Reverse Interview (1)
My name is Seo Han-gyeol. My parents named me this way, hoping I'd live steadfast and true. And maybe because of that, at 13, I dove headfirst into subculture—what they call "otaku" stuff—and at 24, I'm still hopelessly devoted.
Damn it. Dad, Mom, why'd you set my nickname to this? Changing it in Korea is a pain in the ass.
Of course, they probably just wanted me to focus single-mindedly on my studies, but the world isn't that forgiving. How could I ignore a world where beautiful girls save the day, shining brighter than the sun? There's a person in there!!
Balancing otaku pursuits with studies, I graduated from the Creative Writing department. Then, as usual, I bombed another interview the second I crossed the threshold, came home, washed my feet, chugged a beer, and crashed.
"?"
The next morning, I woke up in a strange room, on a strange bed. And right in front of my eyes floated a square window straight out of webnovels—a so-called status window.
Earth's Greatest Secretary!
📍 Type: Mission, Linked
🎁 Goal: Become the Earth's Greatest Secretary!
📈 Reward: Paid sequentially based on progress
I read the status window and just blanked out. Half-propped up in bed, I stared at it vacantly.
What the hell did this thing eat?
As a lit major, I had the basics down—isekai, regression, possession, status windows. Otaku life and webnovels are inseparable.
Everyone else's status windows showed stats or hunter ranks crystal clear, but mine was mumbling some incomprehensible Buddhist chant.
What's a quest? And secretary? I bombed that interview yesterday—what the...?
I slapped my cheeks to snap out of it.
"Get it together."
With 11 years of subculture experience shining through as the ultimate "Parents' Spine-Breaker," I was sure: I'd possessed into some world's storyline.
Half out of my mind, I methodically checked where I was and who I was.
Please not post-apocalypse, dark fantasy, or medieval... No way I'm the duke's wastrel son beating maids yesterday or a magic family's third genius son.
Conclusion: All groundless fears. My place was unchanged—two-room, one bath. My tiny, precious monthly rental intact.
"Oh."
Looks improved a bit. Not a total stranger, but maxing out my original frame's potential.
After poking around forever, I was certain.
This is...
"Inside Raising an S-Rank Hunter."
My eyes stung with injustice. I'd devoted my life to so many other games—why this one? An idle game I downloaded drunk and deleted the next day...
"Was it my shitty spending habits?"
Damn. Should've bought the starter pack (12,000 won, VAT incl.) to appease the devs?
I racked my foggy memories for details—buzz!
My phone rang. Modern human reflexes kicked in; I checked the message instantly.
We highly evaluate your documents and abilities verified in the second interview.
Date: 202X. XX. XX (Tue) 14:00 (Strict punctuality. No margin for even one second.)
Location: Nebula HQ, 3F Event Hall.
Required: ID, neat attire.
"Impossibility is merely a matter of cost."
The eternal leader in portrait technology, Nebula Group.
※ This message contains confidential info; leaks may result in penalties.
"Ah."
Seeing "Nebula Group" triggered a lightning-fast info dump.
So...
"...It's the evil organization. Right here."
I blinked in disbelief. The message clearly said "final interview."
Before possession/regression/transfer, I'd already passed several rounds.
"If I bail now...?"
[How dare you mock us! Die!!!]
"Nooooo!"
The obvious future made me scream. No joke—in the game's brief story, Nebula was pure evil incarnate.
Plus, this was a hunter fantasy world. One teleporter hunter dispatched, and Seo Han-gyeol, 31st-gen Seo clan, becomes human takoyaki that day...
But flunking obviously in the interview was risky too.
"Then how'd I make finals...?"
Worse, they might think, "This bastard's faking incompetence?" and add insult to lethal injury.
Balancing on a knife's edge, I desperately pondered.
And finally—
"!!!!"
Perfect solution!
Right!
"...Might as well play the extreme efficiency freak."
As a lit grad, I knew extreme efficiency nuts or psychopaths were hated traits.
Nebula masquerades as a perfect megacorp despite being evil. Any normal interviewer wouldn't hire a ticking time bomb like that!
"Goal: quick, safe rejection."
Good.
"I got this!"
I calmed my terrified bunny heart, chanting "I can survive" inwardly, eyes squeezed shut, praying to every god I knew.
Days after the interview.
"......"
The message came.
Due to one being's high evaluation of your talent, among countless applicants, you alone are assigned to the Secretary Office.
Position: CEO Exclusive Secretary (Direct Report to CEO)
First Day: 202X. XX. XX (Mon) 07:00 (Wait in Nebula Tower lobby)
Compensation: Industry-top salary and benefits. Negotiable with HR.
"Impossibility is merely a matter of cost."
The eternal leader in portrait technology, Nebula Group.
※ Contract signing immediate upon arrival; resignation only with company approval.
"Why...?"
I despaired. Every phrase was brutally ominous.
Since when does quitting need company permission? Slave contract much?
And.
"Industry-top salary—what's that about...?"
In-story, Nebula was money-obsessed. 100 lives vs. 10 billion won? Instant billions.
Put bluntly, Earth's greediest, Korea's top misers were Nebula.
Offering me top pay?
"What crime are they dumping on me?!"
This treatment only makes sense for a crime fall guy or human sacrifice—not otherwise.
"Waaahhh... Mommm..."
I wailed at a future darker than a storm cloud. Tears blurred my vision.
Interview day. After Seo Han-gyeol's session.
"......"
"......"
"......"
A frigid silence hung over the three interviewers at the long table.
"...You all heard that, right?"
A balding middle-aged man spoke in a trembling voice. The other two nodded, sharing the sentiment without words.
The middle-aged woman in the center recalled the moment.
"Situational response: Company secrets are leaking; eliminating one innocent civilian blocks the crisis. What would you do?"
Seo Han-gyeol answered without hesitation.
"Eliminate immediately. Maintaining one civilian's life plus lifetime earnings doesn't even hit 0.001% of Nebula Group's annual revenue. Lowering profits with emotional judgment is dereliction of duty as an employee."
"...!"
Of course, he was thinking, Crazy! In that scenario, the boss quits and apologizes—why touch civilians?! But can't say that... Act psycho. Yeah!
But the woman still got chills recalling his cold eyes on "dereliction." She never knew it was fear overflow, frozen stiff.
The young man on the far left wiped cold sweat from his neck with tissue.
"His next answer was wild too. Colleague collapses from overwork..."
"Oh, I remember. He'd immediately review replacing with part-timers or low-wage temps."
"That's not all. Asked his thoughts on the collapsed colleague—'Irreparable parts are more efficient to replace than repair.'"
"Ugh...!"
Seo Han-gyeol had thought, Of course send to hospital and I pull all-nighter! But might pass me. Toughen up!
No mercy among interviewers, alas.
They gravely debated handling this storm candidate, report went up, coincidences piled, and the chairwoman saw the video. Seo Han-gyeol's luck was rotten.
"Kwaaaang!!!"
Moment of chairwoman's decree to hire, he bawled in despair in his room.
Unlucky.