Blank Checks and Bad Bets

With Park Jin-chul gone, the office had settled back into its usual quiet. Occasionally, Assistant Manager Lee Seo-yeon would drop by for a bit of idle chit-chat, but that was about it.

After all the dopamine-fueled excitement of the past few days, the boredom was enough to make me drowsy. Which, to be fair, was only natural.

I was a soon-to-be departee with nothing left on my plate, while Park Jin-chul and Field Exploration Team 1 — who should have been drowning in post-expedition reports — were all lying flat on their backs in the medical center.

In other words, I was the salaryman version of a loot goblin, collecting pay for doing absolutely nothing.

Still, boredom had its limits. Honestly, part of me was starting to wish Park Jin-chul would come back from the medical center already.

But that feeling didn't last long.

As quitting time drew near, my drowsy mind snapped wide awake.

It wasn't just the joy of leaving work. Today was the day I'd finally process the haul slumbering inside my expansion-enchanted briefcase — including the core ripped straight from the nerve center of the metal giant.

My heart fluttered like a kid waiting for a package to arrive, and my thoughts ran on ahead of me.

What's this one going to give me?

A core torn from the heart of an Irregular — the metal giant. Like the [Omen] magic stone from before, it had to contain a [Concept]. And given the nature of the Frozen World... would it be Hardening? Or Metalization?

I had no idea whether a magic stone carrying such a concept actually existed.

But the things unearthed in the Tower's dungeons were so outlandish and unprecedented that anything felt possible. Either way, whichever one it turned out to be, its value would be astronomical.

And if I could use it to shore up the weaknesses of my cutter knife, with its [Omen] concept baked in? Or forge it into a suit of armor?

Then again... selling it might be the smarter move. Money's the kind of thing you can never have too much of.

Either way, it was a happy problem to have. Besides, even just the pile of special metals from the Frozen World filling my bag would fetch a sum nobody could afford to sneeze at, so I wasn't particularly pressed either way.

Humming to myself in the middle of these pleasant daydreams, I headed out of the office.

Beneath Gangnam's dazzling neon signs stood a building as dignified as any luxury boutique.

The Archive.

I hadn't expected to become such a regular here. But once again, the place I'd come to trade was this one.

Come to think of it, last time I nearly got turned away at the door — unidentified identity, no reservation, just walking in off the street...

Would this time be any better? Even then it had felt like I'd slipped in by a lucky accident. Sure, Jang Hyun-woo had happened to be out front last time, but there was no guarantee he'd be here again today.

Just as I was standing at the entrance, wearing a bemused smile at my own uncertainty—

"Welcome, sir."

"...?"

The moment the lobby doors opened, a familiar face was there to greet me.

A crisp suit, gold-rimmed glasses. The manager I'd first met before — Jang Hyun-woo.

And from the way the curators scattered around the lobby bent at the waist in a full ninety-degree bow as he passed, he was clearly no ordinary manager.

So that's why he was there the first time, too. If anything, it felt like proof that The Archive was paying even closer attention to the mysterious hunter known as [Corporate Slave Life] than I'd imagined.

He'd even been waiting for me.

"You were waiting for me?"

"Of course. When an esteemed guest may arrive at any moment, standing ready at all times is the proper posture, wouldn't you say?"

Jang Hyun-woo smiled warmly and guided me downstairs.

"I committed a discourtesy at our first meeting, you see. Something like this is the least I can do to earn back some points."

"You really didn't need to go that far."

"But I did. In a business built on trust, chasing short-term gains is a shameful habit. So consider this a small gift — in the spirit of reconciliation, and of investment."

Jang Hyun-woo drew a black card from his breast pocket and presented it with both hands.

"This is...?"

A card gleaming with a logo inlaid in gold leaf.

"......"

For a moment, my hand froze.

Anyone else might not have understood, but as someone who had conducted trades here time and again back in my days as an [Arc] team leader, I knew exactly how much that card weighed.

It was the VVIP membership, issued only to the whale-tier clients whom The Archive was willing to forgo even its transaction commissions to keep.

