Game Director from Hell

Chapter 54: Recruitment (1)

It’s a familiar yet unfamiliar scene.

That was my first thought as I looked out the window at the view of Pangyo Techno Valley.

“I used to be here.”

Memories from a past life overlapped.

I had lived in this neighbourhood for a quarter of my previous life. When I rummaged through my memories, I could vaguely imagine the future of Pangyo.

“The restaurant district.”

That intersection used to be a restaurant district where the prices were outrageously high, but the lines were disgustingly long. There was a popular soba restaurant that people lined up for, and a traditional Korean restaurant where people prepared for overtime work during rush hours.

All of that would soon be in this place.

What had already opened was a cheap fast food restaurant that would eventually go out of business with the quality of “Only Somone who is threatened will eat this?”.

“And the cafe town.”

Next to it, an alley was filled with franchise cafes. During lunchtime, you had to stand in line the whole time just to get a cup of coffee.

“And…”

The company I used to work for.

In the distance, I saw a fairly large building.

It was a building that hadn’t been occupied yet.

Suddenly, a nostalgic feeling welled up inside me.

The fact that I had returned to this neighbourhood, and that I would be commuting to a different place, was hitting me.

While I was trying to shake off those emotions, Han Seorim spoke.

“It’s really a vast wilderness.”

“Yeah, we’re just starting to move in now.”

“Do we really need to work here? It’s so far from everything. The transportation is inconvenient.”

“It’ll get better gradually. Trust me on that.”

From what I remembered, in about 3 to 4 years, the public transportation lines in this area would improve. Until then, we might have to rely on shuttle services, but it wasn’t a big deal compared to the advantage of being able to move in early.

“This place will become the centre of Korean IT. We’ll have an overwhelming advantage in terms of infrastructure.”

Not only that, but all the major Korean game companies would be concentrated here. It would be harder to find a significant game company that wasn’t located here.

I didn’t need to explain the advantages of such infrastructure in detail.

The important thing was that now, when Studio Rewind needed to start expanding in earnest, if we didn’t seize such a good location, it would be a foolish move.

“We’re almost done with the move, so start thinking about the layout of the Art team’s office. You’ll be in charge of that, so it should be tailored to your environment.”

“How many people are you planning to hire, anyway?”

“For now, about 20 to 30 for the art team.”

“That many?”

“This is actually on the small side. We’ll expand gradually.”

Han Seorim looked sceptical, but this was the average.

In AAA-grade games, art was crucial, and just allocating 2 to 3 people for each department, even if we assumed a 2:3 ratio between graphics and illustration, was still far from enough.

“You’re good at managing people. Don’t worry too much.”

I patted Han Seorim’s shoulder.

I wasn’t just saying this. Among all the people at Studio Rewind, Han Seorim was the most reliable person.

Even if we set aside the fact that she was one of the founding members, she had a sharp mind and excellent leadership qualities.

If I gave her a whole floor, she would probably manage it just fine.

The only concern was the future company employee community, but…that wasn’t a problem I needed to think about right now.

Han Seorim hesitated for a moment, then sighed deeply and said, “Raise my salary.”

“Is a salary increase all you want? When we go public, you’ll be a major shareholder.”

“Are you tying us together by shares?”

“Yeah, for life.”

“That sounds terrible.”

There’s really no need to make such a contemptuous expression…

While thinking, Han Seorim turned around.

“When will you hire people?”

“Soon.”

“How soon is ‘soon’?”

“There’s someone I need to hire first. After I get him…”

Hiring employees is an essential part of building a solid foundation. And it’s also about finances. Up to this point, I’ve managed to handle it within my capabilities, but once we start expanding significantly, my limited management skills will only create holes in the dam.

So, we need to hire.

“We should start with managers.”

From the perspective of someone who used to be a director, they were dreadful devils. But from the company’s perspective, they were indispensable pillars. They were commonly known as “suit-wearers,” with names starting with ‘C,’ such as ‘C-bastard’ and ‘CAO,’ among others. They were nothing other than the business department.

“Hmm, do you have anyone in mind?”

“Yeah, one person.”

Recruiting talent. It’s one of the rare moments when the advantages of going back can be utilized.

“How are you planning to approach him?”

Memories resurfaced. My gaze was fixed on a distant snack bar.

That’s how it is in a company. When there’s someone like me, treated as a troublemaker by superiors, there are also those who receive overflowing love and become idols.

He was like that.

“Assistant Manager Yang is really cool, isn’t he?”

“Absolutely! He’s young and talented. Isn’t he rewriting the company’s promotion records?”

Yang Gilsang, the icon of a successful suit-wearer. He had lived in the United States from middle school, graduated from university there, gained three years of practical experience, and then returned to Korea to join the company as a super elite.

Why did such an exceptional person join the company? There are few people who truly know the reason. Perhaps, there’s only me.

If you were to ask how I knew, there was only one answer I could give.

“Hmm? Is this Cheon Yeonho?”

“…Assistant Manager Yang.”

We were meal buddies. Whether you could call that friendship, I’m not sure.

“I see you here. Do you like this place’s snacks?”

Back then, in the second year of my employment, Pangyo didn’t have many dining options, and seeking culinary delights required enduring the labor of “waiting in long lines.”

The snack bar that had the stance of “Who’s threatening you to eat this?” survived for six years because of that.

I met Yang Gilsang at that snack bar.

“Can I join you for a meal?”

“…Sure.”

“Wow, thanks. Their bibimbap here is amazing, right?”

He discovered that it was a quiet place for a meal and realized that it had become his regular spot on his third visit.

I was eating bibimbap, burying my head in it. He approached from a distance and joined me, ordering bibimbap as well.

If you were to evaluate first impressions, it was like that.

“I heard you graduated top of your class at Korea University… Are you doing well at work?”

A guy who memorized other people’s profiles and recited them.

His smiling face was the perfect example of a suit-wearer’s physiognomy, so I wasn’t inclined to like him.

“There’s a lot to learn.”

“Oh, you’re being humble. People used to say you’re really smart.”

“…I mostly just get scolded.”

“I think it’s good to be assertive. Manager Kang sometimes says that Yeonho is not a suitable talent for a domestic game company.”

“Isn’t that an insult?”

“The word “talent” was used, so it was a compliment actually”

I responded casually, feeling uncomfortable with the pretence of being close.

After that meeting, quite often, without much thought, we would run into each other at that snack bar and have a meal together.

That’s exactly the kind of relationship we had.

Meeting on the street, exchanging greetings, not curious about each other’s well-being, and not seeking personal closeness – a brief connection that you forget when you turn around.

“Today, are you having bibimbap again?”

“It’s the soul food of Koreans, you know. I really missed it in the US. So, how’s the tteokbokki from Yungho today?”

“Feels like I’m eating animal feed.”

“You’re being sarcastic.”

We didn’t bother talking about work.

The topics that came up during our meal were about food, brief comments on the news on TV, and other light conversations that could be had within the short 20-minute mealtime.

I learned about Yang Gilsang’s past during those times.

“This company? I came here because I love games. But I realized I didn’t have the talent for development. I couldn’t feel the same excitement in development as I did when playing games. So, I switched to the business department. I’m pretty good at using my head though.”

“I’ve heard a lot about it. The youngest deputy manager…”

“Hehe, you’re embarrassing me.”

He loved games but lacked the talent for development, which was the reason.

Even after that, we had quite a few conversations, but in reality, there was nothing else I remembered about the person Yang Gilsang.

The strange connection between him and me came to an end on the day the snack bar closed down.

I was on the verge of a promotion to team leader, and he was in the midst of being nominated for a director position.

“Now, even this bibimbap here will come to an end.”

“Yes.”

“Where will you eat now, Yeonho?”

“Well, I’ll have to look for somewhere else. What about Director Yang?”

“I will have to go to the company cafeteria. Their bibimbap there is too bland, but what can I do?”

The last menu for both of us was bibimbap.

That day, we finished our meal without any special words.

There were no farewells.

After all, we would run into each other as we went back and forth in the company.

“Now, let’s go back to work.”

That was our last conversation we had.

After I left, he was promoted to director before I even resigned.

Becoming a director in your late 30s was a remarkable achievement.

Anyway, putting aside that past, what I needed to focus on was Yang Gilsang’s abilities.

I knew better than anyone else how capable he was in office management, having observed his growth within the same company.

He was exactly what we needed.

A growing company like Studio Rewind would be vulnerable to managerial shortcomings as it expanded.

As far as I knew, the best way to address that issue was Yang Gilsang.

