Odeokhwan, My New Gaming Pet
My new playmate is really fun. ………… Let's go mess with Shin Chang-seok. I could zip through the ventilation ducts and get there in seconds, but I'm in such a good mood today—better take the stairs. Trot trot.
Huh, even up on the ground floor, there's hardly anyone around. It's never crowded, but today it's especially empty. This time of day, you usually bump into a few agents or staff in the halls. Not today, though. None at all.
I reached his office and pushed open the door. Empty. Lights off, monitor dark. The desk is a mess of paper stacks, cold coffee, and unopened pill packets scattered everywhere.
Not here. From dropping by to play now and then, I know Shin Chang-seok is basically nailed to this room from around 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. Weekends too. That glasses-wearing disaster guy once observed his schedule and calculated an average sleep time of 3.7 hours. For a guy like that to leave his office in broad daylight?
No way this is some plot twist like [Next Episode: Shin Chang-seok Dies!]. Nah, impossible. Still, I hope he takes better care of his health. Maybe I should whip up some revitalizing tonic later. Ingredients from the special materials vault.
I turned to leave, but something small in the corner of the desk caught my eye. A mushroom-capped chocolate. The one I gave him last time, and he's still saving it. Guess he's the type who savors sweet snacks to the very end.
I quietly closed the door and stepped back into the hall. Same eerie quiet outside. No footsteps, the whole floor feels abandoned. Who knew the Threat Management Agency could get this silent? It always felt bustling here, even on weekends and holidays. What's going on today?
So weird. Then, far down the hall around the corner, I spotted a figure. Big build, at least 180 cm tall. Not muscular, more chubby. Horn-rimmed glasses, shoulders slumped like he's seriously lacking confidence.
This guy... I've seen him before. Ah, the otaku. The one who summoned Tera Chad—the guy I dragged to Shin Chang-seok, who got absolutely reamed out over the phone.
Feeling friendly, I hurried over. Hey, got a question for you.
Odeokhwan jumped at my presence, then looked away and started whistling. Whii~ Whii~♪ What? We totally made eye contact. Pretending he didn't see me?
I grabbed his sleeve. The whistling cut off, then started again. I shook his sleeve—back and forth, side to side. The guy was sweating bullets but wouldn't look my way. Huge as a mountain, flopping like seaweed, head stubbornly turned.
This won't do. Like with Jang Bung-ik, I grabbed Odeokhwan by the waist, hoisted him up, and spun him. Like pizza dough. Twirl twirl.
Odeokhwan flailed in midair, screaming. "Gaaahhh! I'm sorry! I won't pretend anymore! Forgive me, please!"
Nope. No mercy. Answer quick. Whoosh whoosh whoosh.
"Gaaaaahhh—!!"
This is fun. About twelve spins per second?
I was in the middle of judging Odeokhwan for ignoring a question from a good girl like me when...
[…Over there.]
The glasses-wearing disaster raised her hand in the mental world.
[Didn't you have zero questions for this chubby homo sapien?]
Oh. Right. I never actually voiced the question, so of course he couldn't answer. My bad, mistake.
I stopped my spinning arm and gently set Odeokhwan down on the floor. He collapsed, hands over mouth dry-heaving, but after about thirty seconds, he wobbled back to his feet.
Huh? Recovering faster than expected. Spun that hard in midair, and his inner ear's already settled? Tough little tank.
I pointed at Shin Chang-seok's empty office, then spread my palms skyward and shrugged my shoulders. Body language for: Where's Shin Chang-seok?
"Ah, Director Shin Chang-seok went to handle the VIP state visit response. He's not meeting the VIP directly, just prepping for any emergencies—"
Oh, he got it right away. Maybe we're surprisingly in sync. Or this guy's just sharp.
VIP? I tilted my head.
"The VIP is Will Bates, head of Microgenerics. He's here with a new operating system, talking investments in Korea—"
Microgenerics. The ones who made the syringe that summoned Tera Chad. Oh, and I've overheard agents mention this Odeokhwan before. Plays games, reads comics, watches anime, movies, internet streams. So, tons of hobbies, knows all sorts of stuff. Sounds fun.
Han Min-seo, Yi Gyu-rin, and Yeom Hana are all out on field duty, right? Ah, maybe they went with Shin Chang-seok. Perfect timing—no one else to play with.
I stared up at Odeokhwan intently. Sensing my gaze, sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his glasses frames.
