Today, Being a Leader Is Tough
Three days had flown by in the blink of an eye.
I could say with complete confidence that I and every employee in our company had packed those days to the brim with real work.
First, the building crew’s performance.
They finished the sky island’s foundation on day two and, starting day three, dove straight into full-scale construction and landscaping. The image we had originally planned for the sky island was the Olympus of Greek mythology—recreating the various temples and famous structures that appeared in the myths right there in the sky. The Trojan Horse, Jason’s Golden Fleece, the voyage of the Argo… It all sounded grand and impossibly difficult, but we had YouTube, the most thorough reference library imaginable. With how many Minecraft builders existed worldwide, it was actually harder to find a famous building that didn’t already have a tutorial.
Even accounting for that, this is still incredible. To get this far in only three days…
Under Na-ro-si’s direction, the temples of Zeus, Poseidon, and Athena already stood in place. A cloud-sea fishing spot that played to the sky island’s unique setting, a massive rainbow bridge, and a high-speed water elevator were all nearing completion. There was still a long road ahead, of course, but the pace was overwhelming compared to any other company.
Na-ro-si, Miho, Subnitti, Lucy, Han A-yeon, and Coco-nyang… calling them a building dream team isn’t an exaggeration.
I felt a fresh wave of pride at having recruited talent of this caliber. Other companies still carried more than a few half-portion freeloaders, after all.
But the builders weren’t the only ones deserving praise. The mining team had delivered results of their own over those three days. With me and Mayo at the head, Dorai, Chohee-chohee, and Ppogeum had worked themselves to the bone. They say even a dog that hangs around a school for three years learns to recite poetry—by now Mayo and I were basically mining veterans. An average of six hundred thousand Rena per hour came in without much trouble. The Bad Potato Company members hovered a little lower, between four and five hundred thousand. Still, everyone’s hard work added up: over three days we had gathered a total of fifty million Rena.
Someone might ask whether we had even put in ten hours a day after doing the math. Don’t compare it to solo grinding for ten hours. When you mine steadily while multitasking chat with viewers, and force your energy back up every time the mood starts to sag, a single day is enough to fry your brain. And when the same footage repeats for three straight days, both streamer and audience start to burn out. You can’t let complaints pile up too high, so you have to air things out periodically. Taking all of that into account, fifty million Rena in three days was an outstanding haul.
We also paid back twenty million to Lethal Company during that time. Our war chest is looking pretty solid.
According to the ledger Lucy had prepared, we currently held one hundred eighty-five million Rena in cash, with about twenty-seven million still outstanding in unpaid debt. Once that was cleared we would cleanly cross the two-hundred-million mark.
Two hundred million Rena. That’s an insane amount of money.
Thinking back to the vehicle auction before my regression made the figure feel even larger. The highest-priced car back then had only barely cracked ninety million. Assuming things would play out the same way this time, however, would be a mistake. O-Wang Company’s efforts, and the way reality itself had already begun to twist, meant everything was different now.
Still, with this much capital we can overwhelm any company one-on-one.
According to the rumors circulating through the community, O-Wang Company had declared a state of emergency the moment the vehicle auction notice dropped and scraped together nearly ninety million Rena in four days. With more people mining than we had, that kind of income made sense. Combined with their existing company funds they would easily clear a hundred million. Frustratingly, that was only a rough estimate—no one knew the exact numbers. Every company was carefully hiding its assets in preparation for the auction. We were doing the same, of course. Leaving money in our inventories would get us caught by viewers, so we logged in through alternate accounts, converted everything into gold Rena, and stashed it in secret warehouses.
That was why every company was currently locked in a tense staring contest. The hard labor was starting to hit its limit, yet no one knew the other side’s true wealth, so no one dared to be the first to quit the chicken game.
And that atmosphere was an opportunity for me.
Everyone has their own target and more than enough pride. If a helpful collaborator suddenly appears to scratch that itch… what kind of reaction will I get?
Stage two of my plan. The timing to execute it had finally arrived.
The effects of the public-opinion campaign had already overflowed. Whenever other companies held meetings about the vehicle auction, fans flooded in and plastered the chat.
