The Resigned Game Developer Is Too Capable Chapter 8

Taeyeon began full‑scale recruiting. He posted notices on several sites and tapped past connections—Choi Jonghak and others—to get developer referrals.

Two days later, the résumés started pouring in.

HR forwarded dozens at once.

So many.

Still, nothing shocking; he had handled piles like this whenever he’d run hiring while directing.
But he realized the flood was just beginning the very next day.

The mail queue seemed endless.

So this is Nexple. The scale of applicants is on a different level.

This was after HR had already done a first‑round sift.

Since he was picking department heads first, Taeyeon clicked through the résumés and let out low whistles.

Every one of them boasted impressive education and experience—some had degrees from prestigious overseas universities.

Why would someone who worked on Pokémon want to join a Korean studio?

Wait—background artist on the latest console Spider‑Man? Is this résumé even real?

The glare from so much glittering talent hurt his eyes.

Wondering if his eyesight was going, Taeyeon began scheduling interviews.


First interview: a male animator from Santa Monica Studio, latest credit the famous action–adventure God of War.

Suppressing nerves, Taeyeon greeted him.

“Hello, I’m Producer Yoo Taeyeon of Universe Studio.”

“I’m animator Jason Hong—Hong Minseok is fine.”

Fair‑skinned, neat casual suit, gentle features: a handsome young man.

First thing, Taeyeon popped open the status window.

[Hong Minseok]
(Animator · Concept Artist · 3D Modeler · Cinematic Director)

Animation      13/10 (15)
3D Modeling     9/10 (15)
Concept Art     9/10
Cinematics     11/10 (15)
Environment     8/10
FX              8/10
Affinity        5/10

He almost screamed.

A monster!

This man was the real deal—ability stats he had never seen before.

Swallowing, Taeyeon asked,

“Your résumé is stellar—what makes you want to join a Korean studio?”

He answered evenly,

“My wife wants to live in Korea. She’d like to raise our kids here.”

“Ah…”

“She’s a developer too—a concept artist. We met at Santa Monica. I guess living in the U.S. was tough for her.”

A thought clicked. Riffling the papers, Taeyeon pulled one out.

Lee Youngae, right?”

“Yes. We applied together—we’d like to work at the same company.”

A real family man, Taeyeon mused—and he liked him.

The issue was salary.

Asking over one hundred million won… more than me.

Taeyeon’s pay at Nexple was about 80 million; Hong wanted 20 million more.

But of the hundreds of résumés, Taeyeon had chosen to interview Hong first: he needed to see if Hong fit as art director.

Status‑window pass. Next: communication and leadership. If those flop, no hire, regardless of skill.

The high salary was heavy, but for the right AD it would be worth it.

He’s today’s only interview—let’s spend the whole day watching him.

Decision made, Taeyeon smiled.

“Does Ms. Lee Youngae have time right now?”


She was as graceful and charming as her name.

“Hello. I’m concept artist Lee Youngae.”

White maxi‑skirt, leather jacket—odd combination that suited her perfectly. Hair down to the waist, well kept; a constant bright smile.

“You two look wonderful together,” Taeyeon said.

“Thank you. You look great too, PD‑nim.”

Quite the contrast, he noted: Lee bright and lively, Hong blunt and nearly expressionless.

The difference showed even more in the brainstorm session for the Pantheon project with Baek Younghoon.

“A modern sky city where various gods and their followers live—that’s a great idea,” Lee said.

“We’re still listing rough ideas,” Taeyeon explained—“like Artemis running a giant beauty corporation.”

Lee’s reactions kept the mood upbeat, while Hong silently sketched at speed.

As forms appeared, everyone’s eyes fixed on his paper.

“How about this feel?”

In moments he produced a piece so polished they gasped.

Baek stared wide‑eyed, clearly shocked.

Lee cocked her head, snatched pen and paper, tweaked the drawing, and held it up.

“Wouldn’t this be better?”

