Chapter 30

In March 1990, although Insu had achieved his first success as a developer and his future plans were steadily progressing, an enormous obstacle suddenly appeared before him.

“Is there really no way around it?”

“Yeah. I tried looking for a solution, but... it seems difficult.”

Seongcheol wore an apologetic expression, while Insu lowered his small head toward the floor with a tiny sigh.

The issue was his admission into elementary school.

Except in this era, it was still called gukminhakgyo rather than elementary school.

At first, Insu had simply assumed he could just take the qualification exam instead.

But after researching it, he discovered that the qualification exam had an age restriction.

He wasn’t sure whether it had been the same in his previous life, but in this world, you had to be at least eleven years old to take it.

And if you were already an enrolled student, it wasn’t even possible.

You had to drop out first before attempting it, and even getting approval to drop out would likely be difficult.

The web of the compulsory education system was denser than he expected.

The only somewhat possible method was going overseas.

That was a route Insu had researched separately himself.

PC communication wasn’t as good as the internet, but it was still useful enough.

Of course, foreign countries didn’t lack compulsory education systems either.

But unlike Korea’s rigid structure with almost no loopholes, there were at least openings to exploit.

Moreover, abroad, he would hold foreigner status and potentially receive more flexibility from the system.

I seriously have to hit it big somehow.

But leaving the country immediately was difficult too.

First of all, it was impossible for seven-year-old Insu to go alone, meaning he would need to go together with his parents.

And he couldn’t just suddenly ask his father, who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was steadily employed at a major corporation, to quit his job and move overseas with him.

No matter how much money Insu earned, his parents still had their own lives and goals, so there was no guarantee they would simply agree.

Still, considering how much his father genuinely liked games and computers, it didn’t seem completely impossible either.

He felt he would need to find the right timing to bring it up later.

“Haah...”

For now, regardless, he was stuck becoming an elementary school student.

A few days later, wearing an elementary school backpack, Insu looked across the dirt-covered playground toward the bleak-looking school building and sighed once again.

He had already visited during yesterday’s entrance ceremony, but even seeing it again made his chest feel stifled.

Dragging his feet, Insu headed toward the classroom.

“From now on, you are elementary school students. Not babies. So if you don’t listen properly and study hard—”

At the end of her sentence, the teacher slammed the desk with a switch.

Bang!

The teacher looked to be in her thirties.

Her impression didn’t seem particularly bad, but the atmosphere was definitely different from kindergarten.

I should at least study hard and do my homework properly.

It wasn’t that he feared the physical pain of being hit with a switch.

But he still possessed the memories of being an adult in his previous life, and because of that, his mental age remained much higher than his classmates.

For someone like him, simply being hit by another person would likely be mentally unbearable.

Fortunately, unlike his classmates who merely flinched in fear, Insu already knew from experience in his previous life that as long as you studied well and didn’t cause trouble, teachers generally left you alone.

So he decided he first needed to establish the image of being a model student.

With that thought in mind, he opened his textbook.

[...And so the fox ended up losing all the rice cakes. Therefore, children, you should become kind and honest kids.]

Without realizing it, Insu sighed again and closed the textbook.

Fuck.

Then he opened the arithmetic book, saw addition and subtraction, and sighed once more.

Compared to kindergarten, his classmates felt perhaps slightly more mature.

When told to stay quiet, they stayed quiet, and they moved around less restlessly.

But the moment break time started and childish chaos exploded everywhere alongside immature conversation topics, his motivation instantly collapsed again.

“My family bought a computer this time.”

“Really? Then you can play games at home now?”

At least hearing conversations about computers and games briefly caught his attention.

But perhaps RPGs were still too difficult for first graders, because every game title and topic he overheard involved only simple games.

It wasn’t as though he viewed his classmates as QA machines or feedback ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tools.

Even so, he couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed.

Class time itself was genuine torture for both time and sanity.

Back in kindergarten, he could at least secretly do other things in hiding.

But now he had to sit at a rigid desk under supervision, making that impossible.

Of course, if he truly tried, he might still manage it secretly.

But the humiliation of getting caught and beaten in front of children was something he absolutely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wanted to avoid.

At least one fortunate thing was that classes were short since he was still in the lower grades.

School ended at nearly the same time kindergarten used to.

“Class president!”

“Yes! Attention! Bow!”

“Thank you, teacher!”

Insu glanced briefly at the students staying behind for cleaning duty before immediately leaving the classroom.

I seriously have to figure something out.

He couldn’t bring himself to turn his father into one of those “goose fathers” living apart from the family overseas.

So instead, he needed to transform his father into a company executive.

Once he actually started elementary school life, his vision truly darkened.

Jackpot. I need a massive jackpot.

There was always the possibility of The Land Of Fantasy becoming a huge overseas success.

But rather than relying on something already out of his hands and impossible to predict, Insu became determined to make their next project unbelievably successful instead.

And perhaps his father might actually become happier working at a game company he genuinely liked while earning a higher salary than at his current company.

“Mom, I’m going to the office!”

After returning home, Insu only greeted her briefly before heading straight back out toward work again.

Maybe he would stop bothering later once he got used to school, but for now, he still intended to at least greet his mother before leaving.

“Alright! Have a good day!”

After hiring team members, Hyein had relaxed slightly.

Previously, no matter how safe the neighborhood seemed, she constantly worried because only young Insu and Eunha were there together, so she frequently visited the office herself.

But now several adults were present as well, easing her concerns considerably.

At first, having unfamiliar strangers there had actually made her even more nervous.

But after some time passed and she became accustomed to them, her feelings gradually changed.

“I’m here!”

“Ah. Welcome.”

When Insu arrived at the development room, Park Yoonsu greeted him warmly first, while the others nodded awkwardly with slightly embarrassed expressions.

