The Jackpot (3)

It was a modest little rented office in Gangnam, but it was about to become our company's headquarters, and the three of us—me, Mincheol, and Ms. Kyuson—gathered there to hold a meeting. It was, in its own way, a historic first executive (?) meeting of the company.

Even now, having only just started a business, I was keenly aware of how difficult it is to objectively assess a person's abilities. Some people, in particular, only revealed their true worth when given greater authority.

Mincheol was the prime example. I'd told him he could settle for 50%, but he'd greedily hammered out the deal at 80%. Well, I suppose he deserved solid compensation for that.

"Take half of that extra 30% you negotiated as your incentive. So... roughly 20% of the waste-disposal revenue is yours."

"Wh-what? Really?"

"Yeah, of course. In exchange, you're going to be busy from now on. You're our sales director, after all."

"Just leave it to me! I'll handle everything!"

They do say you work as much as you eat. The man was already brimming with motivation.

The development and production side, however, was another story entirely, and Ms. Kyuson, who had joined the meeting, looked gloomy.

"I-I'm sorry. I just..."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

It really wasn't about her abilities. Building pharmaceutical-grade facilities from absolute zero wasn't something that could be done with a snap of the fingers. She and I had both been looking into every avenue, but it remained an uphill battle.

"If only a decent pharmaceutical company came up for sale somewhere."

Fixing something that already existed was a hundred times easier than creating something from nothing. Of course, we obviously didn't have that kind of money... Either way, nothing was easy. How did businessmen actually do this? I was scratching my head, deep in thought, when—

"Actually, I did hear something."

My eyes went wide at Mincheol's voice, like rain after a drought.

"What's that supposed to mean? Heard what?"

"Ah, I was out visiting a client and happened to catch wind of something. No idea if it's true, though."

"True or not, I'd grab at a straw right now."

"Tsk. Don't come crying to me later if it turns out to be a rumor."

"Just spit it out already."

He still seemed unsure whether he should say it, but after a moment's hesitation, Mincheol finally spoke.

"You know Seil Pharmaceuticals. The one in Cheonan."

"Ah, that gloomy company?"

I'd been there a few times for waste pickup, but lately they'd barely given us any work, so I'd almost stopped going. The atmosphere was oppressive every visit, the employees' faces were grim—I'd figured they'd go under soon enough. They're actually going bankrupt?

"No way. That company's folding?"

"Yeah. It was on my client list, so I went to make a sales call and heard they're winding down operations soon."

"How did a company that big end up like that?"

Seil Pharmaceuticals was no small outfit. They'd been around for quite a while, too. I did a quick internet search, and one article jumped out at me.

Even the headline sounded pretty risky. No follow-up articles, though. Hmm, it was a dungeon story—would Zephyros know about it? We were meeting later anyway, so I'd have to ask.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

After wrapping up the short first meeting, we headed over to the building where Zephyros worked. Having the office in Gangnam was nice, I supposed—aside from rent that made me want to gag. I was carrying two iced Americanos from a franchise café I could never previously afford, and handed one to Zephyros as he stepped out of the elevator.

"Oh, coffee. Can't beat coffee."

The moment he took it, he let out a huge yawn, his exhaustion plain on his face, then practically inhaled the drink.

"Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate."

"I do. Thanks to a certain someone."

"Would that certain someone happen to be me?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Haha..."

"I've drawn up a list of gates worth clearing next. Sent it via KakaoTalk—check it and decide."

"Yes. Ah, actually, there's something I'd like to ask you about."

When I brought up Seil Pharmaceuticals, Zephyros slurped down the rest of his Americano and answered.

"Seil Pharmaceuticals? It's one of the textbook examples of corporate dungeon investment gone wrong."

"I did see an internet article about it. Said they invested in a 7th-stage gate."

"Yeah. The internet doesn't say exactly where it is, does it?"

"No, it doesn't."

"It's a gate near Daecheong Lake. What was the name again... Anyway, the monsters that come out of it are fish. Sawtooth Ichthyosaurs, or something."

Fish monsters?

"Then the field would be..."

"Underwater. Well, it's not that unusual a case. As you know, 70% of the Earth is covered in water."

In fact, quite a few gates had formed in the ocean—scattered across both the open seas and coastal waters.

"And while they're rare, there are specialist hunters who clear these gates. Hunters who can move freely underwater, or who carry skills that work more efficiently in it. The industry calls them Fishermen. Both words share the same root, funnily enough."