Now Taeyeon matched Baek’s reaction.

He checked her status window:

[Lee Youngae]
(Concept Artist · Webtoon Author)

Animation        7/10
3D Modeling      7/10
Concept Art     14/10 (15)
Cinematics      12/10 (15)
Environment     11/10
FX              12/10 (15)
Affinity         5/10

Husband and wife—both monsters!

He reread her résumé:

CalArts graduate.
Character designer, Disney Animation Studio.
Character designer, Blizzard Entertainment.

All before Santa Monica. Plus a popular slice‑of‑life webtoon.

Love her personality, too.

Even the best self‑promoters reveal cracks after long talk; neither of them did. Raised in U.S. studios, they questioned freely yet never rudely, listened intently.

When Taeyeon fell quiet, the couple also grew serious—they sensed a pivotal moment.

Baek coughed, “Should I… step out?”

Taeyeon nodded. Once Baek left, he asked,

“I’m wrestling with something big. Know what it is?”

“Well… what?” Lee replied softly, tension in her eyes.

No answer no matter how I think. He gave up with a sigh.

“Which of you wants to be art director? Decide between yourselves, please.”


With far more experience, Hong Min‑seok became Art Director; Lee Young‑ae, Concept‑Art Lead.

“Looking forward to working with you.”

“We’ll give our best.”

“Thank you for taking such care of us.”

Their Affinity each rose two points, now 7—thanks to two things.

First: a 100‑million‑won salary (after tax) that Taeyeon offered right away and they gladly accepted.

Second: he gave up his allocated parking spot and arranged for their little daughter to get into the company day‑care—top‑class facilities, nationally praised.

No wonder their Affinity went up.

“Let’s make a truly fun game,” Taeyeon said.

“With a welcome like this, we’ll do everything we can!”


TF team members now:

  • Planning/Scenario – Baek Younghoon
  • Art Director – Hong Minseok
  • Concept‑Art Lead – Lee Youngae
  • Producer – Yoo Taeyeon

Hong mostly listened, then dropped heavy insights; Lee reacted warmly to even small comments and offered steady ideas—energizing the team.

After lunch the four drank coffee, talking hiring.

“Skill matters, but I want people who communicate well and mesh with the team. Know anyone suitable?”

Lee smiled apologetically. “Sorry—everyone we know is a foreigner who can’t speak Korean…”

Looks like we’ll hire through interviews.

Referrals are great because skill and personality come pre‑vouched; luck had run its course—now the interview grind would begin.


That afternoon Taeyeon started: three interviews in three hours.

Exhausted, he trudged back to his desk and collapsed.

I’m wiped.

Both body and mind were drained.

Baek, watching, spoke cautiously.

“PD‑nim, we have a meeting…”

“….”

Taeyeon rose like a zombie.

Three days, fifteen interviews—no one he absolutely wanted.


Friday morning: instead of the office, Taeyeon headed to S University in Sillim‑dong, Gwanak‑gu.

“Good morning, PD‑nim! Did you prepare well?”

Cho Seona approached, dazzling. Formal office look: warm pink turtleneck, beige suit pants, white coat. Her striking features and milky skin made a perfect ensemble—or so Taeyeon thought.

“You look amazing—great fashion sense!”

“Really? Glad to hear it. I rarely dress like this… visiting my alma mater made me want to.”

“Everyone will only look at you—you’re too beautiful…”

The sincere praise delighted Seona.

“If the lecture goes well, lunch is on me—I know all the best spots here!”

She was a superb helper.

First they met the dean of the art college; with her smooth talk, a short chat went excellently, and Taeyeon—who said little beyond greetings—was suddenly viewed as a young, brilliant, forward‑thinking producer.

“Please give a great lecture today.”

“I’ll do my best.”

And so a high‑school‑graduate producer began his talk before elite fine‑arts students.


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

error: Content is protected !!

Discover more from Pen and Paper Translations

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading