Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Cash Cow Ranch
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I carefully accepted Choi Yang's signed paper while trembling with excitement and slipped it into the inner pocket of my jacket.
In the now deathly quiet office, where even the rustling of the paper folding was audible, I let a subtle, satisfied smile creep across my face.
"Alright, that's enough of the fan signing session."
I clapped my hands sharply to liven up the atmosphere, and only then did the developers' dazed gazes shift from Choi Yang back to me.
Like people snapping out of a trance, their eyes slowly came into focus.
Their greasy hair was dusted with white flakes of dandruff that looked like it hadn't been washed in days, and deep dark circles carved hollows under their eyes from lack of sleep.
Their T-shirts were smeared with chicken sauce and cola stains like some kind of map, and their jeans were faded to the point where you couldn't tell when they'd last been washed.
The perfect "developer trio starter pack."
And yet, their eyes still sparkled with undying fire.
Like the gaze of a gamer who refuses to quit even in the final dungeon, it was the look of someone clinging to hope in a hopeless situation.
'Yeah, those sparkling eyes. I like 'em.'
I sat down on the creaky chair they'd pulled out for me, crossing my legs.
The old chair let out a piercing screeech, but I ignored it and leaned back deeply into the backrest.
Then, I transformed into the face of the most professional investor.
Like flipping a switch, my expression turned cold and sharp in an instant.
The only sounds in the office were the hum of the air conditioner and the faint tapping of someone's keyboard.
The fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered, and the smell of city smog seeped in through the window from downtown Seoul.
"First off, I watched the demo video you uploaded."
"Ah... yes!"
All three of them craned their necks forward and replied in unison.
Their voices were an even mix of anticipation and anxiety.
Like students right before getting their report cards, their shoulders were rigid with tension.
"Let me be straight with you."
I paused for a beat.
The longer the silence stretched, the more their tension built.
Glasses Guy's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, Curly Hair started unconsciously biting his nails, and the youngest, whose hairline was already receding, was sweating bullets into his palms.
"Graphics are crap, bugs everywhere, optimization's dogshit, UI looks like a '90s personal homepage, sound's worse than an 8-bit game, and the tutorial might as well not exist."
As the fact bomb dropped, the three men's faces froze solid.
Glasses Guy was so flustered that his lenses fogged up white, Curly Hair gaped at me blankly, and the youngest looked on the verge of tears, biting his lip.
The air in the office turned ice-cold in an instant.
The AC seemed even louder, and the fluorescent buzz grated more than ever.
Choi Yang shook her head beside me with a look that said, 'This guy's at it again,' letting out a sigh that echoed softly in the quiet room.
But I was already gearing up for the classic snake oil salesman's basic skill, following my calculated script.
I softened my expression a bit and raised my voice an octave.
"But!"
I wagged my index finger slowly, capturing their gazes.
Their heads swiveled in unison to follow my finger like puppets on strings.
In that split second as despair flipped to hope, their eyes shifted subtly.
"Amid all that garbage, I saw it."
I deliberately cut off and stared at them.
Dramatic pause. The room was so quiet I could hear their breathing.
"A brutally addictive core fun factor that hooks you once you get a taste—you can't tear yourself away. This is the real deal. A massive hit."
'Of course, you'd never get it out to the world on your own steam. Heh.'
At my praise, color returned to their ashen faces.
Like wilted plants getting watered, their expressions brightened gradually.
Glasses Guy took off his specs to meticulously wipe the fog from the lenses, Curly Hair clenched his fists in silent cheers, and the youngest was misty-eyed with emotion.
I seized the perfect moment to mix in the sweetest poison.
Softening my voice even more, I looked at them like a caring big brother.
"Blue Sky Investment is a company that invests exactly in that 'potential.'"
I placed my business card on the desk with a crisp thud.
The 18K gold-plated card gleamed dazzlingly under the fluorescent light.
Total showmanship, but impact is what matters.
All three sets of eyes locked onto the shiny card.
"With our funding and your passion and skills combined..."
I slowly clasped my hands together, adopting a reverent, prayer-like expression.
"I'm certain it'll create tremendous synergy. Really."
'Partners my ass. From now on, you're all pretty little slaves running on my dime. Heh.'
"R-Really?! You're really going to invest in us?!"
Glasses Guy shot to his feet, his voice quivering on the edge of tears.
The last syllable nearly broke.
His eyes were like a man spotting an oasis in the desert—or pulling a legendary item in a game.
"So our salaries will actually be decent? We've been scraping by on pocket change..."
Curly Hair asked cautiously, but desperately, his hands still shaking.
"And can we improve our work setup? Our computers are so slow right now..."