It seemed Eunha Noona was still at school.

The atmosphere was a little awkward, but it had already improved somewhat compared to before.

Which made sense.

After all, everyone else was an adult, while Insu was still just a seven-year-old child.

At first, most of them had no idea how they were supposed to treat him.

Fortunately, Park Yoonsu treated Insu with extreme respect, which naturally guided the overall atmosphere in that direction.

It wasn’t because Yoonsu was the type accustomed to hierarchical societies where people were judged by rank instead of age.

Rather, he had always possessed strong pride in his own genius and fundamentally believed people should be evaluated according to ability.

More importantly, he genuinely viewed Insu as a genius leader who would open the future and guide them into a new world.

Although Insu possessed memories from his previous life, he also still carried the ego of a seven-year-old child, so this treatment felt somewhat burdensome at times.

But rationally speaking, authority as a leader was necessary.

Even if he didn’t intentionally create that atmosphere himself, there was no reason to reject it once it had naturally formed.

After greeting everyone, Insu immediately went to his seat and turned on the computer.

He had already completed the overall planning for the next project himself and had organized many of the systems that needed implementation.

What still troubled him was that he lacked experience dividing work among team members.

But since he also hadn’t fully grasped the new employees’ actual abilities yet, he decided to break tasks apart roughly and distribute them while evaluating them at the same time.

Of course, he had no intention of simply assigning more work to the talented people and less to the weaker ones.

For talented people, you could simply leave them alone and let them work.

But since everyone earned roughly similar salaries, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠couldn’t just endlessly reduce the workload of weaker employees either.

Instead, he needed to draw out their maximum abilities by setting deadlines, having himself or stronger developers teach them, and subtly applying pressure.

In nice terms, it could be called improving capabilities and boosting motivation.

But fundamentally, it was still pressure.

And if they still suck in the end, I’ll just make them work overtime.

Insu didn’t particularly want to become some evil boss.

But development was ultimately the kind of work where output directly matched workload, meaning some degree of squeezing people was unavoidable.

The team members quietly stared at their monitors while hammering away at keyboards.

Tak tak tak tak.

“Insu! I’m here!”

A while later, Eunha Noona arrived.

She entered while calling out to Insu out of habit from before, then belatedly realized new team members had joined and quickly greeted everyone again with a slightly flushed face.

“Ah. Hello.”

“The director’s here?”

Nobody seemed annoyed.

If anything, the atmosphere felt more like they found her cute.

Especially Lee Suhyeon from the graphics team, who greeted her with a huge round face full of bright smiles.

Perhaps because Lee Suhyeon had experienced many different jobs before, he felt like the most socially skilled among the new team members.

Moreover, his chubby build and naturally pleasant appearance also helped.

And since they shared a common interest in manga, Eunha Noona quickly started treating Suhyeon almost like an uncle.

Soon, the development room once again filled with clicking sounds instead of human voices.

After several more days passed, Insu could finally make rough evaluations of the team members.

First, as expected, Mr. Park Yoonsu was definitely A-grade talent.

Not only was his development speed fast, but his motivation was tremendous as well, to the point where Insu sometimes felt pushed forward from behind.

Meanwhile, Mr. Yoo Juyeon still felt somewhat clumsy, but at least he was diligent.

Well, it’s his first real practical experience after graduation, so that’s natural.

Honestly, he felt slightly frustrating at times.

But thinking realistically and objectively, someone like Yoo Juyeon was probably actually normal.

Insu already knew from military service and numerous part-time jobs in his previous life that simply not being utterly useless already counted as being fortunate.

If this were Romance of the Three Kingdoms, he’d probably be around the level of Jian Yong, Sun Qian, or Mi Zhu.

He should already feel grateful the guy wasn’t at the level of Liu Shan or Xiahou Mao.

Lee Suhyeon also wasn’t bad.

He didn’t seem to possess overwhelmingly exceptional artistic sense, but whenever graphics director Eunha Noona established the direction and concepts, he followed along reasonably well.

Overall, it would probably be accurate to say he simply had a good head for work.

Of course, these were only first impressions gathered over a short period of time.

Truly understanding people would naturally require spending much longer with them.

And just as Insu evaluated the team members, the team members also evaluated Insu.

He really is a genius.

Park Yoonsu in particular paid great attention to Insu.

Naturally, this interest was purely as a game developer.

At first, hearing they were making a simulation game surprised him slightly.

But after hearing the explanation that it was preparation for the future and learning more about the actual design, he felt once again that Insu truly was different.

Honestly, after observing him from nearby for some time, Insu’s coding skills themselves weren’t overwhelmingly extraordinary.

But that was only natural.

No matter how much of a genius someone was, without accumulated time and experience, technical mastery couldn’t simply appear out of nowhere.

Still, every so often, Insu casually demonstrated highly original and efficient code that he seemed to have created himself, and moments like those revealed flashes of genuine genius.

Of course, in reality, this wasn’t genius at all.

It was simply code Insu learned in 2025.

But more than coding ability, what Park Yoonsu truly valued was Insu’s planning ability and ideas.

Probably because Yoonsu himself had always felt lacking in those exact areas while developing games alone, they appeared even more extraordinary to him.

In any case, Yoonsu threw himself passionately into development because he genuinely wanted to bring this game into reality.

The other two members probably shared similar feelings to some extent.

Even aside from purely wanting to make games, the project itself looked highly promising thanks to its excellent planning, making them serious about it for the sake of their own careers as well.

After all, if they completely lacked motivation and only dreamed of slacking off while collecting paychecks, they would never have joined a game development team like this in the first place.

And so, gradually matching their pace with one another, the development team finally began moving forward step by step.