirtuKing for the A-list guest
  ┗ Fr—he kidnapped the comeback king 😂

They kicked things off with light banter and gradually shifted into discussing the scandal.

“To be honest, a viewer tipped me off when the scandal broke. They thought there was collusion between GuideDoctor and SwitchTV.”

“No way! How’d the viewer know?”

“They said every time their favorite streamer got banned, GuideDoctor was doing the same content.”

“Yikes… viewers are scary smart. Guess I better watch my own back!”

• We know all your dirt, bro

• Wanna spam his board for old times’ sake?

• Let’s gooo!!

“Guys, stop. I get it. I’m sorry, okay?!”

They bantered back and forth with chat, keeping the mood light.

Eventually, the scandal discussion wrapped up.

And now, the moment Dojun had really been waiting for arrived.

“Feels like a waste to end here. Wanna play a round together?”

“Sure. Sounds good to me.”

“Survival Ground.”

Survival Ground.

An FPS game that had held the top spot for years.

The perfect new game for Dojun to dive into—starting today.