"Literally people who catch fish, then."

"Exactly."

"But if hunters like that exist, why did Seil Pharmaceuticals go under?"

"I told you—there aren't many of them. Fixed demand, scarce supply. What do you think happens?"

"Don't tell me..."

Zephyros nodded and elaborated.

"Fisherman's Club—Korea's largest marine hunter guild, holding a near-monopoly—took a few jobs at first, then eventually jacked up their rates to insane levels. To the point where buying the gate outright would've been cheaper."

They'd won the dungeon bid to secure cheap raw materials, but if the service fees climbed to the price of ownership, the situation couldn't end anywhere but disaster. Paying dungeon lease fees to the state on top of hunter service costs—it would've been stranger if they hadn't gone under.

"It actually went to court after a complaint to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Fair Trade Commission, and Fisherman's Club was acquitted in the end. When I say 'I won't work unless you pay me this much,' the state can't exactly force me to work for cheap. Push it too far and you get accused of forced hunter conscription."

"That's the kind of thing that only happens in China or North Korea."

"Hey, even China can't do forced hunter conscription these days. That's ancient history. Hunters' social standing has skyrocketed. Touch them the wrong way and even the Chinese Communist Party couldn't survive it. North Korea... well, those bastards..."

Anyway, the point was that Seil Pharmaceuticals had that whole mess lurking in its background. You could say the hunters had ruined them and not be far wrong.

"So why are you asking about Seil Pharmaceuticals? Don't tell me...?"

"Zephyros. What if—just what if..."

"No."

"I haven't even said anything yet."

"If you're thinking of acquiring Seil Pharmaceuticals, I don't recommend it."

The man was psychic.

"I'm not just saying I'd buy it blindly. I'd do a full due diligence on the dungeon too, and only acquire it if it looked promising."

"...Fine, I'll look into the terms."

With that, he dialed someone. He was checking right now? After cycling through a few calls, he spoke.

"Seil Pharmaceuticals is in worse shape than you thought."

"How much?"

"One thousand won."

"....."

Is this a joke? But the look he gave me said, No, really.

"Seriously?"

Even a pack of gum costs more than a thousand won these days. What kind of company...

"It's a nominal acquisition. The conditions are: assume fifteen billion won in unpaid employee wages, twelve billion in delinquent dungeon lease fees, 1.7 billion in back taxes, and forty-eight billion in bank debt. The assets they hold, including the office building and factory, are worth about twelve billion."

There it was. The cascade of billions made my breath catch. So what was the total? I pulled out my phone and punched at the calculator.

"Roughly... 63.2 billion won?"

"The bank debt could probably be negotiated down by about half during the acquisition process."

Zephyros explained that the banks would likely prefer writing off half rather than letting the corporation go bankrupt entirely and salvaging only scrap value.

"So subtract twenty-four billion... 39.2 billion. Minus the asset value, 27.2 billion."

Of course, the assets couldn't be sold off, so they had to be subtracted. Subtract them and you're left with a red-bean bun with no filling. Why bother buying? Still, for a mid-tier pharmaceutical company, it was arguably cheap. But it was still an astronomical sum. With my entire fortune of barely two billion won, it was a mountain I couldn't possibly climb.

"That said, if you draw up a solid repayment plan, the banks will extend the repayment period. What you need right now is the employee wages, the dungeon lease fees, and the taxes."

"That's 15.2 billion won."

"Got 15.2 billion?"

"Nope."

"Then it's a bust."

Logically, he was right... but somehow it felt like a waste to let this slip away.

"Could I at least declare intent to acquire and run ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a due diligence?"

"Hmm. If you're that serious about it... fine."

He made another call somewhere, and when he hung up, he shrugged.

"They'll allow limited due diligence on two sites only: the Cheonan factory and the dungeon."

"Those two are plenty."

All I needed to confirm was whether the factory had usable production equipment, and whether I could deal with that cursed dungeon. Fortunately, it was exactly a 7th-stage gate, so even at level 7, I could enter it.

"Shall we head out now, then?"

"I can go alone."

"Look at this guy. Broke as a joke a few days ago, and now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his head's swelling. Listen, you're my partner. I'm the one who secured the permit. You think due diligence on a dying company is a walk in the park?"

"N-no, that's not it... You're busy, and I didn't want to waste your time on a dud..."

