Lee Shin Is God
Credit Deal! Safe Packaging! Quick Delivery!
We'll handle it like it was our own family's business!
Brothers Outsourcing kept their motto to the letter.
Credit deal.
“No time to waste, you worm. Pick. Fist, or retirement. Choose.”
Take a beating and retire, or walk away with your body intact. The clients shed tears of gratitude at this merciful offer and chose the latter.
Jang Bo-ri’s claws made for an excellent bargaining tool.
Safe packaging.
“Aigoo, do I really gotta play nice with this double-crossing son of a bitch? Running illegal loans at the gambling den, threatening debtors, and straight-up extortion? This ain’t the damn eighties. I’m speechless.”
“…And apparently he even sold off the ones who couldn’t pay back their debts, boss.”
“He really covered all the bases, huh? This bastard’s useless. Right?”
“Shall we package him?”
“Take that cash, the evidence, everything. Wrap it up nice and hand it to the intelligence team leader. Our way.”
From evidence to criminal proceeds to hidden funds, the neatly packaged bundle became a fine achievement for the local police.
In that way, Jang Antonton’s drum-barrel packaging left a deep impression on the Busan police force.
And finally.
Quick delivery.
“You son of a—ughahahaahaha!!”
A jaw-breaking punch delivered straight to your face at top speed.
That was Jang Ji-na’s specialty.
It was spring.
While the Brothers Outsourcing crew swept clean the dark underside of Busan, the sunlit surface belonged to Noh Hyeong-sim—the district office head who was less Lee Shin’s pawn and more the faithful servant of every citizen in Yeongdo.
Under the watchful eyes of politicians from other autonomous districts, he was in the middle of negotiations with a group of building owners.
“Gentlemen, think about this rationally. Who is this proposal really for? It’s for all of you.”
Even if a large complex appeared nearby, property values might jump, but this was far beyond a mere increase in foot traffic. Facilities that could completely reshape the local market were about to be built right next door.
And not just any facilities—an entirely new, unprecedented commercial district was about to be born.
The building owners were already grinning ear to ear, unable to hide their delight.
Their very first thought was obvious: How much can we raise the rent?
But from the very first meeting, Noh Hyeong-sim had crushed those expectations by proposing that rents be frozen until the unstable market stabilized.
Outrage followed, naturally.
It’s my building. I can raise the rent if I want to. What business is it of yours? This is clearly private property, and in a free-market economy this is a violation of our rights! Are you trying to bully us?! Do we look that easy to you…?
There wasn’t a single flaw in their argument.
The other district heads observing the meeting were genuinely curious how Noh Hyeong-sim planned to persuade them of such an absurd proposal.
And yet here he was, claiming he was doing all of this to protect the building owners.
“Private property? Free-market economy? Fine. Who would turn down money pouring into their wallet? I’m not exactly allergic to cash myself. It feels great to watch the bills stack up. But didn’t I tell you? You have to look at this coldly.”
“Who exactly do you think you’re dealing with? It’s Lee Shin. Representative Lee Shin! Are you not getting this?”
The building owners stared back with eyes that said, So what?
Noh Hyeong-sim shook his head and continued.
“I think you’re all misunderstanding something. Do you really believe Representative Lee Shin brought in those facilities purely out of goodwill for coexistence and the development of Busan? Absolutely not. The only thing in that man’s head is his guild. Everything else is just a side branch!”
In Lee Shin’s mind, if a trading post was needed for the guild, then a trading post would be built. If an auction house made the picture prettier, then an auction house would be constructed.
If a nuclear power plant was required for the guild, Lee Shin was the kind of man who would build one.
“Representative Lee has already drawn the picture he wants. No, he’s definitely drawn it. A picture where every man, woman, and child in Busan becomes a fan of the guild, where he rises to the very top on the back of their passionate support.”
Every shop in Busan would broadcast Mir Guild matches. Every citizen in the city would cheer for Mir Guild.
On game days, people would gather at nearby stores to enjoy street cheering, singing together in victory.
Yes. His plan was to turn the entire city of Busan into one giant Mir City.
“In that situation, if you building owners decide to raise rents and monthly fees, telling your existing tenants that the building’s value has gone up so the rent has to go up too… the shop owners will raise their prices, right? Then the citizens’ burden increases. Then the citizens grow dissatisfied, right?”
And those citizens would, with high probability, be Yongbung fans.
“What happens if the Yongbung raise their voices?”
In the internet world where hundreds of thousands of posts went up every day.
Whether on social media, communities, or fan cafes, the posts would appear.
It’s too hard to be a fan. The prices are ridiculous. You can’t even be a fan if you’re broke.
The moment those complaints caught Lee Shin’s eye.
“It’s over. The golden goose you’re imagining will be slaughtered on the spot.”
“!!”
Why? The golden goose would disappear?
Why? Does that even make sense? No way, right?
What the hell is this guy saying? Why would we be the ones taking a loss?
Not only the building owners but even the politicians who had come to observe looked on in confusion.
Ha, this is exactly why you need career professionals.
