The Price of Complaint (2)
Dad: "Sweetie? You're doing all right over there, aren't you?"
Jiwoo: "Yeah, Dad! Don't worry so much. I think I might even end up making more money!"
Dad: "Money? More than the billion won you mentioned last time? How much more?"
Jiwoo: "Sorry, that part I can't tell you yet."
Hwang Jiwoo called her parents on a regular basis. The confidentiality agreement kept her from sharing anything specific, so she limited herself to the essentials: she was doing well, and she'd be earning good money.
Dad: "Nothing too hard about it?"
Jiwoo: "Nope. Even when it's hard, it's not that hard."
In truth, of course it was hard. Claiming otherwise would have been a flat-out lie. Even after she'd collapsed from the physical conditioning, Baek Jinwoo had kept ratcheting up the intensity—and above all, with the Fire Dragon Mage stationed at her side around the clock, she had no personal time to speak of. A life of nothing but training, every last drop of dopamine cut off. The average person couldn't have lasted a week.
'But.'
She had to endure. It was only a hundred days. A hundred days at an hourly rate of 41.66 million won, receiving the finest coaching that every player in the country dreamed of. Grab any passerby off the street and ask if they wanted the job, and they'd probably sink to their knees begging for it. Anyone with a conscience had to see this through.
'If I really do end up with a hundred billion won...'
There was so much she wanted to do. Buy her dear parents a house of their own, pick out a lovely home and a nice car for herself... Then she could park the rest in high-yield dividend stocks or real estate and enjoy financial freedom. As for playing? She could do it as a hobby, or go all in!
'Of course.'
It would be even better to learn properly and make the national team. And then—yesterday, she'd caught a flicker of genuine surprise on Baek Jinwoo's face.
'I'm doing well, aren't I?'
Fwoosh!
Hwang Jiwoo's eyes sparkled with hope as she watched Pokryongi training beside her.
"Jinwoo?"
Clack! Yoo Jia slid open the meeting room door and stepped inside.
Ever since testing Hwang Jiwoo the day before, Baek Jinwoo had spent the whole day turning the question over in his mind.
'Raise Hwang Jiwoo, or not?'
Honestly, there was no downside to nurturing a talented player. It wouldn't take long, and it cost him nothing—Hungyo handled all the real training anyway. If anything, Hungyo was a strange one whose life satisfaction climbed the fuller his training schedule became.
The problem was—
"You want to form a guild?"
"Yes. Yubaek stays as it is, and I'd like to place one guild beneath it."
"What brought this on all of a sudden...? Don't tell me it's because of that Hwang Jiwoo girl you've been training."
As expected of Yoo Jia. Nothing got past her.
"That's part of it. There are other reasons too."
"Other reasons such as...?"
"You remember the gang infiltration incident, right? My disciples just happened to be in YooBaek City that day, thank goodness. Now imagine they hadn't been. It's a horrifying thought. And there's no guarantee something like that won't happen again."
Baek Jinwoo wanted more rankers he could trust living in YooBaek City.
"...So you want to build up your strength."
He did. Guild was just the pretty word for it; call it what it was, and it was a kind of armed organization. A legal one, sanctioned by the government.
Baek Jinwoo had many people to protect. It used to be family alone, but the circle of people precious to him kept widening. Yoo Jia was one; his four disciples were another. The employees of Yubaek were his people now, too. And to protect them? He needed power. That much was certain.
"That said, I'm not looking to make it anything grand. Just a small, elite outfit I can fill with exactly the people I want? That would suit me perfectly."
Riffraff were as good as useless anyway. One proper player was worth more than a hundred mediocre ones.
"Hmm, I like the sound of that?"
The idea had apparently whetted Yoo Jia's appetite as well.
"Honestly, earning money through a guild is far easier than earning it through solo management."
"That's a relief."
