Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Mai Ryeon (2)
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Who would have thought kidnapping Ellen Marshall could be this easy.
Truly a moment worth savoring.
He stared at me with a blank expression. He still hadn't grasped the situation.
Hey, you've been kidnapped.
"...So, what the hell is this?"
That was all he could muster—random nonsense. Mai Ryeon clearly hadn't pieced it together yet.
But since I'm a merciful soul, I didn't shove a gun to his head. Instead, I decided to indulge his fantastical delusions.
"I came because I want to be friends with you!"
"...?"
I nodded with a bright, beaming smile.
"Oh, let me introduce myself first. My name's Yoo Ha-yeon. No need for yours—I already know it. Mai Ryeon, right?"
A chaebol third-gen super-genius beauty like me personally crafting a boy meets girl plot? No red-blooded boy could resist that.
Especially one smack in the middle of puberty.
"How...?"
Luckily, he still had some rationality left. He eyed me warily as he spoke, though he couldn't stop sneaking peeks at my face. Adorable.
Oh no, I've picked up a bad habit.
Why is teasing people so damn fun?
"I saw the cool code you posted in that magazine."
"...You tracked me down just from the game code I put in the magazine?"
I nodded with a perky smile.
"Yep!"
Mai Ryeon didn't bother asking how I'd found him from just that. There aren't many girls in Korea who roll up in a Benz with a stunning secretary in tow.
Especially ones with the Yoo surname.
"Why, though?"
"You seemed smart. I don't have anyone worth talking to, you know? Don't you think most people are dumber than they seem?"
"... ."
Of course, I don't actually think that. Intelligence and wisdom are different beasts, and even I do stupid things sometimes.
Take Chairman Yoo Seong-pil or former Senior Presidential Secretary Kim Hae-ik—they're leagues ahead of my past life's self. Compared to my current self, they're about even, so I humbly consider myself a genius.
But... Mai Ryeon would see it differently. His dad was smart enough, but nowhere near Ellen Marshall's level.
"You expect me to believe a rich girl like you came all this way just for that? Wait, then what was that earlier? 'Get in the car'?"
"Just something I felt like saying. I watched a spy movie once and added it to my bucket list."
"... ."
Thankfully, Mai Ryeon was just as much of a weirdo as me, so he got it.
Or gave up trying to.
"And that's exactly why a rich girl like me could come find you. Right?"
"Well... yeah, I guess."
Surprisingly often, people show up to meet strangers based on a short blurb in a newspaper or magazine. Before the internet boom, all sorts of wild stuff happened.
Hiring someone off a single code snippet was tame. People flocked to posts begging to die in Antarctica, and girls emigrated across the world to marry based on one photo.
The 20th century was a romantic era like that.
In a few decades, this absurdity would be repackaged as "the fateful meeting of geniuses."
"Alright, let's head to the office! Si-hyeon, let's go!"
"...Yes, ma'am."
-Vroom!
The black sedan sped down the street with a smooth purr. Mai Ryeon still seemed detached from reality, pinching his cheek or staring blankly out the window to pass the time.
Then, as if struck by a thought, he turned to me.
"...Wait. Office? What office?"
"Didn't I mention? I run a little company. What'd you think I wanted you for?"
"You said you wanted to be friends... ."
"Your name wasn't even in the magazine. I didn't know you were only thirteen at first."
I knew, but I had plenty of excuses.
Pygmalion Soft was about to dive headfirst into software development anyway.
"I was planning to recruit you as a programmer. But surprise—turns out there's another kid like me in Korea."
I flashed an angelic smile and poked his chest with my index finger. Bonk.
The boy's face flushed beet red.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Pygmalion Soft is a game company—and a software company. But we don't develop game software.
Because... it doesn't make money.
What my company does right now falls into two buckets: importing and distributing killer foreign games like Tetris, and building software for internal use at Daeha Group.
Needless to say, I'm one of the best developers in the entire Daeha Group—no, the whole country. With my reincarnated super-brain plus future knowledge, sucking at programming would be ridiculous.
Landing software gigs is a breeze. Every programmer in Korea is studying our company's code right now.
"P-Pygmalion Soft? You're the boss here?"
In other words... Mai Ryeon knew my company.
He gawked at the sign, mouth agape. He seemed more excited than when he'd been ogling my perfect face.
"Technically, not the president. More like the owner."
"Same difference! So you really are a Daeha Group heiress."
I felt a mix of pride and something oddly thrilling. Ellen Marshall reacting like this to my company.
"Too early to be impressed, heh. Come on in."
I giggled as I led him inside, then waved confidently at the president.
"Uncle, brought a friend. Give him the tour, yeah?"
"Ah, sure thing."
The president glanced at Mai Ryeon and turned back to his work. Mai Ryeon's fervent gaze only intensified.
