Mega Hit
The morning subway commute.
It was the same sardine-can crush as always, but my mood felt like I was walking on clouds.
Today's the day.
Monetization day.
At noon, my novel The Regressed Hunter is Merciless would officially switch to paid service.
I unlocked my phone.
Insane numbers.
The communities were still locked in heated debate over conversion rates, but I had already graduated past the stage of punching numbers into a calculator.
Even if some natural disaster hits and only ten percent pay…
A minimum of ten million won a month.
That was locked-in income.
But looking at my retention rates and the comment reactions, calling it ten percent was basically an insult to my readers.
And then there was cross-platform distribution, webtoon adaptation, print volumes…
The more pipelines I opened, the more the revenue would climb exponentially.
My shoulders bounced of their own accord.
I arrived at the office and sat down at my desk.
I powered on the monitor, but instead of opening the work folder, I clicked the one tucked in the corner of the desktop.
> 100_Chapters_Complete.txt
It was reassuring.
I had already finished writing through chapter one hundred.
It felt like marching onto a battlefield with a hundred nuclear warheads stockpiled behind me.
Out of habit, I opened the drafting document.
Today's work?
A competitor analysis report?
"Muse, let's knock this out in ten minutes."
Grinning ear to ear, I started hammering the keyboard.
Honestly, I was having too much fun right now.
Before, these had been things I forced myself through just to survive, just to cover the credit card bills. Not anymore.
I had become both the author of the novel that was my life, and its most passionate reader.
The process of imagination in my head converting into real-world wealth and renown.
Savoring that rush, I tore through the morning's work in no time at all.
Before I knew it, lunch had passed and it was three in the afternoon.
The office atmosphere had grown strangely restless.
Voices of colleagues drifted over from the break room.
"Ugh, Managing Director Choi's hysteria has been next-level lately, hasn't it?"
"Don't even start. He can't touch Assistant Manager Kang anymore without getting nothing for his trouble, so he's just going after Manager Park instead."
"I know, right? After everything Manager Park has contributed to this company… it's seriously too much."
"Did you hear him making comparisons with Assistant Manager Kang? 'Be half as good as Kang,' he says. I was embarrassed just listening to it."
"Tsk tsk. All that time he spent grinding people down telling them to listen to him, and now that Assistant Manager Kang's results are good, look at him flip the script."
My hands stopped.
The gaze fixed on my monitor cooled to something sharp and still.
Going after Manager Park?
Hyung.
Manager Park Do-hun.
The man who had brought me into this company, the benefactor who had even put up my security deposit when I was at my lowest.
And now, the number-one fan of my novel and my most reliable ally.
That hyung was being compared and torn down because of me.
Simply because he was a family man, because having a kid meant he couldn't just quit — that was the weakness they were exploiting.
"Ha…"
A short sigh escaped me.
It wasn't just unpleasant.
It was disgusting.
That low, petty method of tearing down subordinates and sowing discord between them just to hide your own incompetence.
I had no reason to put up with it anymore.
First things first.
I twisted my lips into a smile.
Somebody ought to show that bastard just how thoroughly he's running this company into the ground. Might as well be me.
Scrape.
I shoved my chair back hard and stood up.
At the same moment.
Park Do-hun had his head bowed low.
"Hey, Manager Park. What the hell is wrong with the way you've been working lately?"
Managing Director Choi slammed a stack of documents onto the desk and barked.
"What is this report quality? Have you even looked at what Assistant Manager Kang writes? You're a manager and you spend all day sweating over this garbage?"
"I'm sorry, sir. But this data is…"
"Don't make excuses!"
Managing Director Choi jabbed a finger at him.
"You getting cocky because you've got Assistant Manager Kang backing you? Just because he's doing well, you think you're somebody now?"
"…"
Park Do-hun bit down hard on his lip.
Managing Director Choi's hysteria had hit its peak.
Probably because he was scared.
The overwhelming performance Kang Minjun kept delivering. The anxiety of not being able to control it.
So he was taking it out on the easiest target — him.