Noh Hyeong-sim shook his head again and calmly taught them reality.
“When it comes to his guild, Lee Shin is not a person. He is an emperor. A tyrant.”
A vicious dictator who could only be satisfied when everything went exactly as he wanted.
“The moment Representative Lee feels that you are interfering with the picture he has drawn, he will use every means and method available to him—wealth, power, every tool the system permits—to remove you.”
Many people were blinded by the words “genius representative” and misunderstood, but Lee Shin was originally a much more overwhelming munchkin in this society than he was in the guild world.
In all of Korea, how many people could stand against the Ido Group with money and law? You could count them on one hand.
And without a doubt, these building owners were not among those five fingers.
“To exaggerate a little, what if it became known that Lee Shin was investing in a plot just a few blocks away from your buildings? A second Mir City? A third Mir City? The name doesn’t matter. The moment it appears, you will have no choice but to suffer losses.”
“B-but then Lee Shin would also—”
“Where exactly were you listening? I said he doesn’t care about the means or the methods! Do you think he cares about his own losses in that scenario?!”
“!!”
“Ugh, so frustrating! Stop thinking with your common sense! The opponent is Representative Lee Shin!”
This was a man who burned hundreds of millions on his personal broadcasts for his fans every single time. The consumables for a single strategy match cost billions, and if he decided to replace equipment, the minimum was tens of billions—with no upper limit.
If a man like that decided to take a loss, what could you possibly do to stop him? Was there even a way to stop him?
“Shall I give you an example? Mir City in Yeongdo, known as the center of street cheering culture, is entirely Lee Shin’s land. The rent there? It has not increased a single time since it was created. The shops are operating at absurdly low costs.”
Common sense said it was impossible. In this harsh economic climate, a bustling hotspot like that with zero rent fluctuation?
But that was exactly who Lee Shin was. He had no intention of making money from it! He created it simply because the picture of people gathering to cheer together was beautiful!
“On the other hand, places known for poor service or frequent complaints receive a warning after investigation. If it happens three times… they’re out. Finished.”
Exactly as the word implied—out.
People swallowed hard as he made a slicing gesture across his throat.
“Do you understand now? Why I called this proposal something for your own benefit. At the very least, Representative Lee absolutely keeps the words that leave his mouth. As long as you stay within these boundaries, you can do whatever you want with the rest.”
Only then did the building owners seem to realize whose blood they had been trying to suck.
They had almost gotten a taste of what real pressure looked like while trying to flex with money.
Noh Hyeong-sim clicked his tongue inwardly and spoke one last time.
“Keep this in mind. In the free-market economy you all love so much, if money is justice… then Lee Shin is a god.”
The building owners who had accepted the proposal left with complicated expressions. The district heads and assembly members patted Noh Hyeong-sim on the shoulder.
“Wow! District Head Noh, I didn’t expect that kind of backbone from you.”
“If money is justice in the market economy, then Lee Shin is a god… Damn.”
“You’re incredible, Noh Hyeong-sim! From now on, all negotiations go through you!”
“I learned a lot, sunbae.”
They scattered, saying they had learned a great deal and that they would do the same from now on.
Noh Hyeong-sim simply smiled with his characteristically gentle, benevolent expression.
That was why they didn’t see it.
Just how cold the light in Noh Hyeong-sim’s eyes had become as he held a cigarette between his lips.
Good, good. Who really has the shorter lifespan here, I wonder.
In the end, the building owners could simply sell their buildings and walk away.
They would still have money multiplied several times over. But what about the others?
How many of them could actually keep their seats?
“Well, they can figure it out themselves.”
Even though he said that, he believed they wouldn’t be able to.
That’s how I rise.
Beyond the cigarette smoke, the monster of power smiled coldly.
Time passed like that.
A shabby pork soup restaurant in Chinatown near Busan Station.
People lined up as lunchtime arrived. A young male employee who had been busily clearing tables greeted the customers warmly.
“Welcome~! How many in your party?”
“Four bowls of pork soup, and a lot of green onions.”
“Yes! Grandma! Four pork soups! Extra chives please!”
Okay!
Grandma’s voice rang out from the kitchen. The employee quickly guided the customers to their seats.
“I haven’t seen your face before… are you related to Grandma?”
“I’m her grandson.”
“I’ve heard about you! Didn’t she say her children were all in Seoul?”
“They said the grandson studied really well.”
“He goes to the best university in Korea. So the grandma’s bragging was all about you.”
“Haha, thank you. Business has been so good lately that part-timers aren’t enough, so I decided to help out. I also got a job nearby.”
“Nearby?”
“At the research institute.”
“Wow, what a smart young man!”
“We’re building a factory right next door. Nice to meet you.”
“If you’re here, just eat and don’t bother my grandson. What are you staring at? Go watch the counter.”
“Wow, look at Grandma protecting her grandson.”
“My grandson, heh heh.”
“Ugh, so noisy!”
The white-haired grandmother, embarrassed, quickly retreated into the kitchen. Laughter erupted throughout the restaurant all at once.
It was full of vitality.
