Earth's Worst Chairman (1)
Aigoo. If I'd messed up even a little, what would've happened?
Luck was on my side, or I might've ended up as just Seo Han-gyeol—former Seo Han-gyeol, Seo Han-gyeol codfish jerky, and so on... a corpse so mangled no one would call it human anymore.
With the tension finally draining away, I couldn't even speak. I quietly caught my breath and approached Myeong Gi-sa.
It wasn't far to begin with, so I closed the distance quickly. The monster noises echoing from all sides had gone silent too.
I'm alive. I made it.
Chungcheong-style cotton candy Seo Han-gyeol had taken another step forward today! Even if it was just the size of an ant's fingernail, confidence welled up inside me.
No matter how much I hated Nebula, after risking my life(?) to show my sincerity, the Heavy Equipment Knights couldn't just bail entirely.
Of course, if they refuse, I'll beg like a dog.
Yep yep. My cartilage was softer and squishier than an XX mattress. If folding me up a few times could save them billions...
I'll become Human Z Flip for you.
By now, I'd gotten pretty close to Myeong Gi-sa. But there were... a lot of people around?
'?'
One of the chattering uncles spotted me and went, "Whoa, he's here!" His eyes bulged wide.
Like a signal, the murmurs spread rapidly through the whole group. The knights gathered around Myeong Gi-sa all turned to stare at me in unison.
A spotlight of unwilling attention! I desperately pretended to be fine and approached Myeong Gi-sa slowly.
Honestly, halfway there I kept thinking, 'Sorry, think I have the wrong address. Hope your family stays healthy.' Bow and bolt?
That uncle's eyes bulged like a trainer stumbling into an Irochi XXmon in the tall grass of a 16-bit game. A strangely familiar reaction. Déjà vu crawled up my spine.
This...
"......"
I'd seen that look somewhere before.
"This guy's the real deal?"
Like a cue, the murmurs spread through the group.
"What? So one guy really did all this?!"
"Well, Myeong Gi-sa wouldn't spout nonsense. But still..."
Ah.
Now I remembered.
Nebula employees...!
Just like those new hires I met in the lobby! Expressions half shock, half awe!
Truth be told, I hadn't planned to keep up the act with the Heavy Equipment Knights. The psycho secretary bit wasn't even my choice from the start. I had to do it just to survive.
I didn't want to piss off a lady who'd nuke the entire secretary office on a whim!
Later, much later—after getting chummy with the Heavy Equipment Knights. Sharing makgeolli, letting them nibble my cotton candy a bit, escaping the soul-crushing corp life for some haha-ho-ho banter with the uncles. That was the dream.
Was the dream...
Fuuuuck.
But what the hell was this?
"A single hunter wielding his ability on this scale? It's not just different in type—it's on par with the [Commissioner]."
Whispers everywhere. Baseless gossip from some uncle made my skin crawl.
No way, right?
With growing unease, I tested it by brushing the mud off my bag.
-Pat pat...
The uncles all let out impressed hums and gossiped more.
"As expected, wide-area stabilization is child's play for him. That's no rookie handiwork."
"Doesn't look mana-exhausted at all. It's not just about total mana capacity."
"Even with top-tier control, the anchor hit 98% overload! No individual could manage that!"
"Nebula's brought in a monster. Tsk tsk..."
"......"
Monster? Sir, I had XX Flake cereal with milk for breakfast today. Ever seen a monster eat that? I'm just an office worker.
But seeing their vibes, if I cried and explained here, they'd just twist it some other way. After weighing it internally a few times, tears in my eyes, I made the call.
I have to keep acting here too.
First impressions were already screwed, so better lean into what I'm good at, what feels natural. Show emotion and one day get over-suppressed...
Those bulging forearms would turn me into mung bean pancake real quick.
Yeah. Born human, die human. Can't go out looking like a fried dough thing made of mung beans and flour.
I swallowed hard, eyeing the uncles' rugged, muscular builds.
Anyway.
98%, huh. I'm decent at math, you know. At least through elementary school, I was top of the class.
I knew percent meant per hundred, and with the cold gaze of a former Oksan Elementary math whiz, it hit me: I nearly died at 98%—like 9.8 out of 10.
Walking away with all limbs intact was like hitting a 2% lottery jackpot. Nearly missed the Magical Girl Mikaru finale next week for a coffin.
No wonder my gacha luck sucked lately. Blew 11,900 won (VAT incl.) on a truck pull and got shafted with a useless cat. All that saved luck exploded here.
Aged ten years. Cold sweat poured down inside my fancy suit—good thing the fabric was thick. Just hide the shaky legs and no one'd know I was spooked...
Meanwhile, the knights around Myeong Gi-sa stared in unison. Unwilling spotlight! I desperately faked composure and approached slowly.
Run? But do I need to? Fires seem out now... Nah. One grab from those arms is three weeks minimum recovery.
I glanced elsewhere.
Left at 3 o'clock, slide between crane supports? Nah, their strides would catch me in three steps. Fake faint? Nah, just delays the trip and gets me fired for wasting time. That's scarier.
Voluntary quit vs. firing are worlds apart. The latter changes your household registry from land of the living to the dead.
I love banter, but not with King Yama.
Overthinking delayed me too long. Past the point of no return.
I clamped my mouth shut and advanced.
"......"
"......"
"Hmph."
Like they'd rehearsed, the uncles around Myeong Gi-sa slowly parted. Hulking figures lined my slow path left and right.
......Aaaah.
So intimidating... My insides were melting from the pressure.
At the center was the man I sought: Myeong Gi-sa. He watched me with sunken, heavy eyes.
Ex-elite salarymen were different. I desperately met his sharp gaze.
Me and Myeong Gi-sa facing off, surrounded by testosterone-fueled breathing in this human-walled colosseum. Belatedly, I realized:
Wrong move.
Should've just run. ...I can still walk out on my own legs, right? Right?
Incredible.
Myeong Gi-sa thought that as he quietly watched the approaching man.
Briefcase in hand. Tailored suit. Eyes behind glasses so cold they seemed to pierce the essence of the world.
In truth, Seo Han-gyeol's clothes weren't even remotely clean. Shoes torn from leaping rocks and rebar, suit caked in thick dirt. Even his glasses had a hairline crack.
But... Nothing's changed.
That gaze. Judging all things as mere obligations, icy as ever—just like when he first arrived.
And that one trait devoured all other meanings.
Myeong Gi-sa recalled the Heavy Equipment Knights who'd silently parted for him. They weren't usually kind to outsiders. Lacking skill? Never make the cut. Sane mind? They'd join a corp guild or law enforcement.
Those who joined had talent for anywhere, but a heart-stuck stone made them groan forever. Madmen clutching wounds others shrug off lifelong.
Yet Seo Han-gyeol drew natural respect from them without a word.
They all know.
Power rivaling the [Commissioner]—one of Korea's three Rank 1 hunters—and unmatched mana control any corp would drool over, yet he shunned wealth and glory.
Opposite: first to the front in crisis.
Knights were crazy, not insane. No idiot covers eyes from the blazing sun right in front.
That's why the prideful Heavy Equipment Knights just snorted "Hmph" at Nebula's secretary and yielded the path.
Seo Han-gyeol faced Myeong Gi-sa. He slowly spoke, words shocking.
Meanwhile, Seol Hwi was hearing the investigation results she'd ordered from Yu Seo-yeong.
"So, who is it?"
99th floor chairman's office. Plush sofa, massive display case. Seol Hwi sat legs crossed, waiting for Yu Seo-yeong to speak.
The trigger was simple.
'...You really want everything investigated?'
'Ever seen me joke?'
A few days ago. Yu Seo-yeong had nodded reluctantly. Joining Nebula meant compromising morals—money lured her here. Minor crimes like privacy invasion? No blink.
But...
"Credit card records, signal intercepts and call taps, transaction history, location pings every 10 minutes updated. That the order?"
"Good memory."
"......"
Isn't this overkill? Still, she did it. Complain? Become chairman yourself. Payer's king.
Results: Convenience store Seo Han-gyeol frequented every few days. And the female part-timer who appeared like a ghost each time.
Seol Hwi—barely keeping her new keeper in check, body heating up—was flipping out at some street pebble trying to slip into her keeper's pocket.
"Why so quiet? Spill it."
"......"
Seol Hwi smiled brightly. Smiling, but not funny at all. Of course—lips up, eyes promising Han River drum-can dive for anyone.
Yu Seo-yeong felt rare conscience pangs.
"Seong Ha-yun."
"Seong Ha-yun, Seong Ha-yun..."
A pause.
"Ah."
Memory sparked; Seol Hwi grinned ferally.
"Atlas's hunting dog."
"Her official title is Strategic Business Division Head—"
"Hunting dog."
"...Seong Ha-yun of [Ice Wall]—"
"Bitch."
"......"
"Team Leader Yu Seo-yeong."
"...Yes."
"Kinda miss you?"
Aaah. After three years by Seol Hwi's side, Yu Seo-yeong could read her mind sans words. Seol Hwi studies? She'd have a master's.
"...I'll get her work hours pronto."
Sorry. But business is business. Yu Seo-yeong inwardly offered deep condolences to Seong Ha-yun, facing the tactical nuke.