009. Open Beta (Complete)
Sometimes, it felt like I needed moments like this. Time to obsessively reflect on the past.
“...Whew. Calm down.”
Staring into the bathroom mirror, I saw a somewhat unfamiliar man looking back. Had I been living that frantically? I'd started a business, gotten grants, taken on freelance gigs, even served in the military. I had plenty of stories to share over drinks with others. I was happy when the money came in. Depressed when it didn't. But when I tried to remember what had actually happened... the year at Railroad Software stood out the most.
Is this what they call hardship?
It had been painful, sure. Or maybe it was because I'd been so captivated by Han Yu-ra.
I felt a bitter pang. The man in the mirror, who'd been through all those emotions, wasn't crying—no, he was utterly expressionless. It caught me off guard. I'd expected it to show on my face, but there was nothing. Even after riding that emotional wave.
I used to cry easily at sad movies back then.
No tears came. At some point, crying had become embarrassing, and after turning twenty, it was downright exhausting. Even when the urge hit and my tear ducts squeezed tight, my body—trained to know crying won't change a damn thing—refused to break down. I'd just get a little choked up, swallow it back since it wouldn't help anyway, and think, Good, better this way. Especially not in front of others—that'd be mortifying.
Let's go.
As I walked down the hallway, I pondered. What does it mean to become an adult? After all that shit, turning into someone who can't even cry anymore—is that a sign of growth? Or am I just withering away like a dried flower trapped in a vase of resentment?
I didn't know.
Still... doesn't feel bad.
There'd been some melancholy, but it felt like all the pent-up indigestion from years past had finally cleared. My steps were light leaving the restroom.
⋯
What the...?
I'd just stepped out for some air, and the office vibe was off. Unusually quiet. The heavy, sunken atmosphere rubbed me the wrong way, and I frowned.
Is it because Im Su-yeon's gone? Why's it so damn quiet?
It made sense, actually. Only Han Yu-ra, Yoon Se-hee, and Shin Na-young were left. Yu-ra was pretty cold when working, Se-hee broke out in hives around people, and once Na-young started coding, she went silent.
Still, Na-young was the first to greet me.
“Director Seong-u!”
Shin Na-young, barely holding back her casual speech, came bounding over like a hamster, waving her tiny hands and feet. It was adorably cute. I naturally smiled softly and welcomed her.
Na-young chattered nonstop, her cute little mouth going a mile a minute.
“The audit went great. Where'd you go? That auditor guy was looking for you earlier.”
She handed me Lee Seung-cheol's business card.
“Whoa... but seriously, Director, you're insanely good at coding, right? I didn't get all of it, but your skills were so obvious... it was awesome!”
Na-young's bubbly stream filled the air, lifting my mood, but the office still felt dark.
“Haha.”
It felt good. Not better than Lee Seung-cheol's praise, but hearing my childhood friend gush in awe stirred a smug superiority in my chest. Nice, but embarrassing.
The good vibe faded quick, though, when my eyes landed on Im Su-yeon's empty seat.
That bitch Im Su-yeon's slacking off again.
Seeing it pissed me off. People with easy lives always make you wanna knock 'em down a peg. That's how I felt now. But she was such a slippery one, always wriggling out and screwing over her allies—I worried the knife might miss.
But... what's up with Yu-ra?
Right now, Han Yu-ra had my full attention.
She promised me that event!
Yu-ra's omakase with her body. What would it be today? I eyed her with subtle anticipation, but she looked down.
She fiddled with her pen, click-clack, her face a complicated mess.
...Huh? What's going on?
According to Na-young, the audit had gone fine. No hitches, I'd thought. But something happened?
Did it not go well? If I ask now, will I look like I can't read the room?
“President Han.”
“...Yes.”
“Was there any issue with the audit?”
“No...”
She forced a smile in reply. It was so faint, it might scatter in a spring breeze. The audit had succeeded, so why was she feeling this way?
Hmm...
If I demanded her body now, she'd give in. She'd enjoy it too—bodies are always honest. But today, her G-cup breasts looked like sad pouches. Full of bounce and volume, yet... Her lashes drooped like a puppy's wet fur.
She's in a bad mood...?
Yu-ra seemed troubled. Sure, I had a strong libido, but even I wouldn't get horny for a woman in that state. Who'd want funeral-home sex after three days of cold cuts and beef soup? Not me.
So I said,
“President Han. If there's... anything bad going on, tell me everything. Even management stuff.”
“...No, really, nothing's wrong.”
Watching her struggle more as we talked squeezed my chest. I tried deducing why she was hurting.
Her period?
That thought was kinda dumb.
“No bad vibes. Seong-u. Mr. Lee said we might need more programmers—what do you think? I'll go with your opinion.”
