Chapter 197: Three Calamities (12)

Lee Taebaek.

So, I looked at Biyeon.

Why was this happening? For some reason, it felt like a shadow had suddenly fallen behind her out of nowhere. A person popped into my mind.

Two, actually.

The first one went without saying. It was her.

With the Heavenly Demon right in front of me, I briefly reminisced about the past. It just felt connected to Biyeon somehow.

Team Leader Seo.

She was like a single lotus blooming in the hellhole of a black company. Just standing there, she drew people in like a magnet. Men and women alike hovered around, itching for a chance to chat her up. Plenty of the male employees timed their exits to match hers.

I didn’t think they were idiots. If anything, in their eyes, I was the pathetic one.

A total stick-in-the-mud.

Glued to my square monitor day in and day out. Maintained the bare minimum social ties, with zero personal hangouts with the coworkers.

Sure, individualism had taken root in modern Korean society.

‘Still, you can’t ignore what others think.’

I rejected that. I was always deep in game dev trance. While everyone else trailed after Team Leader Seo like lost puppies, I burned the midnight oil hunting bugs with fire in my eyes.

I was the guy trapped in a rectangular world. Not some escapist from a rough school life or anything. I just loved games. More precisely, the act of creating worlds thrilled me.

What a gloomy bastard I was. Nerds in any field are all shadowy types. “Nerd” is just a polite term—it’s basically otaku.

But the funny part? In the end, the one who stuck by Team Leader Seo’s side was none other than me.

One day, the office felt unusually chilly, so I peeled my eyes from the monitor and glanced around. Mine was the only computer still lit up. Turnover had hit nearly ninety percent.

“I noticed things getting emptier bit by bit, but…”

I awkwardly started to sit back down. Team Leader Seo was struggling with a heavy box in her arms. Back in the day, guys would’ve tripped over themselves to help. Now, with the staff dried up, those days were ancient history.

“Assistant Manager Lee?”

“Just the two of us left. Gotta help each other out.”

“Didn’t know you had this side to you. Thanks.”

“What kind of character did you think I was…?”

No choice but to step up. I grabbed the bottom of the box. Our hands brushed—warm skin on skin. Not entirely without effect.

…No, scratch that. My heart was pounding.

What a hypocrite I was. One minute judging those guys, the next acting just like them. I just didn’t show it outright.

“Thanks again, Assistant Manager Lee. But if you’re deep in work next time, don’t worry about helping.”

“Didn’t say I would next time.”

“Pfft! You’ve got a solid punch to your words, huh? Guess I overlooked the natural dopamine right next to me. Anyway, looking forward to more teamwork, Assistant Manager Lee!”

“……”

That day, I resolved to watch my step a bit more.

Ironically, though, that incident warmed things up between Team Leader Seo and me.

The Laykuns project was ongoing, so the company kept recruiting. They just wouldn’t improve conditions.

Fresh grads full of dreams shivered under the black company’s tyranny and bailed. I didn’t blame them. I was the freak. No normal person’s patience could survive that place.

Through the storm, Team Leader Seo held firm. Me? I had my lifelong dream project, Laykuns. But her? Was it pure sense of duty? The company didn’t seem to toss her any extra incentives.

I’d decided to keep a professional distance, so I didn’t pry. Too nosy anyway.

“Don’t you wonder why I stick around this hellish company, Assistant Manager Lee?”

She brought it up first.

I fiddled with the rim of an empty paper cup and nodded.

“Honestly, yeah. You must’ve guessed, but I’m here for my life’s dream: crafting a dystopian game. Doesn’t seem like that’s you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You keep injecting wuxia elements into the dystopia genre.”

“Eh?! What’s wrong with that!”

“Wuxia is trending in Korea these days, so no issue. Point is, to me, you seem more attached to the characters than the game itself… Sorry, that was rude.”

Her sharp gaze made me drop my eyes.

I could barely talk to women normally, yet I spilled everything to her. Coworkers or not, our worlds were worlds apart.

Team Leader Seo was premium talent flooded with offers. Hell, even without her degree, her looks alone could’ve sustained her as an influencer.

Me? Just a run-of-the-mill game dev. Nothing exceptional. My only pride was my love for Laykuns.

Social skills? Lacking. Dating? Zero experience, a youth essential missed. Couldn’t even gauge my own looks objectively.

My chest tightened. If only it were the exhaust fumes from low-flying traffic. I sneaked peeks at her expression.

“Assistant Manager Lee…”

She broke the awkward silence.

