This is a Shitty Small Company! ~Hope Arc~ (8)
I landed a 30 million won freelance gig. It wasn't from some stranger—a friend I'd known from my business days hooked me up. They needed a management system for a solar panel company. The pay was sweet. Four months of easy money.
I can probably kiss unemployment benefits goodbye.
How many people in the world could pull a full year's salary from Railroad Software in just four months? A smug sense of superiority washed over me, along with a swagger I didn't even know I had.
The guy who'd been discriminated against at that shitty small company turns out to be a genius developer? Not that surprising—I'd freelanced plenty before Railroad Software.
Guess I can make a living no matter what I do.
At first, I was thrilled. But the excitement faded bit by bit.
The work's just not fun.
Working at Railroad Software had been hell, sure. But there was a clear sense of purpose—"working for my dreams"—and I loved Sepiros Online like it was on fire. This job? No love at all. It felt like forcing myself into dev work I hated.
...But hey, money's money, right?
Maybe not. I opened the window. Spring. Big day-night temp swings, flowers about to bloom. Soon, cherry blossoms would blanket everything, making even a stroll around the apartment complex a feast for the eyes.
Still felt stuffy. That's when it hit.
Damn, she's got a knack for hooking you with three lines. Too intriguing to ignore.
I stared at my phone, grinning.
Ah...
My heart pounded. I was dying to know how Railroad Software was holding up today—what was the latest gossip?
I used to hate watching fights. Mom and Dad yelling made me feel like I was dying, and dramatic screaming in TV shows pissed me off.
But now? "Circumstances make the man"—I got it on a gut level.
She's about to grab her by the hair lololol
My focus hit max.
...
A warm spring day—butterflies pollinating flowers, kids running around full of energy. A beautiful spring day.
Han Yu-ra was trapped in the prison-like office in Pangyo, getting reamed by investors.
It was remote, but it stressed her out just fine. Tech progress was a blessing.
The low-level investor droned on.
"Your dev status report's kinda abstract."
"Abstract?"
"Yeah. Who came up with just 'server dev in progress'? What part of the server?"
That's the life of a shitty small company CEO with overfunding. No money to throw around. The ones with cash call the shots.
Han Yu-ra bullshitted.
"The game's in the finishing stages. But we're having issues linking server and client..."
"Pardon? Isn't that basically all a mobile game is? So nothing's developed?"
'Nothing... developed?'
The investor drone's words burned her chest red-hot like her hair. But no cash—what could she do?
"Our new programmer's reviewing the code right now."
"I'm worried. Can you hit the deadline like this, Director Han?"
The venture capital peon, acting like a big shot from a bit of business experience, was just a salaryman. Reporting to him still grated on Han Yu-ra.
She reassured him.
"Yes. We can."
"Alright. If you say so."
"...Oh, and Director. That doc you sent last time? Typos everywhere. You did the month-end properly, right? Numbers don't add up."
Han Yu-ra scowled at Kim A-ram's report. Typos galore, just like he said. Already stressed from Open Beta and Im Seong-u, she felt like dying. Plus, today was her magic day.
No excuses on that point. She bowed her head.
"Ah. Sorry."
"Happens. But typos aside, month-end errors are serious. Gotta report up myself."
Reporting where investor money went was basic and crucial. Slop it up, trust erodes—same as bankruptcy.
(P.S. Kim A-ram wrote it.)
"Won't happen again."
"Game dev's tough, huh? Nail that Open Beta. Got it?"
"Yes..."
Han Yu-ra survived the investor meeting. The spring sky looked yellow anyway.
...
"...A-ram."
"Yes? Director."
Kim A-ram shuffled over with a sulky face. Han Yu-ra tossed the doc at her.
"Docs for investors aren't a joke. Proofread next time. Spell check exists."
Han Yu-ra was anxious, pissed, sorry, a mess. Magic day tummy ache too. But as CEO, no half-day off.
A-ram's face soured more.
"Ah, yeah. Got it."
"..."
"..."
Han Yu-ra wanted to let it slide. But no dice. Humans are emotional machines—tiny errors crash the system, unlike code.
Investor pressure + deadlines = mental drain. Her sharp gaze pierced Kim A-ram.
What was she doing? Watching a new game's trailer. Looked like the idlest person alive.
Sure, research for planning. But today, it screamed slacking to Han Yu-ra.