Her attitude screamed she'd hire whoever I picked. I tilted my head.
Is she sad about higher payroll costs?
Nah, probably not.
“No, hold off for now. Na-young needs more training first.”
I shot her a subtle look, and suddenly Na-young ducked her head, glaring at me with a flushed face.
For real?
It hadn't been long since I'd deflowered her—why blush? Did she take “training” dirty? No shame toward the Ministry of Education?
Anyway, Na-young pouted and whipped her head away, like she was mad.
Sigh... Na-young, it's programming. Programming.
Whatever.
Let's take it easy today.
Yu-ra might've gotten chewed out and felt uneasy. I'd talk to her later.
⋯
“I'll head out first today.”
“Yes. Good work.”
Han Yu-ra smiled and saw Im Seong-u off. He lingered with a weird expression, like why aren't you leaving with me?
“...Aren't you heading home, President Han?”
“I've got backlog. Go ahead.”
“...Got it.”
Im Seong-u left with a dazed look. Han Yu-ra sent him off and stayed alone in the empty office.
Today... we had that event planned.
Sitting in her president's chair, Yu-ra hugged her knees tight. Her period was coming soon. She knew if he wanted sex, it had to be now.
But she couldn't say it.
I...
She'd spoken easily before. About Im Seong-u's development being simple, like games just popped out.
He's way better than the club programmer.
Early on, his work speed was blazing, and his confident vibe helped.
But she hadn't known. How code builds dependencies that tangle more with every layer. How fixing one feature means wrangling dozens. How, after endless iterations for a full mobile game, it's Jenga—one block out, and the Tower of Pisa topples.
And she'd made one man do it all.
“Haa...”
Yu-ra sighed, gazing out the window. Suit-clad ants hustled below. People who'd seemed carefree as a kid weren't. Even fun had its post-nut clarity; even the relaxed were paddling furiously underwater.
To stay afloat.
Alone in the frozen office, Han Yu-ra thought.
I... sacrificed you.
She loved games more than anyone. Wanted success more than anyone. Those two soul cries from within. Recognizing them, she'd reborn like a phoenix, energy blazing blue flames through her body.
Dream's light.
I worked hard...
Effort was her magic spell granting wishes. Retakes twice. Turned a 7th-grade transcript the world cursed into top 1st in a year. Quit psych meds that triggered anxiety if missed. Dropped from over 70kg to body-profile ready via hellish dieting.
A huge turning point. The overlooked high school potato became the prettiest. The “what'll you be?” girl snagged scholarships at a top uni. Bullied by a hot girl, yet now a startup CEO.
I wanted to succeed.
Loveless life. Craved sweet freshman romance. Rejected— no time.
Unnoticed life. Little sisters idolizing her felt good; wanted to play. Rejected— no time.
Incompetent life. Scout offers everywhere, superiority rush. Rejected— want more success.
People only see what I have.
Bugging profs for contests, cramming game dev into a packed schedule, holding 4.0+ GPA for scholarships—four years. Envy turned respect; jerk seniors muttered, She's got it coming.
That was Han Yu-ra's life.
How did I live like that?
She'd loved them. Secret Illusionary Battles at the PC bang. Warcraft 3 UMS maps from CD keys. Elder Scrolls series. Binding of Isaac, Undertale, Dark Souls, Divinity, Elden Ring, Fallout, Kenshi, Domina, Total War, Postal, D2, Dead Cells, Dwarf Fortress, Worms, Assassin's Creed, God of War, Zelda, Prince of Persia, and more.
Truly loved. They shone light into her misery, let her breathe. She wanted to make ones that did the same.
But that shining life ignored what shadow?
Im Seong-u...
Her life rarely shook like this. Not when her awkward game stream got memed on the medieval games gallery. Not bawling after a three-month project DQ'd for a mistake. Not compromising with Kim A-ram for mobile cash.
Those tears hadn't doused her passion's flame.
But now...
Games are this hard to make.
Fun to play, but blood to someone. Her Sepiros Online flower—once her dream—was Im Seong-u's spilled blood.
Without the man she'd liked, then hated, no dream realized.
So what now? Her success pure luck?
It bred self-loathing.
No... I'm the president. Can't slump like this.
She had responsibilities. If she'd slaved him, make him rich. Fat salary, overtime pay, shares at the end—wield that power.
Or she couldn't look up.
Must repay...
His blood-made game. Investors trusted her with 10 billion won. Lee Seung-cheol too.
She had to own it.
Han Yu-ra bit her lip hard.
Evening. Sun setting in the office.
Open beta success, yet stars faded from Yu-ra's eyes.
She still didn't know her once-shining dream had become her job.