"W-wait a sec. I'm on duty. Gotta guard the Threat Management Agency—"
I grabbed his waist and lifted. Play with me.
"—but yeah, whatever the Outer God wants! I'm all for it!"
Zero-point-zero-three seconds to agree after I picked him up. We might actually click.
Great timing. Trot trot.
……………
I dragged Odeokhwan back to my room—the old isolation cell. "Dragged" might not be accurate. I held him by the waist and slid down the emergency stair rail like a playground slide all the way to B41.
He yelled, "Stairs! Take the stairs! Or the elevator! Please!" But rail-sliding is way more fun. He must've changed his mind after trying it.
Anyway, this Odeokhwan looks like a total gaming pro. One of the agents said a pudgy belly is a "gamer pouch." Perfect candidate.
I needed an expert right now. Pulled the PlayBox Pro One from under the bed and hooked it to the monitor. Screen lit up, familiar loading screen.
Elden Ring. Han Min-seo brought it three weeks ago—pretty solid game. But I've been stuck on this one section for days.
Have Odeokhwan beat the tough boss. Then brag to Han Min-seo and Yi Gyu-rin that I cleared it. Flawless plan. Heh heh heh.
Odeokhwan glanced between the controller in his hands and the screen, then awkwardly lifted the corner of his mouth. "Ah, haha. You want me to beat this boss? I'll... give it a shot."
Mm-hmm. Sharp as a tack. Love it.
Odeokhwan sat properly in front of the OLED TV and started playing. Not even a minute in, a baffled puff of air escaped him.
"...Why's he in rags and holding a log? Total super-noob setup. And why's the HP bar so short? One graze and he's toast?"
Odeokhwan muttered on while controlling the character. "The pad's roll button isn't working right, either. It's cracked...?"
That's from when I gripped it too hard on attempt 142. I'll ask Shin Chang-seok for a new one later.
Odeokhwan sighed once, straightened up. Whoa, total pro vibe.
Boss fight begins. He mashed the broken roll button desperately, twisting his upper body in sync with the character like they were one.
Boss HP chipped away, chipped away, chipped away—and finally.
The last log strike slammed down, and the massive boss dissolved into particles of light.
"C-Cleared it!"
He cleared it. For real.
The little disasters linked hands in the mental world, circling in a ring-around-the-rosy dance of joy.
I'll brag to Han Min-seo and Yi Gyu-rin later. I didn't clear it myself, but the guy I brought did—so it's basically my win.
And for Odeokhwan, time for a reward. From his skills and that joyful vibe while gaming, he loves games and hates work. He agreed to play in 0.03 seconds, after all.
Here's the plan: Sneak him here later for nonstop gaming. No time for meals, so puree the cafeteria food and tube-feed him. Pump pure caffeine straight into his veins so he forgets sleep. About 240 hours of pure, uninterrupted gaming bliss, no food, no sleep, no breaks. He'll cry tears of joy and bow in gratitude for sure.
Heh heh heh. I was admiring my perfect reward scheme when...
Bzzz, bzzz.
A vibration from somewhere. Source: Odeokhwan's pants pocket. Been going off for about three minutes now.
Why ignore it? Too focused on the game?
I poked his pocket with a finger. He jolted like he'd been shocked. "Wah!? Wh-when did it start!?"
Since earlier, duh. Odeokhwan fumbled out his smartphone, and his face went sheet-white.
Wonder what's up. I sidled right behind him and peeked over his shoulder at the screen.
Some video—camera super shaky. Bodycam footage, strapped to someone's chest. Wide indoor space, unknown location. Threat Management Agency agents in uniform: Han Min-seo, Yi Gyu-rin, Shin Chang-seok. Plus a formation of suited bodyguards.
But something's off. The bodyguards' movements freeze solid. Like someone hit pause.
Then, next instant—all the bodyguards snap their heads toward the agency folks in unison.
Screen zooms on one guard's face. Blank expression. Over his hugely dilated pupils, a glowing blue rectangular window—like a pane of glass.
That's the blue screen from Jang Bung-ik's eye.
Click. Shing.
Guards draw weapons in sync. Pistols, swords, vibro-knives. Wild assortment, raised with perfect precision.
They all opened their mouths at once. Same voice, same intonation. Like one man speaking from dozens of mouths.
"""Remove the bug."""
Bang bang bang! The screen went wild. Gunfire shredding eardrums mixed with screams, camera plummeting to the floor as the feed cut out.