And they're handing this to me over a single trade?

As far as I knew, the only people who held one were those who could do business with The Archive on equal footing — executives, heads of exploration divisions, board members, people like that.

"...It feels like a bit much for an apology. It's not as if I've traded here all that often."

That was the honest truth. As a mere apology, the weight of this thing was simply too heavy.

But Jang Hyun-woo only chuckled at my reaction.

"As I said, this isn't simply an apology. It's an investment as well. After all, those who become VVIPs only grow fonder of the black market. Considering the strategic value of the items you'll be bringing us in the future... this is a modest courtesy, truly."

He adjusted his glasses and smiled gently.

Of course. It wasn't flattery.

The [Omen]-concept magic stone I'd brought last time alone had been worth a fortune.

Or is he saying they're betting on my ability itself?

Well, when someone offers, there was no reason to refuse.

Meeting Managing Director Na Hee-ra here before, receiving a VVIP ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠membership now... good things kept coming my way.

Perhaps the person who actually ran this place was watching me a great deal more closely than I realized.

"If you keep holding it out like that, it's going to get awkward for me..."

"Then I'll gratefully accept."

The moment I took the card, Jang Hyun-woo's tour resumed.

"Now then, allow me to show you the facilities reserved for The Archive's most special guests."

With a bright, satisfied smile, Jang Hyun-woo led me down to the lower floors.

The first stop was a training facility whose interior was nothing but a vast expanse of pristine white cubes.

"This is called 'The Cube.' No matter the grade of artifact or ability you test here, not a trace of power will leak to the outside world. Feel free to test your firepower to your heart's content. Famous hunters do drop in to use it from time to time."

Next came a colossal archive that brought to mind an enormous library.

"This is the Information Reading Room — the beating heart of The Archive. Dungeon conquest data, guild expedition schedules, auction ledgers, and... even personal dossiers on specific hunters are traded here."

Jang Hyun-woo glanced sideways at my mask and tossed out a joke.

"At this very moment, I'd wager information about you, sir, might fetch the highest price in the building."

"Who knows. They might crack it open and be disappointed to find nothing but an ordinary wage slave."

To my deadpan laugh, Jang Hyun-woo answered only with a faint smile.

And so, at the tail end of the VIP facility tour, we arrived before a door designed as a sleek, monochrome cube.

That door hovered weightlessly in midair, then slid sideways, opening with a whisper.

"This is... [Salon]. A place of exchange for the VIPs who use The Archive — you might call it a networking space where, at times, business is conducted between clients."

The moment the door opened, soft ambient lighting, the low purr of jazz, and the rich aroma of premium cigars teased my senses.

Luxurious leather sofas — expensive at a glance — dotted the room, and here and there sat familiar faces I'd seen in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the media, gathered in twos and threes.

But the most eye-catching group of all had claimed the bar table at the center of the room.

Park Sang-woo, the affable young Ranker wearing the emblem of [Dokkaebi].

An executive-level director I vaguely recalled being affiliated with [Ohsung].

And...

...Huh?

A man lounging imperiously at the central bar table with one leg crossed over the other. Our paths had crossed only a handful of times within the company, but this was a face I knew for certain.

Vice President of [Arc Industry] — Jin Se-hoon.

Grandson of Chairman Jin Jung-hoon of the parent company Yu-sung Group, and one of the true powerholders at [Arc].

Just then, the topic of their conversation drifted into my ear.

"So, no changes on the 'Frozen World' front?"

"That's what I'm told. Well, who knows about the outer sectors, where no intel gets out. Beyond that, everything's the same. Still, can you believe it? I never dreamed [Arc] had a hunter like that."

"...Well, whatever else, at least he knows people come first. Our hunters do too."

Jin Se-hoon sat with his shoulders squared, an expression of downright self-satisfaction on his face.

Now that's a sight to behold.

I couldn't even bring myself to scoff, just quietly watching, when Jin Se-hoon added one more remark.

"Ah... still, better than that guy would be the one behind him — the one in the mask. All that sense of justice is worth nothing. Nothing but money. So I asked around, but no matter how much I pressed the Hunter Administration Bureau, they kept their mouths shut and wouldn't say a word."

Meanwhile, whether he'd noticed Jang Hyun-woo and me entering, the [Ohsung] executive shot a subtle glance at Jin Se-hoon's words.

In an instant, every gaze in the room swung toward the entrance.

A plain business suit. A mask. And a strangely familiar air.

"Oh...?"

Jin Se-hoon beamed as though he'd just laid eyes on the very thing he'd been desperately ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠searching for. Setting down his glass, he sprang to his feet and strode right over.

A figure matching, to the letter, the man who'd headlined the industry's news broadcasts. And appearing in a black-market VIP lounge with a personal manager in tow — there could be no doubt as to who this was.

Jin Se-hoon's eyes gleamed with naked greed.

"Hold on... hold on. You're the guy from that video, aren't you? What was the hunter name again... Corporate Slave Life?"

He strode up and spoke before anyone else could react.

It was the brash, bordering-on-rude confidence peculiar to the chaebol class.

"Pleasure to meet you. Jin Se-hoon, Vice President of Arc Industry. You've heard the name, surely?"

Before the business card even came out, he cut straight to the point.

"I'll skip the pleasantries. You're flying solo right now, yes? Come to us at [Arc]. Whatever you want, we'll give it to you."

A short, blunt, direct recruitment pitch.

"Want to build your own team? Fine. Want access to a workshop? Also fine. Money? Name a number — there's nothing we can't match. Salary? Signing bonus? Equity? All of it's yours. Or I'll write you a blank check right here, right now."

The room stirred.

The [Ohsung] executive and Park Sang-woo of [Dokkaebi] had both been eyeing me hungrily, but faced with the sheer audacity of Vice President Jin Se-hoon dangling a blank check outright, neither could carelessly interject.

A blank check, huh...

Frankly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the terms weren't bad. No — they were extraordinary.

Report directly to Jin Se-hoon and you'd be what people called royalty — no routine expeditions, nothing. Just handle the occasional errand he wanted done, and show up for company-wide strategic raids, and that was that.

But...

I'd become a hunter to escape crawling in the dirt for money, not to start all over again. Going back into [Arc]? Only a lunatic.

Even for a recruitment pitch, that offer is ugly. Too ugly.

After the way I'd been treated in that very [Arc], I had zero intention of walking back into that garbage bin of my own free will.

And under Jin Se-hoon — famous throughout the industry for his utter incompetence — of all people? Less than zero.

Suppressing the urge to laugh out loud, I shook my head.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll have to decline."

"...What?"

Jin Se-hoon's face crumpled. The possibility of rejection had clearly never crossed his mind.

"The terms don't suit you? No, that can't be — I said a blank check, didn't I?"

"The terms are excellent. It's the affiliation that's the problem..."

I trailed off with the air of a man in a difficult spot.

"Arc Industry... if the rumors going around are anything to go by, the treatment of its employees is supposed to be dreadful."

"...What did you just say?"

"I heard it from an acquaintance. Something about politics running rampant and the actual workers getting chewed up and spat out. There's a reason turnover's that high, isn't there?"

Around the room came the sound of suppressed snorts. Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought so.

"Ha! Who's spreading that nonsense? Our [Arc] guarantees the finest treatment in the industry. Benefits, pay, systems! Not a single thing lacking!"

"Systems... huh."

Did he mean that collapsing AI operator?

Benefits? That reminded me of Choi Min-woo, whose leave days had piled up into infinity because Park Jin-chul glared whenever he tried to take one.

Pay, well... it was true that it had been decent enough.

To be this clueless about his own company's state of affairs...

I wanted to blow a raspberry in his face, but barely held it in.

At that moment, a man in a black suit who'd been standing behind Jin Se-hoon stepped forward.

Kang Mu-hyuk. A member of the Special Response Team I'd crossed paths with at the Blade Wind Graveyard — and one of Jin Se-hoon's inner circle.

