Taeyeon was summoned the moment he arrived at work and headed to Chairman Yoo Jin-seong’s office.
“You met Vice-Chairman Kim Jong-hak yesterday?”
“Huh? How did you know? I was going to keep it secret…”
“That punk bragged he took you to his house, had drinks, and decided you two are hyung and dongsaeng.”
“Ah…”
“Ungrateful brat. After all I’ve done for you… A rich guy waves money and you’re ready to jump ship?”
“What do you mean jump ship? We only had dinner together.”
“That guy likes people, sure, but he doesn’t bring just anyone into his house. So, what did he say? He’ll bankroll you—told you to quit fast and set up a company? Or join the group and run a game studio?”
Taeyeon sighed and confessed what had happened the night before—except for that brief talk about starting his own firm.
Chairman Yoo listened in silence, the veins on his forehead forming a clear川, and muttered.
“So the jerk plays dirty and uses a beauty trap? Only a week ago I warned him not to covet what’s mine… Where’s my phone?”
Taeyeon asked, baffled.
“What beauty trap?”
“He introduced you to Kim Yuna and had her sit beside you at dinner, didn’t he?”
“I just said I was a fan and sister-in-law invited her. Why call that a trap? That’s an insult to Ms. Kim Yuna!”
“Old saying: husband and wife are of one mind.”
“You’re going too far. That’s really not it.”
“Then answer me this: did you or did you not exchange numbers with Kim Yuna?”
“…”
When Taeyeon clammed up, Chairman Yoo exploded.
“See?”
“Only because Ms. Yuna asked first…”
“He must’ve fed her something behind the scenes. Otherwise, why would the world-famous Kim Yuna want your number?”
“Th-that’s…”
“What are you, anyway? Not handsome, not rich, not tall, not built—”
“…”
A blow to the solar plexus with Mjölnir—utter devastation!
He really went too far.
The fact it was unarguable hurt all the more.
Properly miffed, Taeyeon muttered loud enough to hear.
“Maybe I really should take the investment and go independent.”
“What, punk? What did you just say?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You did!”
“I told you, nothing.”
It was a drastic dose, but Chairman Yoo’s barrage of facts cooled Taeyeon’s head.
Right, who am I kidding…
Before the dinner ended, while exchanging numbers with everyone, Taeyeon had fleetingly wondered if Kim Yuna might be the least bit interested in him.
Thinking back now, she’d clearly asked out of courtesy so he wouldn’t feel awkward.
In truth, their phones held the numbers but neither had messaged the other.
“But what exactly did Vice-Chairman Kim like about me?”
A man of his stature surely investigated everything in advance.
As a game developer Taeyeon’s résumé was unusual, yet not so amazing a chaebol heir would take special interest.
He pondered whether he had some special trait even he didn’t know, but nothing came to mind.
Still, it wasn’t unpleasant. Thanks to him I dined in a lovely home with two stunning stars—an unforgettable experience.
Who could say when they might meet again? Even if such luck never returned he wouldn’t be disappointed.
Just a once-in-a-lifetime, extraordinary surprise.
Best to leave it at that.
“Oh? Good morning.”
Passing by, he ran into Deputy Jo Seon-ah.
She was undeniably pretty, but after seeing the heavenly top stars the night before, she somehow looked ordinary.
I’m a man after all…
Blasphemous thoughts for a lifelong single…
Taeyeon hurriedly erased his conceit and asked with a smile.
“Got a date tonight?”
“Pardon? No plans… why?”
“You’re dressed so nicely, I was curious.”
“Wow, PD Yoo can say things like that?”
Rather than happy at the compliment, she only looked surprised that someone who never spoke that way had done so.
Yes, that’s my place. Let’s never harbor vain pride.
As a salaried CEO buried under mountains of work, fluttery feelings about romance were a luxury.
After the chat, he returned to his desk, handled tasks, and steeled himself again.
Three days later another message arrived from Vice-Chairman Kim Jong-hak.
[Come to my place for dinner tonight. My wife invited you.]
This time the invitation came from none other than Han Seol-a.
Didn’t I just tell myself to stay grounded…
Yet a strange anticipation began to rise.
No foolish hopes. I’m nothing special. They probably think I’m a nice guy living alone and pitied me enough to feed me a good meal.
