Smooth Sailing!
“Hahaha!”
How long had it been since I last laughed like this while looking at Meracle's financial statements? Actually, this might be the first time. That's how perfect things were right now at Meracle—we were riding high on fair winds, with money pouring in like never before.
Monthly Rent: 5M won
2M (Renea)
Interest: 1M won
A cool 13 million won or more gushing out every month. But if this month's sales kept up at last week's pace—projected revenue of 70 million won. Subtract the 13 million in expenses, set aside 10% VAT, and I'd still pocket around 50 million won.
“Oh man, it's so sweet! So sweet! Sweeeet!”
I writhed in my chair, and Kim Yang, who was shopping online next to me, furrowed her brow.
“K-Keep it down. Sh-Shut up.”
“Kim Yang! Call an ambulance! Your boss is about to collapse from diabetes!”
“Wh-Whatever.”
“Should we just convert too?!”
In just a few days, my view of Yeoeumhoe had upgraded from cult to pitiful customers with tragic backstories.
“Ah... I hope Yeoeumhoe sticks around forever. It's so sweet I might die from it.”
“B-Boss.”
Of course, we'd have to factor in Yeoeumhoe's unique nature, but at this rate, Meracle could start competing with other matchmaking agencies on sheer scale. The dream of buying an apartment in downtown Seoul under my name was starting to feel real.
“This is too good. Seriously. Yeoeumhoe is the best. I've come to love them.”
Matchmaking agencies typically saw short-term clients anyway—successful or not, people naturally drifted away over time. Then we'd just ramp up marketing to reel in new ones.
Should I invest in ads? Or maybe host our own mixer party?
As I mulled over business plans, one idea popped up.
“Kim Yang.”
“Ugh, wh-what now?! I'm b-busy.”
“Busy browsing clothes?”
“B-Busy.”
It was nearly quitting time, and she was slacking off. I snuck my hand over and closed her screen with a shortcut key.
“W-Wanna die? Kid?”
“How about we get the company a car?”
“...A car?”
Kim Yang, fuming and ready to snap, perked up with round eyes.
“F-For real?”
“Yeah, how long are we gonna keep busing it?”
“L-Last time. B-Bike.”
“Right, bikes and electric scooters. But now we can afford a car, yeah? We have building parking too.”
“R-Right. B-Boss.”
Call me boss the second a car comes up.
“I heard long-term leases get subsidies and tax breaks. We'd need some business mileage logs, though—”
“Wh-What kind?”
“Gotta check. Hmm, since we're on it, let's browse.”
The long-term lease site had cars lined up nicely. They looked affordable at first glance, but add-ons jacked up the price fast—annoying.
“Sedan makes sense, right?”
“D-Duh.”
Lumien GT. Taerim Seras. Neoline VANT, etc. I never cared before, but now that I could drive one? Saliva flooded my mouth.
“Damn, rich people must agonize over this daily?”
“O-Ohh.”
Kim Yang huddled close, oohing too. One model caught my eye.
“Shilla-sa's Argent S! What about this? I want it!”
“A-Argent? I d-don't know cars.”
“This one. Gotta be! I always thought it'd be my entry-level dream car once I struck it rich!”
“E-Entry-level?”
Big sedan—room for all staff. Sold. But Kim Yang frowned.
“Th-This one's e-expensive?”
“Huh...?”
Yeah, not covered by perks—way pricier than others.
“...”
“S-Something else.”
“But—”
“S-Something else!”
She smacked my shoulder, urging the mouse wheel down. Then Raichen entered.
It was quitting time—date night again? But—
“A client has arrived.”
He stepped aside politely, revealing a refined woman behind his bulk.
“Yu Ye-na?”
“It's changed a lot. Thought I'd walked into the wrong place.”
Yu Ye-na scanned the room in admiration, but my eyes locked on her two bags.
“What's up? And what's that?”
“Came for your help with something.”
“Me?”
“...”
She glanced at the others. I stood.
“Consulting room over there.”
“Sure.”
“Raichen, Kim Yang—wrap up and head out. Renea?”
“Unclogging the toilet.”
“...Right.”
1,902 years old and hustling. Goals.
In Room 1, Yu Ye-na plunked the bags on the table. Heavy thud. Those usually meant cash.
“So, what's this about?”
“You know Yeoeumhoe?”
“Of course. Our lovely clients.”
“Need your help uncovering the truth behind their radio.”
“My help?”
She hesitated, averting her eyes—guilt?
“I think this Yeoeumhoe thing is a planned scam via data leaks.”
“Scam? Yeah, obvious.”
“Right, you wouldn't buy it.”
She smiled faintly. But a question nagged.
“Still weird, though. Voices of the dead? Possible?”
“Not impossible.”
“...Someone you're suspecting?”
She flinched at my question, then nodded faintly.
“Not exactly a person.”
“Not a person?”
“I believe the mastermind is Axis, Cyber City's central AI.”
“Whoa... that's huge.”