"Hey now, isn't that going a bit far? The Vice President is making the offer personally. He's promising treatment on a whole different level from what the rank-and-file put up with, so what's with the bickering? This isn't the same as some ordinary employee. You'd be entering [Arc]'s royal line."

What is this, a hustler running a shakedown?

Watching him carry on like that, I found myself wondering how I'd ever survived working at companies like this.

No — come to think of it, given the way Park Jin-chul and Managing Director Han Tae-seok behaved, maybe this was the company culture.

My exasperation was still fresh when — just as I was feigning ignorance and preparing to refuse again—

"Whoa there, Vice President Jin. Aren't you coming on a little strong?"

A smooth, easygoing voice cut in.

It was the young [Dokkaebi] Ranker who'd been doing nothing but spectating — Park Sang-woo.

Friendly features, a broad sunny smile. A face seen plenty on TV as well.

"Throw a blank check in someone's face the moment you meet them, and who's going to like it? Even I'd bolt from the pressure."

He sidled naturally to my side and puffed out his chest.

"Big bro. [Arc]'s a bit of a pressure cooker, no? I've heard the rumors too. That place is brutal."

"Park Sang-woo... you little punk."

Half-minding, half-ignoring Jin Se-hoon's glare, he handed me his card.

"Aw, come on~ Fair competition, fair competition! What should I call you, anyway... Mr. Corporate Drone? Bit rude, I know, but whatever. So — how about [Dokkaebi]? Honestly, I'll admit we can't match [Arc] on the money! But you know our benefits and our atmosphere are second to none, right? Small elite teams! A family vibe! Tight-knit, everyone trusting each other with their backs. Isn't that great? And our in-house workshop does absolutely gorgeous custom work on your gear."

"...I see."

[Dokkaebi]'s reputation really was excellent.

They carried the lineage of the old hunter industry — the era when things ran on guild parties rather than corporations — a small elite company that kept that romance alive.

They even ran [Dokkaebi Workshop], staffed by master artisans, making them specialists in equipment support and development.

And given how famous they were for internal cohesion... there certainly wouldn't be any characters like Park Jin-chul or Han Tae-seok there.

Definitely a far better place than Arc, that's for sure.

But...

Not yet.

I didn't want to attach myself under anyone's wing just now. I'd only just tasted freedom, and I was still in the stage of testing the limits of my own abilities.

"It's a fine offer. [Dokkaebi]'s reputation speaks for itself. But... I don't have any desire to settle down somewhere just yet. I plan to work as a freelancer for the time being."

At that, the [Ohsung] executive who'd been watching stepped in.

"A wise choice indeed."

A dignified elder gentleman — [Ohsung]'s Director Park, whose face had graced the media more than once.

"Tying yourself down in these days, when the market hits its daily limit-up every morning, would only cost you."

He chuckled warmly, then shot a sidelong glance at Jin Se-hoon.

"Rather than getting your nose caught in some flimsy promise of plucking the stars from the sky, you're better off free to watch the market as it moves."

Director Park then courteously handed me his card as well.

"Still, if you change your mind, do let me know. We'd treat you no less handsomely."

"Big bro! The door to our workshop is always open, you know that, right? Gear repairs, commission work — just come on by. We'll do it all, no charge, no fuss."

Park Sang-woo flashed a bright grin.

I tucked their business cards away, one by one, treasuring each of them.

You never knew how a connection might bloom later on.

Naturally — except for the one Vice President Jin Se-hoon was holding out.

"......"

A hand frozen in midair. Jin Se-hoon's expression was a sight to behold.

Kang Mu-hyuk looked as if he wanted to step in, but this was neither [Arc] headquarters nor anywhere near it — this was [Salon], neutral ground in the heart of the black market. Too many eyes were watching; he knew perfectly well that making a move would only cost him.

Leaving the stunned group behind me, I gave a light nod and turned away.

"Well then — enjoy your evening."

And with that, I headed for my original destination of the day: Dr. Lee's Workshop No. 0, down on the fifth basement floor.