Still, invited he was. After some thought, Taeyeon stopped by the department store near the office, bought a few highly-rated wines, a cheese set for snacks, a bouquet for Han Seol-a, and a premium red-ginseng tonic set, then headed to Seopan-gyo.
“Oh my, thank you for the gifts!”
“Hahahaha!”
Han Seol-a received the presents happily, but Kim Jong-hak laughed himself breathless.
“Red ginseng tonic? And it’s from one of our subsidiaries. Are you trying to amuse me?”
“It’s just that my parents loved it when I gave them some before… Is it weird?”
“No, I like it. Suits me fine.”
Dinner was already laid out: tenderloin steak and salmon salad as the mains, paired with one of Taeyeon’s wines.
“Just wait a bit. Yuna will be here soon.”
“Ms. Yuna?”
When Taeyeon repeated the name in surprise, Han Seol-a smiled.
“Actually, I sounded her out—asked what she thought of you.”
Taeyeon tensed like a student awaiting college-entrance results; Vice-Chairman Kim watched his expression as if enjoying a film.
“Yuna said you seem kind, talk well, give off a good vibe.”
“Ah…”
“So I asked if she’d join us for dinner tonight, and she accepted at once. Nice, right?”
“Ah…”
Unbelievable.
The star he’d admired was thinking well of him!
Soon Kim Yuna arrived, dressed much like the night before. Taeyeon couldn’t hide his tremble as they greeted and began their second dinner together.
NexpleOver the meal Taeyeon recounted how he’d come to Nexple. The topic arose because they asked how he’d entered Nexple and become close to Chairman Yoo.
Naturally he had to mention the unjust treatment from CEO Kang Geon at Bless, the Nexple presentation and investment decision, and the fracas during his job change.
These were events even seasoned office workers seldom experience. Vice-Chairman Kim, and Han Seol-a and Kim Yuna, who knew little of corporate life, listened intently.
Throughout, work messages and calls kept coming from his developers. Taeyeon apologized and handled them as fast as possible, yet the flow of conversation inevitably broke.
“Really sorry. One of the online games I manage is in CBT right now.”
“What’s CBT?” Han Seol-a asked.
“It stands for ‘closed beta test,’ which is…”
Used to teaching rookies and students, Taeyeon explained in plain language.
Starting from CBT, he told amusing episodes connected to his current work: flying to Japan at CEO Kim Myung-uk’s request, the impromptu gameplay demonstration that persuaded Producer Takizawa Satoshi, and so on.
While they talked merrily, he glanced at the time—already nine p.m.
Taeyeon checked a few messages and sighed.
“I should head back to the office and work.”
Everyone reacted in surprise.
“Is there that much to do?” Kim Yuna asked.
“Normally not this much, but the timing… I need to watch the server close and discuss business with the Nexple Entertainment CEO.”
He thanked the couple earnestly.
“Tonight was wonderful. Best meal of my life. Thank you for having me.”
Truth be told, he wished he could stay longer, but he’d enjoyed enough; it was time to return to work.
Out of courtesy he said,
“Next time, let me invite the three of you to Nexple. I’ll show you the game I’m developing and give you a tour—you’ll have a good time.”
The Monster Eater Online CBT concluded safely. No critical issues arose, and every team did its best.
User feedback was positive.
—Honestly, I was worried about live service, but they handled it fine. Bug reports got good responses and fixes.
—Starting out already caught up to the global build—that’s great. Localization seems solid and I haven’t seen a single typo.
—Still think melee DPS is disadvantaged. I mailed them once a day; we’ll see at launch.
Taeyeon didn’t leave user support solely to the ops team. Some veteran gamers posed hard questions, and whenever that happened Taeyeon stepped in.
He personally wrote patch notes for users, posted them, and answered comments. Even when someone hurled insults he responded gently.
To him, nothing unusual: under CEO Kang Geon he had run live operations and learned the ropes. Then as now, there were plenty of sharp, touchy, overly sensitive users.
Taeyeon was seasoned at handling them.
Word of this spread among players and sparked amusing reactions.
—PD Yoo himself handles customer service; wish he’d run other games too.
—So many games are being ruined by bad ops—can’t they just give full live-service authority to PD Yoo?
Requests poured in asking Taeyeon to manage other titles. Posts like that appeared on the official site, cafes, and forums.
Of course it was impossible, and most posters knew that.
They were just lamenting the sight of long-loved games wrecked by poor service or patches. Taeyeon understood and quietly laughed it off.
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