Endure it. I have to endure it.
He pictured his wife's face at home, and the face of his newborn daughter.
Diaper costs, formula costs, loan interest.
Without even this mid-tier company, daily life would collapse overnight.
This place was expert at seizing a person's weak points and shaking them.
"You've got a kid, don't you? If you're the breadwinner, then crawl like a breadwinner. What's the point of all that pride? You get fired like this and your family starves — that what you want?"
He had crossed the line.
Park Do-hun's fists trembled.
Family was the one thing he should never have touched.
But he had to swallow the curses rising all the way to his throat.
Because he was the breadwinner.
"Be half as good as Assistant Manager Kang. Huh? Look how much he's grown under my direction lately. You don't even listen to a word I say, so of course you end up like this."
That was when it happened.
Bang.
The door to the managing director's office flew open without a knock.
"Huh?"
Park Do-hun turned around with startled eyes.
It was Kang Minjun.
But those weren't his usual gentle eyes.
"What? Assistant Manager Kang? Barging in without knocking, where do you think—"
Managing Director Choi scowled.
Kang Minjun strode in without so much as a reply.
And he took his place beside Park Do-hun.
"What's your problem? Get out. Can't you see I'm educating Manager Park right now?"
Even under Managing Director Choi's bellow, Kang Minjun just snorted a laugh.
Then he opened his mouth.
"Managing Director."
"What."
"No."
Kang Minjun's eyes went cold.
Silence.
The air in the managing director's office froze solid in an instant.
Park Do-hun doubted his own ears.
What had Minjun just said? Informal speech?
"You— you…. Right now…."
Managing Director Choi's face flushed red, then pale. He was so flustered he couldn't even form proper words.
"Have you— have you lost your mind?! Talking to your superior like—!"
Thwack.
Kang Minjun pulled a white envelope from his jacket and tossed it onto the desk.
The envelope slid smoothly across and settled right in front of Managing Director Choi's nameplate.
"Go ahead. Run this place with that brilliant talent of yours."
"…"
Managing Director Choi's jaw dropped.
He looked back and forth between the resignation letter and Kang Minjun's face, struggling to process the situation.
No way.
No way Kang Minjun was quitting?
The guy currently carrying more than half this department's performance?
The sound of him gulping was nakedly audible.
Managing Director Choi's pupils shook.
If Kang Minjun walked out of here, the fallout would land entirely on him. The thought of getting chewed out by the president — his own father — already had cold sweat running down his back.
"You— you think carefully about this."
Managing Director Choi forced his voice lower. It was meant as a threat.
"Don't do something you'll regret just because you're pissed off. You walk out like this, you think you'll ever set foot in this industry again? One phone call from me and burying you is nothing."
"…"
"Getting a little praise lately and you think you're somebody? Don't delude yourself. That was all because I directed you well. It wasn't your skill!"
Kang Minjun clicked his tongue as if he pitied him.
"You sure do love the sound of your own voice."
"What?!"
"Just process it. If you refuse to accept the resignation and drag this out? I go straight to the Ministry of Labor."
Kang Minjun held up his phone.
"You know full well. Three years since I joined, overtime like it was a daily meal, and you never paid the proper allowances. Commute logs, work-order chats, audio recordings — I've got it all organized."
"…"
"Oh, and everything you just screamed at Manager Park is included too. The Workplace Harassment Prevention Act has some real teeth these days."
Managing Director Choi's face went white.
There was nothing he could refute.
Because it was all fact.
The way this company operated sat right on the line between illegal and underhanded. Touch that, and the one who blew up wouldn't be Kang Minjun — it would be him.
Park Do-hun watched the scene from the side and let out a bitter smile.
My little brother…. You've really grown up.
It felt good.
Like a ten-year blockage in his chest was finally clearing.
His little brother was doing the thing he himself never could.
He was worried, and at the same time so vindicated he could barely stand it.
"Get out! Both of you, get out right now!"
In the end, Managing Director Choi shrieked.
