Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Swamp of Grief (1)
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One afternoon, after the main modeling for the characters was finished, a corner of the Rewind office was filled with the chatter of two women and the one man listening to them.
Needless to say, it was the excitable duo and Myeong-gyu.
“Aren’t the details here great? I’m telling you, I spent three hours just sculpting the inner thigh!”
“Look at the butt here, too! There’s an aesthetic to what makes something hot! This line is the result of agonizing over how to draw the eye!”
Creators, as a species, tended to be like this.
After making something, they have a habit of wandering around, looking for a place to satisfy their need for recognition.
The two of them were no different. They had poured their hearts into creating the model, but with an embargo in place, they couldn't show it to the public. In the meantime, they desperately needed feedback on their work, and Myeong-gyu came to mind. So, they sought him out to deliver this long-winded explanation.
Myeong-gyu understood, to some extent.
So he answered, though his words were rather conventional.
“I-It looks good…!”
In truth, Myeong-gyu had no idea what was so good about it.
The only assessment he could make was, ‘It’s a buff male character.’
The reason was obvious. As a born-and-bred engineer whose job was programming, the finished model looked like nothing more than a bunch of data to him.
Therefore, all he could do in this situation was nod, and he knew it wasn’t quite the right reaction.
You know how it is.
When someone is passionately explaining, ‘This is this, and that is that,’ the appropriate praise should follow those fine details.
Whether they knew what was going through his mind or not, the two were overjoyed by his praise, which could have easily sounded dismissive.
“Right? I knew Myeong-gyu, Myeong-gyu oppa would get it!”
“So, Myeong-gyu, Myeong-gyu oppa! What about the lats here?”
“The chest! The chest, too!”
Their eyes sparkled.
Myeong-gyu’s body flinched.
A thought suddenly struck him: ‘This time has to be different.’
Even as his head spun, Myeong-gyu's clever mind began to weave a rather lengthy compliment based on the model's chest and lats.
‘The curves are elegant. The detail in the contour from the lats to the chest is especially brilliant. Usually, when you look at a muscular male character's chest, the nipples stand out and draw your gaze, right? But this model doesn't have that. My eyes definitely go to the muscle lines first. That must mean the muscles are that beautiful, right? That aesthetic of hotness you two were talking about, I think I get what you mean now!’
Perfect.
If he could just say this, he would be able to satisfy their expectations by a wide margin.
All he had to do was open his mouth.
But there was something Myeong-gyu had overlooked.
The tongue is inherently slower than thought.
In other words, the faster one’s thoughts, the less the tongue can keep up with the volume of information, often resulting in fragmented and disjointed speech.
Of course, Go Myeong-gyu—29 years old, a product of all-boys middle school, all-boys high school, public service, and an engineering college, now in his fourth year as a programmer, with zero dating experience, zero ‘almost-dating’ experience, and the only women he knew being Kim Hye-ji and Jeon Yu-mi—was oblivious to such things.
A compression of keywords occurred.
The elegance of the muscle lines that drew the eye away from even the nipples, and his understanding of the aesthetic of hotness they mentioned.
In that moment, those two propositions burst forth from the timid Myeong-gyu's mouth in a shortened form.
“Fucking hot!”
*Thwip!*
Having no idea what he had just said, he gave an energetic thumbs-up. Only then did Myeong-gyu belatedly realize his own words.
‘Huh?’
The moment his expression froze, his vision was filled with Hye-ji and Yu-mi, blinking blankly.
“Uh…”
Behind the petrified Myeong-gyu, autumn leaves fell outside the window, carried by a chilly wind.
It was autumn.
***
“Okay, confirmed as is.”
It was mid-autumn when the modeling for the tutorial chapter was more or less complete.
I had spent the last few days reviewing the chapter, now brought to life.
The overall direction was finally set, and all that was left was to inspect the details.
In that case, it was about time to flesh out the structure of Chapter 1.
