007. Opportunity (2)
Afternoon spent coding sporadically while glancing at YouTube videos now and then. My life was leisurely.
Slurp. I even sipped a late Americano, let out a yawn, curated a playlist of my favorite tunes, and killed time that way. Im Su-yeon shot me occasional glances, but there was no one in this company bold enough to challenge me right now.
Is this the dream job?
Railroad Software, that pathetic little startup. In truth, wasn't it a dream workplace with better work-life balance than even Google?
Of course, from the company's perspective, my idleness was a loss. D-DAY 16. Everyone was sweating over the open beta, hustling away. Normally, this should've been the busiest time, but I didn't feel any urgency.
Development's always like that.
The truth was, there was nothing a developer couldn't build. Given the right budget, manpower, and time, we could create anything that exists—or doesn't. Flip that around, though: couldn't you say that if planners cut the dev workload, you'd save on budget, manpower, and time?
That was the loophole I was exploiting. I'd already negotiated with Han Yu-ra to scrap 30% of the dev load for the launch, so here I was, lounging like a king.
Bug fixes and service simulations were essential, sure... but whatever, not my problem. Rushing a business never ends well—that was my philosophy as an employee pocketing a salary for minimal effort.
You all tormented me.
Besides, I'd pulled all-nighters for a year at Railroad Software. Didn't that earn me some payback?
Bzzz.
That's when it happened. Right in the middle of my "work," a text from Han Yu-ra popped up.
Oh, right—the event.
The Gwanggyo Mobile Game Festival was held in Gwanggyo. Nothing major, just setting up a few monitors at their provided booth, handing out pamphlets. Attendees were core gamers and industry folks from game companies. Per Han Yu-ra, investors might show too.
But... would investors actually bother?
Doubtful. If I were an investor, I'd send a polite excuse: "Sorry, something came up with my schedule. Please check the remote pamphlet and demo footage." Then kick back with some honey.
Ah... fuck. Gwanggyo? When am I supposed to go?
Han Yu-ra had a point as CEO—I was the director, after all. But I didn't wanna go. It was only 30 minutes from the office, but round trip to home would take at least an hour. Plus, booth duty didn't suit me. Smiling politely at strangers, killing time, swapping business cards? Torture.
Wanna bail.
Luckily, Han Yu-ra knew squat about development.
Directly contradicting the CEO. But developers were a special breed—this shit happened sometimes. (Though these programmers embarrassed the rest of us.) Expertise was a massive edge in negotiations. We always had excuses: "Not enough time." "Not enough budget." "Not my call on that." "Big corps take X months for this tech." "Security issue." "Na-young handling access would be more efficient than me."
Developers weren't always saints, and I had plenty of grudges against Han Yu-ra.
Kim A-ram was just too damn lazy.
In a proper shithole startup, planners changed water jugs, prepped events, handled accounting, hung banners, cleaned, brewed coffee, bought snacks, set up signs—everything.
Suddenly pissing me off.
Im Su-yeon and Kim A-ram had mindsets that'd make your head spin.
Rage boiled in my chest. That fury morphed into slothful desire to loot the company's payroll.
Thankfully, Han Yu-ra didn't nag and switched to private chat. She was open to talk.
A twinge of guilt, but hating the event, I fabricated a bug on the spot.
Infinite SSS-rank duplication bug? I could feel Yu-ra shuddering from here. Overblown fear cows non-experts. She caved.
That was the limit of a clueless CEO. Non-experts can't gauge client-side issues or fix times. No trusted experts on high? Company tanks fast.
Yu-ra... seriously. You hired right.
Even if I was looting salary today, I loved Sepiros Online.
I'll work hard tomorrow. For real.
Hmm...
Han Yu-ra hired Shin Na-young as a "programmer." But why push Kim A-ram as my assistant?
She's a total bitch, but... A-ram's talent outshines Na-young's.
Did the CEO see that deep? Or checking me? Paranoia.
I gave a reasonable excuse.
I replied and stood. Negotiating as a dev? Easy against laymen.
First pick: Kim A-ram.
"A-ram."
"...Yes."
She replied, utterly depressed. I told her, "Take Se-hee and Su-yeon to the Gwanggyo event."
"I... um... er..."
"Deadline's backed up..."