Ah, yes—this is it.
The mighty Ellen Marshall, a top global power player in my past life, showing this kind of enthusiasm!
A shiver of delight raced down my spine. Buzzing with excitement, I showed Mai Ryeon around.
"These are the company computers. Picked 'em up last year for the Yongsan Electronics Market opening."
-Thud.
He bolted over like a shot, grabbing one and drooling.
"Holy crap, a Macintosh II? Whoa! Amiga 2000! How'd you snag these...?"
Sure enough, spotting the Mac and Amiga before IBM confirmed his hipster streak was alive and well.
"Pretty nice, huh? 80MB storage, 8MB RAM."
To my past-life memory, it was still painfully slow. But by current standards, top-of-the-line cutting-edge stuff.
The only better machine I had was a Cray supercomputer secretly stashed in the US under my Alpha Fund alias.
I'd wanted to bring it to Daeha Securities' basement, but... Korea's first supercomputer, a Cray-2S, was coming in under national auspices this November. Snagging one first would've been too conspicuous.
Plus, it cost over ten million dollars—a real wallet-killer.
"...Wow."
Mai Ryeon, used to bog-standard personal computers, was floored by these alone.
Short exclamation of awe, then he powered one on like it was hypnotizing him.
"The colors are insane. Can... can I try it?"
I magnanimously allowed it. Praise from the great ones never gets old.
"Go ahead. Yours probably tops out at 16 colors, right? Take your time—I ain't going anywhere. Heh, careful, you're gonna break it."
Reason finally flickered back into his eyes, and he flinched.
"Ah, uh. Right."
Anyone who goes googly-eyed over new hardware has a type, and he's it.
He fired up the Amiga 2000, tinkered around, then asked with trembling eyes.
"...How many colors? Feels like way more than 256."
"4096."
Best color quality on any personal computer I could get. Performance lagged behind the Mac a bit, but colors? Unmatched.
"...!"
Ooh, yes. That's the reaction.
Praise me more.
Having my past-life nemesis (one-sided) hype me up lifted my spirits. Almost enlightened...
Anyway, hedge funds fleecing ants is standard playbook—calling me out for it? Rude as hell.
Fellow Korean-American and all, mocking me online instead of helping. Won't happen this lifetime.
"Whew, that was fun. Thanks, Yoo Ha-yeon... right?"
By dusk, after fiddling with the office computers to his heart's content, Mai Ryeon thanked me on the way home.
I nodded with a bright smile.
"You got it. Fun times, Ryeon-ah. Let's hang again sometime?"
Zero resistance to girls, apparently—he blushed and looked away.
"Uh, yeah... You said you wanted to hire me?"
"Mm, still do. But you're a minor, so tricky. We can just chat whenever."
"... ."
Disappointment flashed in his eyes, then hardened into resolve. Like he'd made a decision.
"We'd meet a lot, then?"
"Sure, I guess? But I'm busy, so not often. Wait three years—I'll follow you to middle school. Maybe once a year till then."
Mai Ryeon stroked his chin, puzzled.
Sigh, the kid has no idea how lucky he is.
A beauty like me going this far? He should be thrilled.
"I thought of a way."
"What?"
"Might not work, so secret for now. Don't stress—I execute."
I knew that much. The great Ellen Marshall? No doubt.
He grinned, waved, and headed home.
For some reason, I felt uneasy.
"... ."
Sigh, why the bad vibes?
This is exactly how it felt when he called my fund a "massive scam" in my past life...
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Two weeks later, Monday morning.
At school, I rubbed my eyes and pinched my cheek.
What the—am I hallucinating?
A puberty-stricken boy waved at me with an awkward smile.
Mai Ryeon.
"...Hey?"
Well, then.
The moment he learned about mandatory military service, he confronted his dad, snagged US citizenship, ditched Korean nationality the second he turned eighteen, and bolted to America. That insane execution on full display.
Yeah, sounds like him.
But why the hell is he here? This is the fourth-grade classroom.
Then the homeroom teacher stepped in with a helpful explanation.
"Class, we have a new transfer student. Mai Ryeon. Be nice to him, okay? ...Take a seat over there."
What.
Why are you coming this way.
I stood and whispered to him.
"...Why are you still in fourth grade? You're two years older than me. Weren't you in sixth?"
"I repeated a grade. Wanted to mess with computers."
This lunatic.
"...For two years? Are you insane?"
"Yeah, planned for one, but... Dad beat me so bad I landed in the hospital. Extra year. Worked out fine."
Tsk, didn't know that.
Felt a twinge of pity, but I brazened it out. Not bragging, but I've got plenty to boast about too.
"Tough break. My dad's dead, so he can't beat me anymore."
"... ."