"I know. I'm kidding."

Zephyros flashed that signature mischievous grin that didn't match his age at all. Phew. No wonder I broke out in a sweat. I really did hate getting on this man's nerves. He was practically my benefactor... no, he was my benefactor.

"I have someone to bring along to the Cheonan factory."

"Fine. We'll take my car."

"...Then I feel even worse."

Cheonan and Daecheong Lake were quite a distance from Gangnam. The round trip alone would probably eat up half a day.

"It's fine. Sitting around the office all day just getting dirty looks—old fossils like me should clear out and make room."

"Thank you."

Somehow, the list of things I owed this man just kept growing. How was I ever going to repay him?

With Ms. Kyuson in tow, we arrived at the Cheonan factory and completed the inspection. Her reaction exceeded expectations.

"The equipment's a bit dated, but it's still perfectly usable! There are newer machines too. This is better than I hoped!"

"Okay. Great work. We're heading off to inspect the dungeon now, so you should head back, Ms. Kyuson. You can grab a taxi, right?"

"Of course."

Okay—half a pass, at least. After sending her off, Zephyros and I headed for the gate at Daecheong Lake. Near the entrance, alongside steel bars, signs were plastered everywhere: Seil Pharmaceuticals Property, Private Land, No Gate Entry Without Permit. There was a single listless caretaker on site, but he'd apparently already been contacted, and opened the gate for us without fuss.

"Whew. An underwater dungeon."

"Don't worry, the entrance isn't underwater. You don't have any swimming-type skills, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"I don't know where you get the confidence, proposing we scout a dungeon without even a swimming skill... but let's go in."

I took a deep breath and stepped through the gate.

Inside the gate, a lake spread out before me, its scenery subtly different from Daecheong Lake, and I stood at the water's edge.

"So, what exactly are you planning to do?"

"Figure something out, somehow."

I gave a light reply and, first things first, drew my staff from my inventory.

At least underwater, I now had an even more reliable friend than Unit One. An aquatic bacterium—one that secreted a substance with even stronger adhesive properties in water...

I unleashed every bacterium legion of Unit Two I possessed into the water, and gave the order at the same time.

'Secrete adhesive in a net formation, and let's sweep up every last fish in here.'

Unit Two obeyed, weaving a dense net of adhesive beneath the surface. Then the net began to move, this way and that, at my will. The net itself carried such overwhelming adhesive power that anything caught in it—monster or not—wouldn't be escaping easily. The monsters, I figured, had never imagined a dungeon could produce a net.

At first, the Sawtooth Ichthyosaurs that stuck to the adhesive net didn't seem bothered. But then more ichthyosaurs stuck to the net, and then more still—

"......!"

They thrashed against each other, desperate to break free. Each one flailed toward its own chosen direction, and the strength of one ichthyosaur canceled out the strength of another. Without exerting a single ounce of effort myself, I watched the creatures exhaust themselves against their own struggles. Should I call this "using barbarians to tame barbarians"?

Worse, the dozens of ichthyosaurs now dangling from the net couldn't bear the weight and began slowly sinking toward the bottom. Some thirty minutes passed like that—

Three levels in an instant, and my vision flooded with system messages. And that wasn't all.

This time, it seemed I hadn't set a record for the fastest clear in history. The ichthyosaurs had needed time to exhaust themselves to death, after all. And I'd only received the clear judgment—I hadn't been ejected from the gate. This was a standard gate, not an instanced dungeon. Given time, those monsters would presumably respawn.

"Ha, hahaha..."

The clear message must have appeared for Zephyros too. Whether he'd checked it or not, he let out a hollow, booming laugh.

"I have no idea what trick you pulled... but it's... cleared."

"Yes, it is."

"But we've got a problem."

"A problem?"

"Sure, you killed them. But how are you going to collect them? We didn't come here just to clear the gate—the byproducts are the whole point."

"Ah, right."

I touched the water at the lakeshore and recalled the Unit Two bacteria. The adhesive lost its potency at the same moment, dispersing into the water. With the net that had been compressing everything gone, the carcasses of the Sawtooth Ichthyosaurs lying on the lakebed began bobbing up on their buoyancy.

Before long, the entire surface of the lake was packed with dozens of Sawtooth Ichthyosaurs floating belly-up, pale as overturned boats—and Zephyros could do nothing but wear a look of utter disgust.