"You think resignation procedures are that easy!? Storming in without a handover — what kind of unprofessional attitude is this! I'll call you back tomorrow, so get out of my sight!"
It was a loser's scream.
Kang Minjun shrugged, then grabbed the wrist of the man still standing there in a daze.
"Let's go, hyung."
We went up to the rooftop.
The afternoon sunlight was blinding.
Park Do-hun pulled out a cigarette with trembling hands and put it between his lips.
Hiss.
Acrid smoke sank deep into his lungs, then scattered into the open air.
"Hoo…"
His legs gave out and he sank against the railing.
"Hyung, didn't you quit smoking?"
Minjun snickered beside him.
"You just saw that. Guy threatens me not to quit — what am I supposed to do?"
Steadying his shaking fingertips, he looked up at Minjun.
"Did it… work out?"
There was no subject, but Minjun understood.
"Looks like it."
"Congratulations."
He meant it.
In this hellhole, at least his little brother had managed to escape. That was a relief.
"Just don't forget I was your number-one fan. Sign me a page later."
"What are you talking about."
Minjun's face went serious.
"Why would you be my number-one fan?"
"Oh-ho. Already the great author, is that it? Real way to make a guy feel unappreciated."
He snorted a laugh, and Minjun grabbed his shoulder with a solemn expression.
"Hyung, you're going to be the CEO of my corporation."
"…What?"
He nearly dropped the cigarette.
CEO of a corporation?
Him?
"What kind of nonsense is that. A corporation?"
"When I signed with the management agency, I put a condition in. That I'd set up a personal corporation and receive settlements through it. Tax reasons, among other things."
Minjun pulled his phone from his pocket.
"I want you to take that corporation. I'll make sure your salary is at least what you're getting now. If things go even better, I'll take care of you more — you know I will."
"Hey, you…"
"Around noon, right before monetization, I checked and the latest chapter views had already passed forty thousand."
"Th-that's a lot, yeah…"
Forty thousand people.
For free serialization views, that was an enormous number.
But.
Wait a second.
"Right before monetization?"
He checked his wristwatch.
Three-twenty in the afternoon.
"Then what about now?"
"It should be paid by now."
Gulp.
His eyes and Minjun's met in midair at the same time.
"Let's check together."
Minjun opened the Munpia app.
His heart started pounding like mad.
More than getting fired from the company, this moment was more nerve-wracking.
The loading screen passed.
The library screen came up.
"…"
"…"
Silence.
Only the sound of wind on the rooftop.
A long while later, he asked in a trembling voice.
"Monetization…. It hasn't gone through yet, has it?"
"I mean…?"
Minjun rubbed his eyes like he couldn't believe it either.
"The label says paid, though?"
"No, the latest chapter went up only three hours ago… and eleven thousand people have already read it?"
It was an insane figure.
A ten percent conversion rate? Twenty?
No.
Relative to the previous free chapter's views, it meant more than thirty percent of readers had paid within three hours.
Factoring in that views usually exploded after six in the evening, once people got off work…
Before the day was even over, the conversion rate looked set to hit fifty percent — or higher.
A hundred won per chapter.
Ten thousand people meant a million won.
A million won earned in three hours.
No — he'd uploaded five chapters, right? So five million?
Plus earlier chapters that had flipped to paid as well.
Of course, the management CEO had said final settlement would land around sixty or seventy percent.
But even on a rough calculation right now, it was already over three million won…?
How much money had Managing Director Choi made in the three hours he'd spent grinding him down?
Hourly rate, maybe thirty thousand won if he was lucky.
And in three hours, his little brother had earned roughly that man's entire monthly salary.
A stretch of silence.
"Hey…"
"Yeah."
"Even half…. feels like we lowballed it."
"Right…?"
Minjun nodded with a dazed expression.
There was no denying it.
Even the word "mega hit" wasn't enough for this.
A super mega hit.
Really.
This was the kind of scale that warranted running a corporation.
"How many chapters do you have stockpiled?"
"A hundred…"
"And how many do you write a day?"
"Fifteen on workdays. More than that on weekends."
"…"
Wait… what?