“…You’re surprisingly sweet?”

“Pardon?”

Had the dictionary definition of “sweet” changed?

“You’re saying I’m way too immersed in the NPCs, right? Yeah?”

“Didn’t use ‘over-immersed’ exactly…”

“Pfft!”

She laughed till tears welled up. I stared at her, crumpled paper cup in hand.

“Sorry, sorry.”

She dabbed her eye with a delicate finger.

“You’re right.”

Leaning on the rooftop railing, arms crossed, she tilted her head back. Clouds drifted hazily.

“Truth is, I want to connect with the NPCs inside Laykuns more than the game itself. You’ve got the worldbuilding covered anyway.”

“That’s intriguing.”

“What is?”

“Most people pick a favorite NPC. You say ‘them’—as in all of them. That’s what struck me.”

“Wow.”

Admiration.

Right timing for the context?

Her pursed lips relaxed.

“Assistant Manager Lee, I’m seeing you in a new light. You’re sharp.”

“Don’t tease.”

“Not teasing! Seriously! Goosebumps all over. You’re spot on.”

She gazed skyward again. A breeze tousled her bangs. Floral scent wafted.

“For some reason, the people in the Laykuns world feel like family. That’s why I suppress the urge to quit every morning. Hey, why the face? Did I say something wrong?”

“…No, not that.”

“What then? Spill it, Assistant Manager Lee.”

“Didn’t know you wanted to quit too…”

“Huh?!”

What was that adorable reaction?

“No way, Assistant Manager Lee! Were you secretly stressing over me leaving?”

I wasn’t honest.

But my actions said otherwise.

Rubbing my neck like someone hiding their feelings, I muttered,

“Not stressing that much… But if even you left, the project would tank for real. Unlike you, I need something solid on my resume if I jump ship.”

“Wait, you were planning to quit too?”

“Obviously.”

“Tch. Obvious, yeah, but just now…”

She grumbled with a pout.

“Salarymen all carry resignation letters in their hearts to work. Same here. And this company’s no joke. Glitzy group affiliate name, but we’re just marketing’s lapdogs.”

Nod, nod.

“I endure the BS by watching Laykuns‘ characters. Somehow, even in that dystopia, they’re fighting so fiercely—makes me think, ‘Compared to that, I’m doing okay.'”

“Like a parent’s pride?”

“Look at this guy. Turning a bright young woman into a mom already!”

Just a figure of speech.

Tucking in her protruding lower lip, she continued.

“Less maternal, more like camaraderie with old comrades. Lake City’s a strange stage, right? But… the people inside, especially the wuxia folk. They tug at my heart for some reason.”

“That’s why you keep pushing jianghu intruders into the dystopia?”

“Heh. Busted?”

You weren’t even hiding it.

‘Fascinating perspective.’

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. Her affection for NPCs felt different. But maybe this was the user’s eye level.

Devs view games through parental bias, overlooking flaws. “Even a hedgehog looks spiky to others, but smooth to its young.”

Users? Games are social hubs. Friends you forgive once or twice, but ditch if they keep disappointing.

In short, Team Leader Seo wore the same glasses as users. Rare among devs, especially for someone as talented as her. The elite tend toward massive egos.

“Team Leader.”

I locked eyes with her, gaze intense. She flinched.

“I-I’m not sure if I’m ready for… whatever this is…”

“Stick with me till the end of Laykuns, please.”

“…?”

“I can’t do it alone.”

“Hmm…”

She side-eyed me like a flounder. Worried she’d heard “bury ourselves in this black company”? As I opened my mouth again, she cut in.

“Don’t worry. No quit plans before Laykuns launches—not even a tiny bit.”

I smiled in relief.

She smiled back.

The world sharpened into focus. Lunch break ending; time to head down. Then curiosity struck.

“One question?”

“Shoot.”

“Among the NPCs, there must be one you’re closest to. Curious which.”

“Closest…?”

She furrowed her brow, lost in thought. Prodding her cheek with her index finger for a good while, she answered.

“Not sure about closest, but one evokes more than just camaraderie.”

“Who?”

“The Heavenly Demon.”

I blinked.

“She doesn’t even appear in Laykuns.”

“Exactly. Why… This maternal pull keeps nagging me.”

She brushed it off and trotted back to the office. I pondered on the stairwell landing before following.

“I see…”

Lee Taebaek opened his eyes to reality.

“Team Leader… you…”

The shadow flickering behind Biyeon.

I finally knew its true nature.