"Is That What You Call a Report?"
“Is that what you call a report?”
“I’m sorry.”
In a dingy fourth-floor building on the edge of Seoul’s Jongno district, Kim Jaeha sat in the corner conference room with his head bowed low.
“Sorry my ass. I told you to do one thing right, and you fuck it up.”
The department head, Ihojung, spitting curses right in his face, was a guy the president had personally brought on board. Rumor had it he’d spent years grinding away at a game company, some college junior of the boss.
“You should’ve gotten fired back then, you idiot. Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused this company?”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Will you quit with the ‘sorry’ already? All you do is screw up. Completely useless.”
Four years ago, when Kim Jaeha first joined this small trading firm, he’d been brimming with passion. Two years in, Record Project—RP—launched, and soon after, the president made his call.
“We’re dipping into RP business. Pull three people for it. Kim Jaeha, you’re definitely on.”
Kim Jaeha, who’d been hyping RP around the office since its announcement, jumped into the new gig. The team clicked better than expected, raking in profits from all angles. But the joy didn’t last.
“What? Dwarf Blacksmithing? Isn’t that a hidden skill?”
While scouting the snowfields, Kim Jaeha stumbled on an achievement and reported it to his boss. The name and details screamed anything but ordinary metallurgy.
“Yes. But it’s full of uncertainties, could drag on forever. Selling the info to another company would be way smarter...”
“What’re you scared of? Nail this, and our company’s name goes global!”
Ihojung made the call solo and rushed it up to the president. Whatever was said, things shifted fast.
“Pull everyone you can and pile ’em on this!”
At the president’s order, the whole office united for the hidden skill project. If they pulled it off, this one skill could rocket them to success.
“Competitors are swarming! Dig every other route too!”
Reality hit hard. Every hidden skill hunt came up empty. With rival companies sniffing around, even their first-mover edge faded.
“Drop it all.”
Three months of dragging ended with one word from the president. No gains meant all that effort and cash vanished into thin air. The kicker? No one else snagged the skill either.
“You were so damn sure! Know how much money we burned?”
The president hurled the files to the floor, glaring at Kim Jaeha. Stunned, he couldn’t speak, but Ihojung stepped up.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve managed better, but Jaeha was so convinced it’d work...”
“What? Sir, that’s not—!”
“Shut it! Who the hell are you to raise your voice? The president trusted and backed you!”
Kim Jaeha got it crystal clear. His boss had been shoving all the blame on him from day one.
That’s when he instinctively grasped his reality.
“...I’m sorry.”
All he could say was apologize. If he hadn’t found the achievement. If he’d reported straight to the president. If he’d stopped Ihojung’s reckless push. Things could’ve gone differently.
Guilt piled on guilt, burrowing into his chest.
“Hey, spacing out?”
Ihojung’s irritated voice snapped Kim Jaeha from his reverie. He wanted to punch the guy and quit, but the weight of being the breadwinner held him back.
“What’s the status on Black Dragon and Roper? You at least message ’em? Those guys even nabbed a hidden skill!”
“It’s tough right now, but I’ve outlined contact methods in the report. Please review.”
“Review my ass. Dumping company cash on streams for free—that your big plan?”
The report in Ihojung’s hand was already crumpled to hell. His face twisted like he was staring at a repulsive bug.
Kim Jaeha swallowed his rage. “It’s not free—it’s an investment. Black Dragon’s probably sitting on way more intel.”
“Investment? Bring something tangible first, dumbass. You wanna burn a million won on one lousy message?”
“Other companies are already sponsoring, and Black Dragon’s paying attention. If we miss this...”
“Kim Jaeha.”
Ihojung cut him off, leaning in close and prodding his gut with the report. “Cut the bullshit. Go personally make contact. Dance, clown around, whatever—just move your ass. Got it?”
“...Yes, sir.”
“At least you answer well.”
Thwack! Fury boiling over, he chucked the papers to the floor. “Fucking moron.”
With that, Ihojung stormed out. Kim Jaeha, head still lowered, clenched his trembling fists as best he could.
***
“Still this crowded, huh.”
Back in Edlen, Hanbit sighed at the swarming players. Every eye locked on him—they’d clearly been glued to the stream.
“Hyung, main quest time now, right?”
Juyeonu, walking beside him, asked with eyes full of anticipation. Viewers felt the same.
-Main quest cheat next?
-Yeah right, no way.
-Even if you know the story, gotta do every step.
-But that Bares bus was sweet.
-Bares was actually...
-Hey, no spoilers.
Chat flooded with story talk, especially about Bares—the name that kept popping up. Hanbit had plenty to say about the guy, but story mode wasn’t on the menu yet.
“Story starts tomorrow.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Gotta go to work.”
“Oh.”
-It’s 2 AM lol
-Time melted away.
-Why work tho?
-Unemployed W.
-My shift’s ruined too.
Juyeonu and viewers checked the time and had no comeback. From logoff to hidden skill, the schedule had slipped into dawn. Lashten’s selfishness made the wasted time sting extra.
“Nothing we can do. Logging off now?”
“Nah, time to assign some stats.”
“For real?”
Juyeonu lit up at the good news—he’d been dying to see this.
“How many points? Gotta be a ton, right?”
“Hold on.”
Hanbit pulled up his character info.
[Black Dragon-Lv.16]
[Title: None]
Strength: 4
Agility: 4
Intelligence: 4
Vitality: 4
Remaining Stat Points: 51
“...No way, this is insane. What’s with these numbers?”
-Lv16 with 51 points. lmao
-Already Lv16 is nuts lol
-From slander hunt?
-Nah, quest rewards were broken.
[Workshop donated 1,000 won.]
[This is a bit...]
Viewers freaked at the absurd stats. Juyeonu’s jaw dropped, then his face shifted.
“But why hold off so long? Dumping points early would’ve eased those skill quests.”
“Just did. Was mulling where to put ’em.”
Hanbit gave a vague answer. Truth was way more layered.
No pointless gambles.
The four skills from Edlen were his first steps to readjust. Reviving that old sensation of mastering techniques with the frailest body.
Since stats directly boosted physical prowess, best avoid in the early phase. Plus, one more big thing.
Data collection’s almost done.
Lee Minho’s RP gear project. To help, Hanbit got a USB from him—packed with a special program from R&D. It auto-logged detailed player data. Key check: stat-driven movement shifts.
“Good it went smooth... Anyway, dumping all in one would feel insane, right? Wind spirit means Agility? Let’s test.”
Juyeonu’s focus switched. Hanbit, eyeing stats, hovered his finger over Strength’s + button.
Ding. The number ticked up. Strength now 5.
“Hyung! Don’t just slam it!”
-lololol
-Noob move.
-Braindead pick.
-But Agility’s gotta be best for wind, right?
-Yep.
Juyeonu and viewers were dead sure it was wrong. But Hanbit had data to verify.
“Wait.”
Squeeze. He’d been gripping the sword hilt awhile, zeroed on sensation. He nodded.
Just like that.
The grip strength spike from +1 Strength. Most players wouldn’t notice the tiny diff, but Hanbit? After swinging swords countless times across 55 cycles, daily body training—this felt drastic.
Ding. Ding. He tested one point each in Agility, Intelligence, Vitality. Plenty subtle for confirmation.
...This could work.
His isekai peak physique. In reality, decades to build. But in this stat-driven game? He could slash that time. Hell, maybe surpass it.
“Hyung! Hold up!”
After tweaking every stat, Juyeonu panicked to stop him. Clearly craving the all-in dump.
“No even distributors?”
“Sure, but you got a hidden skill—build around it, duh!”
Juyeonu’s plea rang desperate. But Hanbit knew Wind Swordsmanship best. Words wouldn’t cut it—show, don’t tell.
“I’ll show you. Watch close.”