Customers drenched in sweat, customers covered in dirt, even the Russian workers from the northern region—everyone overflowed with energy.
Watching them, the grandson couldn’t help but grow a little sentimental.
It turned out well…
Grandma’s restaurant had been struggling badly before.
No one could match her skill, but even that couldn’t overcome the declining economy of Busan.
The fact that it was near Chinatown, famous for being a slum, hadn’t helped either.
The store had been slowly dying.
Every time he visited Busan, Grandma looked noticeably more haggard. His father had even urged her to close the business and come up to Seoul.
But Grandma had refused every time.
She said too many kids would go hungry if she left.
Those damn Yankee puppies or whatever she called them.
He had been so worried, yet the economy of Busan—which everyone thought had no hope—had begun to improve little by little.
And the grandson knew exactly when that turning point had come.
Lee Shin.
After he took over the Mir Guild and the guild began to grow, Busan had shaken with new life.
Customers started trickling into the store that used to only have flies. Grandma’s gaunt face filled out again.
Not only did foot traffic increase, but so did the number of transient customers.
And on days when the Mir Guild had matches, every store in the area was packed full.
The shop owners had even seriously discussed filing a collective complaint with the Bureau, begging them to increase the number of matches.
Then, not long ago, the Busan economy had shot upward vertically once again.
The projects Lee Shin attracted had taken root.
It wasn’t just this restaurant. Every restaurant nearby was full.
The streets were packed with workers coming to eat lunch, and money poured into the city like rain.
They say it’s the same everywhere else.
The Olympus Magic Tower in Seogu.
The International Mana Stone Exchange in Jung-gu.
The Certified Item Auction House in Busanjin-gu.
He had heard that Dong-gu, where factories and research complexes were being built, was just as packed with workers.
Come to think of it, the fact that he had gotten a job at a research institute in Busan was probably thanks to Lee Shin as well.
Remembering how widely Grandma had smiled when she heard he was moving down to Busan, the grandson smiled brightly too.
“Thank you.”
It was then.
“What are you thanking me for?”
“!!”
At some point, two elderly men who had finished eating were standing at the counter.
Both of them looked incredibly sturdy. One was a solidly built old man, the other tall and upright.
“I-I’m sorry. I was lost in thought. Did you enjoy the meal?”
“It had been a while since I wanted pork soup, so I stopped by. It was quite satisfying.”
“Hahaha, my grandma’s skill is the best, after all.”
“By the way, young man, let me ask you something. Who are those guys?”
“Ah, the Russian customers? The Mir Guild and the Ido Group brought in Russian workers, so…”
“Not that. I’m asking why a pork soup restaurant is crawling with them.”
“Oh, that. My grandma is close with the person who manages those Russian workers.”
“Brothers Outsourcing?”
“Huh? You know them?”
“There’s a photo here.”
A photo of a hairy Caucasian man and the owner grandmother together.
The old customer stared at one side of the photo for a moment, then let out a small chuckle.
“This bastard really leaves his mark everywhere he goes.”
He set down the card he was holding and pushed forward a check.
The grandson’s eyes widened in shock. The number written on the check wasn’t one million or even ten million—it was ten million won.
“Eh?? C-customer, this, this is…”
“Keep the change.”
Thanks for the meal.
With a simple farewell, the two old men shuffled out of the store.
Only then did the grandson get a proper look at the photo.
It wasn’t just the two of them. There was a hairy white man, the owner grandmother, and Lee Shin standing between them with his arms around their shoulders.
Wearing a much younger, more boyish smile.
Lee Sang-byuk, having left the restaurant, put a cigarette in his mouth. Yu Cheol-ong lit it for him.
“Huu… This time the kid actually handled things properly for once, didn’t he?”
“I told you. The young master has always been excellent.”
“Bullshit. Excellent, my ass. Look at how he’s still dragging around that Jeong Sun-dong or whatever his name is. Too soft for his own good. Tsk.”
“Haha, wouldn’t you say that’s because he has a lot of virtue?”
“Virtue~? Do you know how much money that bastard spent this time just to siphon off a few of the Russian kids? If he had any more of that ‘virtue,’ it would ruin him.”
Being too soft-hearted, being weak toward his own people, talking about coexistence and sharing the profits—Lee Sang-byuk believed there was no greater fool than this.
If it had been him, he would have kicked them all out and swallowed everything himself.
“Still, it looks like he’s gradually filling the ranks with useful people. That part I like.”
Whether it was that Chae Dong-ha kid, Yun Cho-a, that Noh Hyeong-sim fellow, or the kids from Brothers Outsourcing, the fact that capable people were gathering around him put Lee Sang-byuk somewhat at ease.
Even so, if there were still shortcomings, it was the job of the adults to take care of them, even if it was troublesome.
“Cheol-ong, I have a favor to ask.”
“Please return safely, sir.”
“Yeah.”
Before long, the car carrying Lee Sang-byuk disappeared into the distance.
Yu Cheol-ong turned around.
The moment he did, the smile vanished from his face. With a dry expression, he took out his phone.
“Where are you?”