"A-ram."
Her icy voice echoed; office went silent. Im Su-yeon, giggling on the phone, hung up and pretended to work.
"Come here."
The desk-summoning gesture crushed pride. Kim A-ram dragged over. In this company, Yu-ra was top dog—come when called, go when told.
"Yes?"
"A-ram, write reports properly, please."
"...I said I got it."
"Weren't you watching videos? Typos I can forgive. But month-end wrong? That's serious."
"I'm not here to write reports. I'm a planner."
"No. Are we a big corp? Four employees total."
"That's why I said hire an accountant last time..."
"No budget. A-ram. Ten billion's not pocket change."
Kim A-ram's face twisted ugly. Like she couldn't grasp ten billion was huge. Just like they hadn't gotten Im Seong-u's side.
"..."
Han Yu-ra's head boiled.
If I'd backed Seong-u sooner, this wouldn't be happening.
"No answer?"
"Director. Can't you just make Na-young do it? She's just staring at code all week. Dev's lagging bad."
Na-young shot her a "what the fuck?" glare.
Han Yu-ra was floored. Blaming all dev delays on Na-young?
Bet she treated Seong-u the same.
Regret, guilt, rage, pressure... plus period. Han Yu-ra erupted like a volcano.
Boom!
"A-ram. Honestly, you seem the idlest lately. What'd you do this week?"
"You saying I got nothing to do?"
"Not that, but reports like '[Server dev in progress]', '[Planning doc in progress]' aren't reports."
One thing Han Yu-ra missed: Kim A-ram's magic day was today too.
"Straight talk, A-ram. Your attitude lately doesn't cut it."
"..."
"YouTube during work? Pushing planning docs knowing dev's stalled? Prioritize what I assign?"
Her glare was lethal.
"Game not developing ain't my fault. Na-young's slow—blame the planner?"
Hysterical Kim A-ram.
"She's not slacking on purpose."
"Purpose or not, dev's not happening. Better hire new blood."
"Ha."
Han Yu-ra's patience snapped.
"You opposed hiring."
"No, you actually hired, Director."
Han Yu-ra smoothed her hair coldly. Kim A-ram felt zero tension. That pissed her more.
"A-ram. Attitude's been bugging me."
"..."
"I've told you not to waste hours on lunch."
"Director. It's just smoke breaks."
"And second month-end fuckup."
"Yu-ra. Math ain't my thing."
Finally, college casual speak. She'd hated formal anyway.
Han Yu-ra dropped ranks too.
"Kim A-ram. No talent? Don't work."
They bickered an hour. Shitty small company vibes tanked.
"Company a smoke lounge? You're overdoing it. You weren't like this."
"No work anyway. Programmer ain't coding."
"No work? I'm hounded by investors, running events all day? Then leave."
"..."
Kim A-ram smirked, turned.
"Honestly, no regrets."
Tomorrow they'd have to face each other again. Utter despair.
...
6 PM. Hateful Kim A-ram and the rest had bailed. Just Shin Na-young and Han Yu-ra.
CEO Han Yu-ra rubbed her dry face, scanning the empty office.
Haa... shouldn't have fired him.
Sunset lit her red hair. Dark circles under her eyes.
Why? Im Seong-u mediated staff conflicts. Did it too well, no allies, but still.
...Seong-u. Say something. Wait, he did. Said it was hell.
Blaming him now? She hated herself.
She clutched her hair, head down. Excuse: didn't know programming was that hard. Too much for one person—security, lag, auth, etc.
Should've learned code. Understood Seong-u sooner.
This is my fault.
She owned it. Kim A-ram's change? CEO's fault too. Great planner now slacking far off.
A-ram's personality played in, but primary blame hers.
No answers.
Hire now? Doubt it'd work. 42 days left. Not enough to parse code.
Choked up.
'Almost no dev done?'
'I, I worked so hard.'
Vision blurred with tears. She was CEO, mother of Sepiros Online. Ran a year straight for this—now crumbling on dumb mistakes.
She buried her face in her knees.
"Na-young, head out."
"You okay, Director? Clearly A-ram's fault..."
"Thanks."
Han Yu-ra smiled sadly, sent her off. No tears in her eyes, but Na-young sensed she'd cried.
"Okay..."
Shin Na-young left. Han Yu-ra called Im Seong-u.