Chapter 4

Fourteen Pages

"Article 1. Party A shall manage all Hunter activities of Party B. Except here it says 'activites.'"

"...Yeah, that's a typo."

While Doyun took out a pen to fix the word, Taeha was already reading the next line.

One p.m., the table beside the counter at Malsun PC Bang. Oh Malsun was pretending to punch her calculator at the counter with her ears wide open in this direction. The six customers in the shop each had their faces buried in a monitor. The bus stop video had already passed 80,000 views, but the only person in this shop who'd seen it was Grandma.

Taeha had a peculiar way of reading a contract. He'd read a line, put his finger on it, flip back a page, then come back to that line. If the same word showed up in a different clause, he'd look back and forth between the two.

"You always read like that?"

"It's how I read patch notes. Devs hide nerfs. Up front they call it a buff, and then later it's like, 'However, under certain conditions.'"

Doyun held back a laugh and thought: If this kid had read the Zeus contract like this in the past life, he'd never have signed a seven-year slave deal. Back then, Taeha hadn't read the contract. He'd needed money for Grandma's shop window, fast.

At Article 3, Taeha's finger stopped.

"Revenue split. Party B 70, Party A 30."

"Right."

"Party B is me?"

"Right."

"I get 70?"

"Right."

Taeha looked up. He looked more suspicious than he had at the bus stop an hour ago.

"That's weird."

"What is?"

"You're the one doing everything. Getting people to move, putting up cones, buying drinks. And you give me 70?"

"You're the one who fights."

"Game companies don't pay like that. Pro teams don't pay players like that."

When Taeha said the words pro team, his voice dropped just slightly. Doyun didn't miss it.

It was a story he'd heard in an interview in his past life. At nineteen, Taeha had been confirmed for a pro gaming team, but two weeks before his debut match the sponsor pulled out and the team was disbanded. The contract had a line that said "This contract terminates automatically upon dissolution of the team," and there was no penalty and no compensation. After that, Taeha held the No. 1 ranking for years, but he never joined another team.

Doyun didn't bring it up. It wasn't time to act like he knew yet.

"Scammers are always nice up front. You know that, right?"

"I know."

"So that's why it's weird."

Doyun scratched his head with the pen. A convincing explanation would have been nice. He didn't have one.

"...I don't really know contract stuff either. Ten years as a manager, and the company's legal team always wrote the contracts. I downloaded a standard contract template off the internet last night and spent all night fixing it. There's only one thing I know. All the bad contracts I've seen were set up so the talent loses. So I wrote it the other way around."

"...That's it?"

"That's it."

Taeha turned the page, unconvinced.

At Article 5, Taeha stopped again. This time disbelief had overtaken the suspicion on his face.

"'Party B's working hours may not exceed eight hours per day, five days per week, and Party A shall not permit otherwise even if Party B so wishes.'"

"Right."

"It says even if I want to, I can't."

"Right. I really wanted that one in there."

"...Why?"

Instead of answering, Doyun put his finger on the next line. Taeha read it.

"'Party B may not enter a Gate on an empty stomach. On any day with less than six hours of sleep, Party B shall rest. Within 48 hours of activity, Party B shall undergo a checkup at a hospital designated by Party A. Party A shall bear the cost.'"

Taeha looked up. His face said he was thinking about the five empty energy drink cans stacked beside his keyboard.

"You wrote this aimed at me."

"I wrote it aimed at the entire country. You just happen to be first."

The last industry news Doyun had seen in his past life was an article about three A-rank Zeus Hunters collapsing from overwork in the same week. All three had gone into Gates fourteen times that week. The company explained it as "their own strong will." Doyun even knew who'd written that statement.

"...I've just seen too many people collapse like that."

Taeha didn't answer and moved on to the next page. But before he turned it, he scored a small line with his fingernail in the margin beside that clause. A mark for a spot to come back to later.

Article 9 was about termination.

"'Party B may terminate this contract at any time by written notice. There is no penalty.'"

Taeha read the line three times. He flipped back a page, then came back. The eyes of someone hunting for a proviso.

"...There's no 'however.'"

"Nope."

"There's no 'However, under certain conditions.'"

"...Am I supposed to put that in?"

Doyun asked it seriously. Taeha looked at him like he couldn't believe it.

"Don't."

"Okay."

"No, but then where's your cut? If I can walk any time I want."

"The 30."