Oh, I got it. Total empathy. Kim A-ram was a "programmer" now—buried in tasks, deadlines piling up. Imagine busting ass, then getting dumped with irrelevant bullshit. Fucking infuriating.
But Amazing Kim A-ram had karma.
Words she spat at me...
"You're a developer, right? Always excuses—how am I supposed to plan?"
"Meeting deadlines is dev skill, no? Pulling all-nighters cuz you can't? Real pro?"
"Seong-u, what's so hard about swapping the water jug? Five minutes! Skip coding for that?"
Ugh! Gaaah!
"Seong-u, can't code on laptop during business trip? Pfft!"
Astonishing—from someone with top 2-3% college entrance exam scores via mandatory ed. No wonder public education's trashed.
I shook my head. ...Gotta calm the rage.
Volcanic fury uncontainable. Wanted to torch the place, but no fire insurance. Restrained.
Kim A-ram...
Dared defy me after her sins? No rank for that.
"A-ram."
"..."
"Can't dev if you pop to Gwanggyo quick?"
What goes around comes around. Good words beget good; bad beget bad. So swallow one bad, give two good? Win-win, like next-door Gold Sun NTRing happily.
Jesus turned the other cheek; I ain't him. Never even church on weekends.
I didn't forgive—mirrored it back.
"Code at the event, A-ram."
"...Ugh."
"Why? Got your laptop—can't code there?"
Kim A-ram trembled like a poorly made puppet. I added advice.
"Hit record the second you enter. No company-bashing. Got it? I'll listen to ten hours of that file."
"...Hic."
"Fuck up, I'll sue. Do well."
Threat laid. She'd nuked servers when power slipped. No guarantee at event.
She nodded like an idiot, submissive. Took Yoon Se-hee and Im Su-yeon, shuffled out defeated.
"Event till 5 PM in Gwanggyo, straight home."
I added, "A-ram can OT if she wants."
"Hiiik!"
Done. Emptied office. Used to feel lonely when staff left first; now? Pure liberation.
Perfect.
Reason for just me and Shin Na-young: deliberate.
"Na-young."
"...Y-yeah?"
Her face flushed beet red for some reason. Quiet today, but peak bubbly Na-young vibes.
Han Yu-ra's meetings till 6, then home.
What did that mean? Prime opportunity.
"Let's clock out."
"Wh-what?!"
Salary looting had five levels. 1: Zoning out mid-task. 2: "Researching" unknowns on YouTube for self-improvement. 3: Stretching lunch, chain-smoking breaks. 4: "Training junior" excuse to dip for dates. Ultimate 5: Total ignore, bail.
What a scumbag.
But why not? Fishmongering wives already—looting salary's fine, right?
"Deaf? We're clocking out at lunch."
Han Yu-ra popping back to Pangyo? Unlikely. Shin Na-young paled.
"B-but if Han shows mid-day... or Gwanggyo crew returns?"
"Sigh..." I stared straight. "I'll handle it."
...
Love goggles. Unconditional bias for the beloved. Say their hair's greasy—obviously stinks, unkempt, gross. But through goggles? "Wow, lives free. Messy hair's cute." Cognitive dissonance.
Applies everywhere. Bad grades? "So creative, language bombed to 7th tier... cool." Punches drunk? "My man's alpha beast..."
Shin Na-young had it bad.
Im Seong-u...!
Like the company king? She'd pulled sly moves at the hospital—overloading tasks, sneaking TOEIC vocab sans permission.
But never straight-up ignored company work like him.
"Na-young-ah."
"Yeah?"
"We're not slacking. Need ideas for coding—heading out for research. Got it?"
"Total thug..."
Na-young grinned mischievously. Eyes narrowed seductively, gazing adoringly. Blush doubled the impact.
Seong-u looked embarrassed, averted eyes.
You can't ignore me either, huh? Damn, you're hot. Know that?
How skilled to act that cocky? Sly moves ain't for amateurs. Predict company patterns, staff behaviors—or get caught.
To her, he was pro. Blood raced, body heated.
Childhood friend was "talented"; now witnessing authority, expertise, power up close? Dizzying haze.
Then he said, "I'll walk you home today."
"What?"
"Subway?"
N-not a date?
His earnest eyes hit. Pure kindness. She bit her lip, guilty.
Courage...
Time to muster it.
"Hm. Lunch first?"
"Y-yeah."
We'll date. No matter what.
Shin Na-young schemed excuses.