"Ahem. Guild permits are a headache to obtain, but with a reputation like yours, Jinwoo, I'd say we can push one through. We have Uncle Changseok in our corner, too. And our facilities already put most guilds to shame, hehe."
"Fair point."
Even Korea's Big Three, put side by side, couldn't match YooBaek City's grandeur. All they had were leases on expensive Seoul real estate.
Someday... the day would come when Yubaek would build a Seoul branch of its own, wouldn't it?
"Then it's settled! I'll draw it all up to your liking and report back. You know me—so long as it's your idea, Jinwoo, I'm ready to throw my full weight behind it."
"I'll thank you for the sentiment, at least. Oh, and—could you possibly track down a few summons for me?"
"What kind of summons?"
Baek Jinwoo wrote out a list: ice-attribute summons from his old lineup. One A-rank, three B-ranks, and a single C-rank.
Of course, he had no intention of transferring ownership to Hwang Jiwoo right away. Her test wasn't over yet. Skill, will, loyalty—only when every trial was complete would these become the gift, presented as her condition for joining the guild. And if she didn't pass?
'Then I'll use them myself. Oh well.'
The setup had obvious limits, but it was a good one—famous, once upon a time, as a broken combo. He'd find a use for it someday.
Gangnam. Baekho headquarters.
Knock, knock.
Ilwol's Guild Master and Vice Guild Master, Ahn Gijeong and Hwang Juwon, rapped on Baekho's door.
"Well, well! Welcome, hyung-nims!"
Baekho's Guild Master, Park Ho, greeted the pair with a broad smile.
"We see each other every single weekend. What's the occasion for inviting us out?"
Hwang Juwon—fifty-three, and the elder statesman of the national team—let out a hearty laugh. Ilwol's rankers skewed older on average. Nobody knew quite why, but that was simply how the scene had settled: players favored Baekho up through their late thirties, and Ilwol from their mid-forties onward. Early forties? Fifty-fifty. And as an aside, those in their twenties went to Arirang, while teenagers flocked to Carpe Diem...
"Please, have a seat first."
Park Ho ushered them in with every courtesy. Naturally, he had a separate reason for inviting them here. After a stretch of pleasant small talk to loosen the mood, he got down to business.
"Hyung-nims."
"Hm?"
"Don't you think Hong Ari and the Carpe Diem kids have been acting a little strange lately?"
This was talk that had already made the rounds inside Baekho. Hong Ari, Ki Jaehyeok, Kang Jiho. All three had suddenly grown absurdly strong, and as it turned out, they were receiving private coaching in YooBaek City—together with Arirang's Oh Seon-young. A blatant breach of contract, the claim went. Favoritism! Corruption!
"Hmm, so that's what's been going on?"
Hwang Juwon laughed.
"No wonder I couldn't keep up with the kids anymore... And here I was thinking they were just developing at an exceptional pace because they were young."
"This is hardly a laughing matter, hyung-nim. Baek Jinwoo received an additional trillion won in national subsidies. The man takes the nation's money to teach—how can he be allowed to teach some students more than others?"
"Hmm."
Hwang Juwon closed his eyes, thought for a moment, then opened them again.
"So?"
"Yes?"
"So what exactly do you plan to do? March over there and demand answers from Baek Jinwoo?"
"That's right."
"Hmm."
Hwang Juwon caught Park Ho's intent in an instant. So that was it. This national team carried four Baekho rankers: Kang Geonho, Park Ho, Bok Jeonghui, Seo Sangwon. Add Ilwol's two, and the plan was for all six to lodge the complaint together. Strength in numbers, as always.
"Think it through. Baek Jinwoo? Skilled, and a fine teacher—I'll grant you that. I'm one of those who believes he may well be the reincarnation of the famous Jinugod, so of course I do. But if he keeps pushing only Arirang and Carpe Diem the way he is now? The rest of us will be weeded out, plain and simple."
"And with that little speech, you're asking Ilwol to lend you its weight?"
"That's right."
"And instead of a complaint—what about sweetening the pot?"