Just as I was thinking, Han Seo-rim spoke up.
“By the way, sunbae.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you sleeping well these days?”
“Why so sudden?”
“Your dark circles seem to have gotten worse.”
Han Seo-rim approached me without warning.
The first thing I noticed was the intensified scent of her perfume.
Then her face, her brow furrowed, came into view, and I registered the stern look in her eyes.
“Let me see. Ugh, you should get a haircut, too. It’s already covering half your eyes.”
Han Seo-rim’s hand brushed my bangs aside.
Her hand is cold, I thought, as my vision suddenly brightened.
I guess my hair had gotten that long.
“You don’t look in the mirror much, do you, sunbae.”
“…Do I have the time?”
“It’s a big problem if you’re working so much you don’t even have time for that. It means you’re not taking care of yourself. Look at this, it’s all dark under your eyes. It’s not because of the shadow from your bangs. What did I tell you? No matter how important work is…”
The nagging began.
She was like this from time to time.
Times when I was too busy and neglected my self-care, and she would chide me for it.
How many times had this happened before? It was hard to recall.
There were too many instances to count.
“Go home early today. And make sure you eat a proper lunch.”
“I ate.”
“I bet it was that bibimbap from the snack shop again.”
“It’s edible.”
“Edible my ass. That stuff tastes like dog food.”
I was about to reply that Yang Gil-sang would be heartbroken to hear that.
“Are you taking your supplements?”
“…Probably?”
“I knew it. Take them out.”
Busted.
Han Seo-rim crossed her arms and gestured with her chin.
It was a silent protest, declaring she wouldn’t leave until she saw me take the pills.
There was no getting out of this.
I opened my drawer and took out the supplements.
There were eight different kinds.
Han Seo-rim had bought them all for me, but I usually forgot they existed and rarely took them.
Her indignant voice pierced my ears.
“You haven’t even taken three days’ worth?”
“Is it something to get that angry about?”
“It is, because I know how you work. You look like you’re about to collapse from overwork. What happens to my job then?”
She hit a sore spot.
I had, in fact, died from overwork before.
Even when I told myself I needed to rest, I couldn't stay still once I started thinking about work.
As I clamped my mouth shut, Han Seo-rim said,
“That’s a symptom of anxiety. You know that?”
“I don’t want to hear that from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
*Gulp.* I swallowed the pills.
Han Seo-rim gave up on getting an answer and just watched me take my medicine.
It felt like being a child, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant.
It was reassuring, at times, to have someone who cared about the health I kept forgetting to manage.
This should be enough.
“All done. That’s enough, so go back to work.”
“Not enough. Sunbae, clear your schedule from 7 to 8 P.M. starting today.”
“For dinner?”
“To work out.”
Working out, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad…
“You’re coming with me. I’ll teach you.”
Now that was a statement I couldn’t just let slide.
“You’re going to teach me? Me? You?”
I knew Han Seo-rim made time to work out even during her busy periods.
But still. For all my faults, I was a military veteran who had completed his service in the army artillery.
Learning how to lift from a woman? Unthinkable.
The words slipped out.
“Your ego’s getting a little too big.”
“That’s what all the beginners say.”
“It’s sad that I have to prove I don’t need to be taught.”
“It’s despairing to see you trapped in your delusion, sunbae.”
“…We don’t have to wait until tonight. If you’re not busy, let’s go now.”
I stood up from my seat.
No matter how long I’d been sitting at a desk, I didn’t think I would lose to Han Seo-rim in a workout.
Besides, my pride had been wounded. If I let this go, I wouldn’t be able to focus on work.
It felt like she was calling me a weakling.
A lesson in discipline was in order.
“Sounds good. The gym’s a 10-minute walk from here. Follow me.”
It took Han Seo-rim 3 minutes to grab her things, 10 minutes to get to the gym, and 20 minutes after we started working out…
I had to face a deeply sorrowful truth.
