Signing Off—for Now
Sudden words made me tilt my head, and the masked man hammered out another chat message.
A team, huh.
From the talk of affiliation, it sounded like he meant a pro team. Was this guy someone connected to the Soul Frame pro scene?
The moment I denied it, a ding rang out—an external message alert from outside the capsule.
Oh ho, APK NoSurrender?
One of the players listed in Miley's report.
A guy who mains bruiser and tank heroes, they said. Known as one of the top two for his aggressive playstyle—sticking to ranged heroes and disrupting their casts.
With the Soul Frame World Heroes tournament wrapped up and the season over, NoSurrender must've been running casual ranked games during his break to keep his senses sharp.
Using the Professor sub-account for practice? Or maybe to log playtime on multiple heroes and throw off rival teams.
'Eh, since he got caught by me already, probably just practice.'
Still, the class difference was clear. A pro like him could pilot even an off-meta pick like Professor—the polar opposite of his bruiser mains—and truck normals like it was a mismatch.
'And for him to ask me that...'
A recruitment pitch?
Pretending to mull it over, I fired off a message to Department Head Cha. Minder had its perks—no one could see my fingers twitching in midair while typing, so I could sneak around undetected.
Hm. While Department Head Cha was digging, Miley must've checked the chat log and jumped in. Fast as ever.
Made sense—with all the Soul Frame knowledge I'd crammed into her brain to help me out, she could respond quicker than he could.
Is that so...
I could picture their game plan. Minder's sustained DPS was weak, but its burst nukes and surprise assassinations made it a sneaky sub-dealer fit.
'And they're eyeing me as the candidate?'
Obviously.
No one else—no one but me—could handle Minder like that. I was the only option.
The odd part was the pro making the move himself instead of management...
'Whatever, doesn't matter.'
I had no intention of accepting anyway.
Not when a hilarious idea had already sparked in my head.
I sent that off, then glanced up.
The mask—no, NoSurrender—still waiting patiently for my reply.
VR had its downsides; no heartbeat or tells to read tension. But he had to be sweating. That was enough.
Time to crank it up.
A chat line ripe for misunderstanding.
Then, "accidentally" toggled friend chat to public.
Boom.
The chat erupted into chaos in seconds.
NoSurrender visibly flustered by my out-of-left-field reply. With quick Cognitive Acceleration control, I flipped friend chat private again before he could respond.
His messages wouldn't hit the stream now.
Soon enough—maybe getting word from outside—he pieced it together and panicked.
"No, wait—this..."
And with that.
I killed the broadcast.
-Hissss!
The hydraulic hiss of the virtual machine now sounded almost refreshing.
'Is this why people listen to ASMR?'
Musing that, I stepped out—and spotted Department Head Cha sprinting toward me from afar.
"Chairman! Chaaairman!"
He barreled in like he was about to hug me.
Who could blame him?
This stunt had saved a chunk on marketing costs.
No matter how much cash I threw around, cost-cutting was sacred to these salarymen—key to their performance reviews.
Still...
'Ugh, he's ugly.'
I'd bought an extra virtual machine for the office to chat smoothly with TS Media staff during streams. Now, seeing his face, I regretted it a bit.
"Stop. Right there."
Thankfully, Miley—sharing my refined tastes—halted his charge.
"The chairman's skin is glistening through sweat-drenched clothes from excessive Cognitive Acceleration. And you try to embrace her? Are you slyly slaking your grotesque lusts on her right now?"
Her icy tone laced with a terrifying edge made him tremble in horror.
"N-no! Absolutely not! What kind of crime is that—child endangerment?!"
"Then back off. About ten meters."
"Y-yes?"
Unable to withstand her glare, he retreated from his machine—only to hit the office wall, stuck in an awkward shudder. TS Media's vibe was thoroughly wrecked, naturally.
"...What's that about?"
David Kim, just entering, tilted his head at the sight.
"Proper distance from perverts."
"No idea what he did, but ease up. Isn't poor Cha pitiful enough? Already getting the cold shoulder for helping land that president in jail."
"...? Wasn't it his own fault?"
The original gold-digger and gold-digger 2 wrapped their banter.
Lately, the two had been quieter than before. They'd used to growl like beagles denied a walk whenever they crossed paths.
'Guess they worked something out.'
Or maybe my benevolence had tamed them. I'd reined in those rowdy cultists, after all—taming a pair of gold-diggers was child's play. Victory for human reason!
"This quarter's fund management report."
"Hand it over."
I scanned the report David passed me.
Details later; big-picture asset growth first.
"Hm. Managed assets up $2.3 billion?"
"Yes. We caught a nice gain this time."
That put my total at $22.5 billion. Current exchange... just shy of 30 trillion won?
"Am I not the richest in cars anymore?"
"You are, actually. Mirae Motors' chairman's disclosed assets are just under 28 trillion. Undisclosed ones notwithstanding, you're still ahead."
"Oho, industry number two."
Not really, of course.
He wielded real power over Mirae Motors Group; I was just a cash hoarder. Still, more money than that baldy? Mood booster.
Glancing up mid-thought, I caught David's lip twitching. Hm, interesting. David Kim.
"Come here, David."
"Pardon? Ah, yes."
I reached to pat his head—then remembered: not Miley, but a balding middle-aged guy. Settled for a shoulder pat instead.
"Good work, David."
"Th-thank you."
"Expect a nice quarterly bonus."
"...Understood, Chairman!"
Cha, watching, grumbled.
"Why's he getting shoulder pats while I'm wall-plastered...?"
"If you've breath to complain, why not check APK news like Team Lead Lee over there? Far healthier, no?"
But Miley's pressure shrank him again. Looked like rubber-man material.
Rubber or Rubberman, results mattered more.
"Department Head Cha."
"Yes, Chairman."
"How'd that reporter tip pan out?"
Wiping down with the towel Miley handed me, I asked. His eyes lit up, grin splitting ear-to-ear.
"Hahaha! Your acting sold it perfectly! Thought about claiming credit, but no need—they bit hard."
He had Team Lead Lee pass Miley a tablet. She took it with a sour look, then offered it politely.
Let's see.
"Soul Frame's popularity is no joke. Eight articles from this thin scoop."
"Gaming press swarms like that, but yeah—solid pickup. Source wasn't that juicy, but APK's slump made it timely."
"APK's reaction?"
He shrugged.
"No clue. They've sized it up, though. Guaranteed not thrilled."
"Baek, seriously..."
NoSurrender—Baek Jihyeok—sighed, dodging his manager's gaze. The white-haired old manager started to speak, clamped his mouth, then let out a deep sigh.
"How'd you fall for something like that? Aigoo."
The head coach nearby muttered.
"Articles are up—press is swarming. Community's buzzing too... Won't die quietly. Talk about bad luck."
"Aigoo, aigoo. What a mess."
Baek groaned. Feeling like a bully toward the elderly soured his stomach with guilt.
The manager probably held back for that reason.
Despite his mild looks, APK's manager had a rep as a sly fox from his keyboard-pro days. Tormenting people? His specialty.
Eager to impress, the coach gnashed his teeth.
"That streamer's behind it. Matches Baek's story and chat replays 100%. Dropped that line then killed chat sharing instantly. Even the replay edit skips just that part."
"Who doesn't know that? Jeez."
The manager sighed again, fixing Baek with a piercing stare from narrowed eyes. Baek's breath caught.
"Community reaction?"
The coach tsked.
"As expected... pandemonium."
Another sigh.
"We're not exactly beloved anyway, right?"