"What are you gonna do with 30 when you don't even have an office?"

"...Good question."

Doyun laughed. A laugh that came out because he genuinely had no answer. In the past life, Zeus had pulled in two hundred Hunters over seven years on Kang Taeha's name alone, and half of those two hundred got injured and retired within three years. Those numbers were all Doyun knew. What would be left if you did the opposite—he wouldn't know until he tried.

It took an hour and forty minutes to get through the last page. Taeha found seven more typos, and Doyun fixed every one. Meanwhile, Oh Malsun boiled two cups of noodles and set them on the table. One in front of Taeha, one in front of Doyun. She didn't say a word.

Taeha closed the contract and laid his palm on top of it.

"Read it."

"Okay."

"Pass."

Doyun nodded. The most common answer you could expect at a first meeting.

"Mind if I ask why?"

"It's a hassle."

"Not that. The real reason."

Taeha didn't answer for a long while. Steam rose through the gap under the noodle cup's lid. At the counter, the calculator went quiet.

"...Say you're right and those holes keep showing up. Then you'd keep needing people to stop them. But why me? There's tons of people more athletic than me. There's soldiers, there's cops."

"Because you're going to be the strongest."

"How would you know that."

"How did I know 12:14?"

Taeha shut his mouth. When Doyun peeled back the lid, the noodles were just right.

"But that's not the real reason, is it?"

"..."

"Being strong—you don't really care about that. You're already No. 1."

Taeha lowered his head. He wound his hoodie string around his finger, then unwound it.

"...Working your ass off and then it all just disappears. That sucks."

His voice was too quiet to reach the counter.

Doyun put down his chopsticks, and this time he didn't smile.

"...If it disappears. I could disappear too. I don't even have a company."

Doyun leafed through the back of the contract. There was a clause he'd written around four in the morning somewhere. Taeha found Article 15 first.

"'Should Party A's business cease, Party A shall bear all costs for Party B's transfer and shall immediately settle all unpaid earnings to date.'"

Taeha read it and looked at Doyun.

"You know it's usually written the other way around? Company goes under, player eats the loss."

"...Is it? I didn't know. I just figured if I go under, I should be the one paying for it."

Taeha looked at that clause for a long time. He didn't put his finger on it, and he didn't flip back a page.

He still didn't nod.

Doyun decided not to push it any further. In ten years of casting trainees, he'd gotten a signature at the first meeting exactly twice, and neither of them had lasted three months.

Instead, he took out his notebook and opened to a line he hadn't used this morning.

"Taeha. One more thing. This isn't a bet."

"...What."

"Three weeks from now. April 30th. Around 4 p.m."

Doyun pointed out the window. Past the glass, you could see the intersection in front of the PC bang. The soup restaurant, the phone store, the crosswalk, the traffic light.

"Right there, in the middle of that intersection, one's going to open. Bigger than the bus stop one today. And whatever comes out of it breaks the first-floor window of this building."

Taeha's hand stopped.

"And right above that is here."

Taeha turned his head to look at the counter. Oh Malsun had her reading glasses on and was looking at her calculator. This time, she really was looking at her calculator. She didn't seem to have heard any of this.

"...Then just tell Grandma to close the shop. For that one day."

"Think she'd close?"

Taeha couldn't answer. Oh Malsun opened on Lunar New Year. Last summer, when the monsoon flooded the first floor, she kept the second floor open.

"And even if she closes for that one day, another one opens the week after. And the month after that. Not just here, all over Seoul. Running away doesn't make it stop."

Doyun closed the notebook.

"I'd like you to be the one standing in that intersection that day. Instead of Grandma."

Taeha looked out the window for a long time. The light at the intersection went green to red and back to green twice before he spoke.

"...Tell Grandma yourself."

"What?"

"That one's opening there in three weeks. If Grandma believes you, I'll do it."

Doyun looked at the counter. Oh Malsun happened to raise her head just then. Their eyes met over her reading glasses.

"Whatcha lookin' at, young man? Noodles cost extra."

Doyun pulled two thousand-won bills out of his wallet and stood up. When she'd seen the bus stop video earlier, all she'd said was "So it's real." Nothing about it being amazing, not once.

"For the ramen. And ma'am, when you're doing your books tonight—give me ten minutes."

Oh Malsun took the two bills and dropped them into the cash box.

"Ten minutes is money too, y'know."

☾