If I had tried to manufacture public opinion out of thin air, I never would have gotten this kind of traction. But without a regressor’s knowledge, paying a high price for a mini tractor at its current specs really was being a sucker. Even if it helped with farming, mining was still by far the most efficient way to make money right now. So the viewers took that narrative, added their own conviction, and turned it into a full-throated crusade.
And no streamer can completely ignore public opinion like that.
Even the biggest corporate streamers get roasted if they go against their fans’ will. That was why I could approach each company leader in advance with peace of mind.
“So, Seo-a. You said you had something important to discuss?”
The first stop was Wang-ko, who had recently grown surprisingly close to me. Whether he was joking or serious, he kept trying to recruit me into the PUBG scene and giving me a headache, but he had a straightforward streak that made him relatively easy to talk to.
“It’s about the vehicle auction. The truth is, our company is aiming for the mini tractor.”
“What? Why would you do something that stupid? Think again, Seo-a. That thing’s a display piece with no real use. The special ability is pathetic.”
Watching a competitor voluntarily walk into a trap and still trying to stop them—Wang-ko really was a man of consistent character. He preferred a clean, head-on fight, I supposed.
“Other companies might see it that way, but we’re a little different. You already know we’ve been farming a lot for a long time, right? You’ve even visited our big farm in person.”
“Ah, that place. I remember. You basically worked the Lethal Company people like slaves. I was shocked that day. I thought I drove my own guys pretty hard, but next to you I looked like a softie.”
“……That’s a bit of an exaggeration. Anyway, we’re planning to open a large restaurant on the sky island we’re building this time. As content, we’re also making a maid café.”
“Oh! That’s fresh. You’ve got good ideas, Seo-a. Rena World is great overall, but it really is missing fun little attractions like that.”
“Right. On top of that we want to sell food and alcohol to people, which means we’ll need a huge amount of crops. That’s why the mini tractor would be a big help.”
“Yeah? Does selling food actually make money, though?”
“Come on. Honestly, you’d be lucky just to cover labor costs. If you want real money you mine. But if we take customers, run a shop, and banter back and forth, it’ll create broadcast angles. We have to give our employees content material somehow.”
“Damn, Seo-a. You’re still so young and yet… Hah! I don’t even know what our own executives are doing. We really need talent like you over in the PUBG scene.”
“…….”
The alibi I had prepared in advance seemed to have landed perfectly. I didn’t let the opening slip and kept pushing.
“That’s our position. O-Wang Company is probably going after the sports car, right? As the number-one company on the server you need at least that kind of vehicle for the ‘aura’ to hold up, don’t you?”
“Ahem! That’s still classified.”
“Of course, of course. Anyway, here’s my proposal. I’d appreciate it if O-Wang Company didn’t spitefully throw an oversized bid at a mini tractor you don’t even want. If you do that for us, we’ll help you in return.”
“What kind of help?”
“If you ever find yourselves short on funds while competing against other companies in the auction, we’ll give you an interest-free loan.”
“Interest-free loan? Seo-a, are you serious?”
Wang-ko immediately shot back, excitement clear in his voice. I had expected exactly this reaction, so I simply nodded at a leisurely pace.
“Yes. Just so you know in advance, the maximum is fifty million Rena. Honestly, I think the sports car suits O-Wang Company best.”
“Seo-a! You’re going to make this Wang-ko cry! My subordinates only ever think about going on strike. The second the vehicle auction ends, we’re starting your PUBG training. I’ll teach you everything from the ground up.”
“…….”
No, I already told you I’m done with PUBG, old man.
Still, our interests lined up cleanly enough that persuading Wang-ko went smoothly.
A short while later I arrived at the traditional Korean village that served as headquarters for Partner & Tofu Company. I cleared my throat a few times in front of the gate, preparing to jack my voice up into a higher register. Soon Dananyang, leader of Partner Company, came out to greet me after hearing I had arrived. I put on the face of someone reuniting with long-lost family and ran straight to her.
“Nanyang unnie!”
“Oh. Yeah, Seo-a. You said you had something to talk about regarding the vehicle auction?”
Hmph. These rotten viewers keep slandering me without even realizing this is all part of the big picture.
Ignoring the scolding in chat, I steadily carried out stage two of the operation on Dananyang as well.
Sigh. Being a leader is tough today too.