A sweet option, why go far?

Just pick him up.

So, the problem was how to approach Yang Gilsang and where to meet him at this point.

It wasn’t that difficult.

I entered the snack bar.

“Welcome!”

He was there.

Wearing a red apron, shining glasses, and a friendly smile.

The icon of an elite intellectual, Yang Gilsang.

The reason he frequented this snack bar was none other than because of this.

“Mom! We have a guest!”

This guy was the snack bar owner’s son.

“In fact, this is my mom’s place.”

“?”

“I’m sorry. Actually, yesterday, Yeonho said the teokbokki tasted like animal feed, right? It was a mistake, a mistake. But I felt guilty for keeping that to myself.”

“The owner’s gaze is quite sharp.”

“I told her well, so just bear with it for today. But you did say you like bibimbap.”

The past and the present overlapped.

Yang Gilsang spoke nervously, just as I remembered him from my memories.

“Would you like to sit here at this vacant table? Oh, all the tables are vacant? Hahaha, we haven’t had many customers since we opened! Oh, by the way, what menu would you like?”

“Bibimbap.”

“Oh, excellent choice! It’s our store’s signature dish!”

I sat down and looked at Yang Gilsang.

More precisely, I looked at his head.

Hair slicked back with pomade.

A gentle M-shaped hairline.

With that, I sighed, overlaying my memories from the past.

“At that time, it was this thick.”

For quite a while, I realized something while meeting and having meals together up close.

Yang Gilsang’s hairline had been receding further and further as time went by.

And,

“Oh, my hair? I shaved it because it was stuffy. Like a real bald man.”

He eventually resorted to shaving his head, unable to watch the receding hairline.

“Baldness? Nah, it’s just a style. A cool one.”

Five years later, Yang Gilsang became bald.

It hurt.

***

Yang Gilsang, 29 years old.

After three years in the financial and business sector in the United States, he returned to his home country and now helps his mother with her store, enjoying some leisure time.

As always during lunch, while eating his bibimbap, Gilsang noticed a customer who seemed oddly familiar.

“Why does he look so familiar?”

Gilsang squinted his eyes.

Despite his best efforts, that annoyingly handsome face seemed familiar.

But he couldn’t remember who he was.

“It’s strange…”

Gilsang was usually good at remembering people’s names and faces. He could even recall the faces and names of his classmates from elementary school.

But he couldn’t figure out who this man was.

It was odd. If someone looked so familiar that it gave him a sense of déjà vu, it meant he had definitely seen that person’s face before.

And if that person was as good-looking as this man, there was no way he would forget.

Gilsang absentmindedly rubbed his forehead, a habit he had when deep in thought.

Then, out of nowhere, the man spoke.

“Excuse me.”

“Oh, yes!”

Gilsang stood up and approached the man with a friendly smile.

The bibimbap bowl was empty.

“Oh, you finished already?”

Usually, people couldn’t finish their meal, but it seemed this man had quite a modest appetite.

Thanks to his annoyingly familiar face, Gilsang’s dwindling interest in him increased slightly.

Gilsang’s smile grew wider.

“Can I bring the bill for you?”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“Would you mind sitting for a moment?”

The man pushed the bibimbap bowl aside.

Gilsang hesitated for a moment, wondering why it would matter when there were no other customers.

He asked, “Why?”

Without much concern, he decided to sit down across from him.

“Why are you doing this?”

It wouldn’t really matter since there were no other customers, Gilsang thought.

As he thought about it and was about to ask, the man handed him a business card.

“I’m this kind of person.”

It was right after that.

“Oh!”

Gilsang realized why the man looked so familiar when he read the name on the business card.

His eyes widened as if they were about to burst.

His mouth opened in shock.

“Right! I remember where have I seen you before!”

Gilsang jumped up with an excited expression.

It didn’t matter,

“Studio Rewind! Hellic!”

Gilsang was also an enthusiastic player of Hellic.

Gilsang’s index finger pointed at the logo.

“3-Meter Alice!”

“?”

“…The director was cosplaying her!”

It couldn’t be recognized immediately.

What Gilsang saw was a picture of Cheon Yeong dressed as a character from the community!

Gilsang happily said,

“I had a great time playing the game!”

“… “

Director Cheon’s mouth remained tightly /RomanceMTL