"...You want to offer something more to a man who's already pocketed a trillion won?"
"It all sounds fine, but it's far too risky. What if Baek Jinwoo takes it the wrong way, turns his back on us, and shuts us out completely?"
For Hwang Juwon, it was the obvious concern. What looked like a legitimate objection from their side might read very differently from Baek Jinwoo's. Giving extra coaching to the more promising players wasn't against the law, after all. At the end of the day, whom Baek Jinwoo chose to teach more was Baek Jinwoo's call.
"Hoya."
"Yes, hyung-nim."
"You're being hasty. I know full well Baekho wants to keep its grip on the top spot in Korea. But you have to give credit where credit is due. Baek Jinwoo is strong, and he has every right to use his knowledge and know-how however he pleases."
"...Still. Losing our number-one spot because of one man—Baek Jinwoo, of all people—it's just too unfair."
"And what will crying 'unfair' get you? If you have complaints, get stronger. Frankly, the reason Ilwol isn't number one is that we're weak. Isn't that so?"
"Baekho is not weak. The country's second- and third-largest conglomerates, MK Group and Mirae Group, stand behind us, and we hold deep connections in politics as well, party headquarters included. Not even Baek Jinwoo can afford to ignore that."
"..."
Whew.
Hwang Juwon let out a long sigh. This was Baekho's problem, right here: their Guild Master and Vice Guild Master were simply too young. Ho, the Guild Master, was thirty-five, and Geonho, their rank one, thirty-three. Not children, exactly, but not yet mature enough to steer an organization of this size—and young enough to run plenty hot on emotion. The age when the blood boils!
Granted, he understood their position. Their hard-won standing was threatening to crumble over a single player's favoritism—of course that stung. But that was Baekho's problem, not Ilwol's.
"Fighting? Fine by me."
Hwang Juwon said.
"Just leave us out of it."
"Hyung-nim!"
"You do understand, don't you? Dragging someone down a road whose ending is written in plain sight—that's discourtesy in itself."
It was a highway to the grave with the destination in full view. The world had already been turned on its head. Connections, bloodlines, conglomerates, politicians? None of it mattered anymore. If a single player's power was overwhelming, that settled everything. Look at Britain's Rachel. Pool together every corporate chairman and political heavyweight on Earth, and their combined influence still wouldn't match one word from her.
"And frankly, you haven't even asked Baek Jinwoo yet, have you? Whether he'd invite us to YooBaek City too."
"We'll ask, of course. I'm talking about what happens if he refuses."
"Tsk, tsk—then listen here, you rascal!"
Hwang Juwon rose from his seat.
"You ask first, then you think. And of course—leave us out of that, too."
Baek Jinwoo surely had his reasons for teaching the people he taught. And into that, they would barge in and whine, Teach me too!?
'Good grief.'
It would obviously rub him the wrong way. Hwang Juwon had no intention of earning Baek Jinwoo's dislike. If they proved themselves, the man would teach them of his own accord.
'If I'm being honest with myself...'
The reality was that even the current curriculum was all they could do to keep up with.
Aigoo. He sighed inwardly.
'Well, well. Baekho's days are numbered, too.'
An organization, above all else, needed a sharp leader at its head. To survive, you had to read the fast-shifting currents and slip into them like water. The tide of the era belonged not to Baekho but to Baek Jinwoo. Immerse yourself in that current, and even if first place was out of reach, at least you would survive.
"Hyung-nim, are you truly sure you won't regret this?"
"...Worry about your own regrets, and take an old man's advice to heart."
The reason Baekho had managed to hold first place all this time was probably nothing more than luck. Because Korea's overall level had been the worst. Baekho was what happened when a pondful of frogs in a well banded together—rankers who'd grown friendly with one another and formed a guild. Its executives had skill, sure, but they couldn't help being short on experience of the wider world.
'Well, well.'
Now this was going to be interesting. How would it all turn out?