“Done already?”
“…It’s because I haven’t been sleeping well.”
I reflected.
When did I become so pathetic?
No, when did I lose so much muscle?
“Your total for the big three is just 100.”
“…”
“Say that again. Something about my ego?”
I felt a sense of crisis.
Han Seo-rim’s smile felt like a sneer.
No, it was definitely a sneer.
“Your stamina looks the most dangerous, so let’s start with cardio. What’s this? You’re just a tall weakling, aren’t you?”
I had no words left to argue.
It was a ruthless world where the winner takes all.
The loser can only submit to the victor’s tyranny.
“Good job. Just one more minute.”
That day, I was utterly destroyed by Han Seo-rim on the treadmill.
***
The next morning, my body felt surprisingly refreshed.
Of course, my muscles ached, but my mind, in contrast, was crystal clear.
Blinking, I stared at the still-unfamiliar ceiling of my new apartment (I had moved in three months ago).
I pressed a hand to my thigh and pushed myself up.
‘Ah, so this is why people work out.’
Realization dawned.
Along with it, my understanding of a certain vicious cycle soared.
Yes, the refreshing feeling that lingered somewhere in my body after a workout would surely lead me back to that dreadful moment.
When I worked out again, I would regret the hardship, only to forget the pain the next day, filled with a sense of refreshment and accomplishment.
It was like a mouse on a wheel.
What was frightening was that even as I had these thoughts, I was acutely feeling the need to improve my stamina.
Well, whatever the case, now that things had turned out this way, I’d have to follow Han Seo-rim around for a while.
Muscle soreness is something that gradually gets better as you get used to it.
I dragged my stiff body to the shower, got dressed, and left the house.
It was about a 15-minute walk to the office. After greeting the employees, I sat down at my desk.
‘…It hurts.’
I never knew walking to work could be this arduous.
The moment I sank into my chair,
“G-Good morning…!”
Jo A-yun, who had been sticking close to me for a while now, arrived at work.
She couldn’t come in every day since she was juggling school.
“Yeah, did school go well yesterday?”
“Y-Yes…! But, President…”
Jo A-yun blinked and stared at me intently.
Right, I was probably looking pretty sluggish today.
“…It’s just muscle soreness. I started working out.”
“Oh!”
Jo A-yun’s eyes widened in surprise. Then, she sidled up to me and placed her hands on my shoulders.
“I’ll give you a massage…!”
She made little fists and started patting my shoulders, a force more akin to a gentle tap than a massage.
It seemed her grip wasn't very strong either.
“Hehe…”
I could hear Jo A-yun’s lighthearted laughter from behind me.
She really was a kind-hearted kid.
Worrying about me like this.
But, A-yun, A-yun…
“…It’s my legs that are sore, not my shoulders.”
My legs were the problem.
I had sealed away my upper body after the big three assessment.
“Ah…!”
“It’s fine. It’ll probably get better if I just sit.”
I stopped Jo A-yun as she immediately reached for my legs, gently patting her on the head and sending her back to her seat.
“The tutorial draft with the graphics applied should be out today. Keep an eye on that. You need to familiarize yourself with the work details beforehand.”
“Ah, y-yes…!”
“Right, let’s work hard today, too.”
Just as I said that,
*Diling!*
A text message alert sounded.
I checked, and it was from Yang Gil-sang.
[Check your email! Urgent!]
This was unusual.
Yang Gil-sang usually brought up most matters during our lunch together.
What could possibly be so urgent? I wondered as I turned on my computer, and I instantly understood why.
『It has been a while. Director, this is Ayado Goro, who visited you before.
I hope you have been well.
The reason for this email is none other than…』
It was an email from Sona.
To be precise, it was from Ayado Goro, the director of the sales team with whom I had signed the contract.
My eyes narrowed.
Why would they be emailing me first at this time?
Were they, as investors, trying to put pressure on the schedule? Or was it related to the upcoming console release of *Hellic 2*?