Collect data, fake dead voices. Cyber City had deepfakes and voice mods galore. Axis ran Floor 6, under Tower Admin—could meddle elsewhere. Plausible. But motive?
“Whatever, I'm out. Matchmaking boss living the good life.”
“I'll repay you.”
“Repay? What? Not some cliché cash drop-off?”
“...”
She hesitated, then slid a bag over. Click—locks popped, revealing stacks of bills.
“100 million. Two bags—200 million.”
“Dismantle our Yeoeumhoe clients for this?”
“You know it's temporary. They'll bail next month. Tower Admin won't let it drag.”
“...”
“Not just money. You don't want them turning into war zealots.”
War zealots. Heavy term. Then the door opened—Renea with a vacuum, spotting us.
“Huh?”
“Ah, Renea. Perfect timing.”
“Hm? What is it?”
Great segue.
“Tell Kim Yang we're buying a Shilla-sa Argent S on installments.”
“Argent? Shilla... car?! We're getting a car?!”
“Mine, actually.”
“...”
Hand off my shoulder, lady.
200 million from the sky—company? Nah, mine.
“Tch, so sneaky and dirty. From now on, this lady rides to work with you too!”
She grumbled out. I pocketed a bag; Yu Ye-na nodded approvingly.
“Now, your questions. Why Axis?”
She answered before I asked—like she'd read my mind.
“Short version: narrowed possibilities, only that left.”
“...”
“Gu Murim lack of Yeoeumhoe spread was key—no electronics there. Hard to check data.”
“So you see scam. Want me to take a 7th Floor relic from my past there?”
“Yeah... You told me once. The medal. Stained with old friends' blood.”
“...”
Medal. Sentimental item. I'd shared the sappy story with ex-girlfriend Yu Ye-na.
“Sorry, Juseon.”
I sighed, meeting her apology.
“Eh, no biggie. I figured scam anyway.”
“...”
“Won't leak about me?”
“Promise. 7th Floor stays secret—too dangerous.”
Good. Easier way anyway.
“Oh, Beloah—our client, close to Yeoeumhoe's founder? Connect through her.”
“Really? Much smoother. Might wrap quick.”
She nodded, satisfied. But doubt lingered.
“Still, if Axis did it, need solid evidence, right?”
“You got me. Sent Seram to Cyber City.”
Ryu Seram? Big league.
“Know a skilled hacker there personally. Linking up for proof.”
“Damn... everyone's grinding.”
Here I was, lounging on cash piles.
* * *
Cyber City's hacker crew Dead Packet were white hats—public good only, moral jobs. Usually broke, but their skills scored big clients. Neo Seoul Hunter Association VP Yu Ye-na included.
Today's gig was massive. Goggle-like glasses on, they tapped air with glove tools—not keyboards.
“Yaaawn.”
Ryu Seram, here for “serious business,” just yawned behind them. Bored sans skills.
“Huh? Leader, one file left.”
“Access log?”
“Clean.”
“Hmm, trap? Scan for malware first.”
Dead Packet hacked Axis's logs, dodging the AI's eyes. Ryu Seram yawned through their chatter.
What're they yapping about?
Zero clue. Wanted baseball.
“Nothing fishy. Normal vid, ~1 min.”
“Hm—.”
Mohawk leader removed goggles, eyed Ryu Seram.
“What now? Check it?”
“Dunno cars from boats—your call.”
“Hmmm. If big, wouldn't leak easy.”
Big screen for all. Dim lab, PC glow only. Hunched old man rasped dying breaths.
“Crazy... that's Olbekrimer, right?”
“Live footage?!”
Olbekrimer? Nerd weebs. Leader explained for client.
“AI system's grandmaster. Axis is his masterpiece. Cranky but genius old coot.”
Dead now, he added. Ryu Seram nodded vaguely, watched end.
WEEEEEENG! Screen blacked out, power died, darkness.
“Wh-What!?”
“What happened?!”
“Emergency power! Connect!”
“Useless!”
Dead Packet panicked, tapping dead gear. Ryu Seram glanced at door calmly.
“Something's coming.”
Not one or two. Horde.
“They were waiting? Too fast.”
She rolled shoulders, headed door. Dead Packet leader screamed, eyes bulging.
“Fuck! That Axis bastard! Trap! The video's the trap!”
“Trap?”
“AIs can't attack humans—prime directive! Exceptions: if city survival protocol threatened!”
“Wh-What?!”
“Axis flagged video-watchers as survival threats! Legally kills hackers on sight now—baited us!”
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
Mech armor outside. All eyed tiny iron door—
Plop. Glowing orb from ceiling vent.
“Pump bomb!”
“Shiiit! Down!”
Hackers dove. Ryu Seram charged center, covered bomb with hands.
“Client, what?! Get down!”
“Too late! We're dead—!”
BANG!
Blast in her palms— just smoke, heat. Dud?
“Hot as hell.”
She dusted hands, glared at door-smashing mechs, yelled:
“I'll clear a path—follow me!”