"Of course. Salaries generous, all gear swapped for the latest models."
"Real food, not just ramen? Steak too?"
The youngest asked in a trembling voice, like he was dreaming.
Tears actually welled up in his eyes.
I flashed my most benevolent smile, ready to drive the final nail into their hearts.
Warming my voice even more, I spoke tenderly, like a father to his kids.
"Naturally. Chicken delivery every day, frequent team dinners. We'll be your solid 'partners.'"
Suddenly, the three exchanged glances and shot up, bowing deeply at 90 degrees to me.
Their bows were so profound their heads nearly hit the desk.
"Thank you! Truly, thank you! We'll never forget this grace our whole lives!"
I watched them bow at 90 degrees with deep satisfaction.
Their heads came so close to the floor that hair brushed it, and Glasses Guy's specs nearly clattered down.
They looked like devotees praying to a god.
I slowly raised a hand to stop them.
"Whoa, whoa, get up. We haven't even started yet—can't be doing this already."
They exchanged looks and cautiously sat back down.
The chairs creaked, heightening the tension.
I waited until they were settled, then got to the point.
"Alright, let's talk specifics on the investment plan."
I extended one finger slowly.
Like a magician revealing a card, with dramatic flair.
"No more, no less—exactly 100 billion. That's my investment."
The room's air froze solid.
Silence so thick it felt like the AC had stopped.
"...P-Pardon? A hundred b-billion?!"
Glasses Guy CEO's jaw dropped.
His glasses slipped down his nose, but he didn't notice.
Curly Hair dropped the pen from his mouth, and the youngest stared blankly, forgetting to blink.
To lives scraping by on ramen with overdue rent, 100 billion was a numbing drug that short-circuited reality.
Their brains were probably overloading just processing the number.
I savored their slack-jawed faces one by one.
This was the sweet taste of power.
Then, I tacked on the key condition like it was no big deal.
"Just one condition, though."
"Yes! Anything—name it!"
Glasses Guy practically yelled, his voice shaking with excitement and nerves.
He was totally high on that 100 billion figure.
"Time. Exactly six months."
At my words, Glasses Guy CEO's face stiffened.
Like a bucket of ice water doused his excitement.
"Pardon...?"
His voice shrank. The words "six months" sank slowly into his mind.
"Overhaul graphics, redo sound, fix all bugs, launch. Six months is plenty, right?"
I asked with the most innocent face, like 'What do you want for dinner?'
Silence blanketed the room. The fluorescent buzz loomed large, and outside traffic felt distant.
The hopeful air plummeted into cold, heavy dread.
Like flipping from festival to funeral parlor.
Glasses Guy CEO's face paled.
He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, struggling to speak.
"C-CEO... that's... six months is..."
He stammered in a near-tearful voice.
Unable to form a proper sentence from the shakes.
"Physically impossible. For a small team like ours, just remaking graphic assets takes at least a year, and with sound..."
"Hmm."
I listened to his realistic protest and smirked inwardly.
'Ah, this is why I love developers. Such innocents.'
I cut him off with a gesture and spoke with the kindest big-bro face.
"CEO, CEO. I said 100 billion. One hundred billion. Know what that means?"
I tapped the desk lightly and continued.
"In modern society, throw enough money at something? Most problems solve themselves easy. Short on manpower? Money fixes it. Bring in twenty graphic artists from China. Five mil won a month per head? That's just one billion. Sound? Outsource to Hollywood film composers."
Their eyes widened more. Glasses Guy's mouth gaped again.
"Optimization? Run some AI these days—they're damn good. DPT or Cleanser for code? Faster and more accurate than humans by multiples. Bug hunts? Hire a hundred testers worldwide, pay 'em to grind. Done in a week."
I ticked them off on my fingers.
"And above all, developers are a breed that spits out 'results' when you crank the wheel. Especially with solid motivation like money."
Curly Hair raised a tentative hand.
"B-But then... what'll we have left to do?"
"Plenty. Tons."
I grinned.
"You handle overall game design and core logic. Review outsourced work, direct fixes, manage quality. In simple terms, you're the architects. Laborers lay the bricks."
The youngest's eyes sparkled.
"So... it's really doable in six months?"
"Of course. Never underestimate the power of money."
I replied confidently.
"You couldn't pull it off before not 'cause of skill, but lack of funds. Now that's gone."
Glasses Guy asked in a quivering voice.
"S-So... a contract for real...?"
"Absolutely. Call in legal tomorrow, draw it up."
I stood and offered my hand.
"So, what do you say? Make you millionaires in six months?"
All three jumped up and grabbed my hand.
Their hands still shook—but from excitement now, not fear.
In the end, this world's ruled by money.