My mind raced as I scrolled down with the mouse wheel.
In the end, I was half right and half wrong.
No, even the half I got right was half wrong.
『I am contacting you regarding E3 2013.
It seems we can secure an exhibition spot for Hellic 3 there.
Therefore, I would like to request, if possible, if we could receive a game prototype…』
It was a polite request, a proposition, and perhaps, a form of pressure.
Sona wanted *Hellic 3* to be unveiled at next year’s E3, which was still about three quarters away.
Of course, there was a condition attached.
They wanted to see the game’s progress so far.
If it met their standards, they would grant one of their E3 spots to *Hellic 3*.
Even so, it was an incredibly good opportunity for me.
That’s why, the moment I read the email, I couldn’t help but think,
‘…They’re confirming this and sending it already?’
A massive event still three quarters away.
And they had apparently secured an exhibition spot for a game they hadn’t even properly reviewed.
And this wasn’t some insignificant small-time publisher, but Sona, a titan at the apex of the industry.
Wasn’t that strange?
‘This is…’
This was too kind.
So kind that it raised suspicions.
***
In the office of the sales team director at Sona’s headquarters in Japan, Ayado Goro was once again on the phone.
He was speaking with Alid Russo.
—So, what’s the answer!
“Yes, they said they will contact us as soon as they complete the first chapter. I plan to go and check it myself.”
—Khahaha! As expected, he’s not refusing! So, how’s the game? Maybe I could also…
“You cannot. Now that Rewind is under our wing, we intend to manage security thoroughly.”
—Tsk, so stingy.
“It is merely a strong sense of professional duty.”
Ayado adjusted his glasses and spoke.
“I have already indulged your unreasonable demand. Have we not already allocated one of our booths to Hellic?”
He called it unreasonable for one reason.
Alid had requested a booth for *Hellic* as a condition for unveiling Valhalla’s new title at E3 2013.
From Ayado’s perspective, it was for purely personal reasons.
‘It must be his fanboyism. He likes Rewind’s director that much.’
To say Alid Russo’s interest in Cheon Yeon-ho was immense would be an understatement.
After all, he was making such a troublesome request. It said it all.
With Valhalla’s new title still a year from release, Ayado was once again suffering the great ordeal of playing along with him.
Whether Alid knew his feelings or not, he replied shamelessly.
—I hardly get a chance to meet the guy! And I’m curious about Hellic 3.
“I’m sure you are.”
—So when the tutorial is out…
“You have been acting unreasonably until now, so I trust you will now consider our position.”
It was an uncharacteristically strong statement from him.
Since Ayado did not normally use such strong language, its meaning was delivered all the more clearly.
Thankfully, Alid stopped pushing his luck there.
Instead, perhaps, after a moment of silence, he finally asked a question.
He added a very sly laugh to it.
—What if, just saying.
“Yes.”
—What if, and this is a big what-if.
“Stop beating around the bush and just say it.”
—What happens if the Hellic 3 you go to Korea to inspect exceeds expectations?
It was a strange question, and a tiresome one.
Ayado was getting sick of Alid’s overestimation of *Hellic*.
But that didn’t affect the sincerity of his answer.
“We would expand the booth. Because it would be profitable.”
Corporations pursue profit.
Sona is a corporation.
Therefore, if *Hellic* proved to be profitable, it was only natural to support it.
Indulging Alid’s unreasonable demands was in the same vein.
It was more profitable to give in to his whims.
Of course,
“That is, if Hellic is fun.”
It meant the game had to be fun when judged solely on its own merits, without any personal feelings involved.
At Ayado’s response, Alid let out a low, guttural laugh.
—Is that so? You’d do well to remember those words.
With that, the line went dead.
Ayado pressed his throbbing temples and thought, as he did every day.
‘As I thought…’
Directors, as a species, all lacked social skills.
Swamp of Grief (1)