Chapter 5

Both Kidneys

At 7 p.m., Doyun sat at a window seat in the corner of the PC bang, switching two phones back and forth between his ears. One was the HR team at the entertainment agency where he was supposed to start work next Monday. The other was a bank's loan consultation line.

"Yes, Team Leader. It's Han Doyun. Yes, about my start date next week. ...No, I didn't get an offer somewhere else. No. I'm going to try starting a business. ...What kind? Management. Yes, same thing. Just a slightly different clientele."

"...No, it's not that I don't like your company. It's actually that your company's too good. If I go in, I don't think I'll come out for ten years. ...Yes, that's a compliment. Thank you. If we run into each other in the industry later, dinner's on me."

The second he hung up, the hold music on the other phone ended and a consultant's voice came on. Doyun swiveled halfway to put that ear to it.

"Yes, I'd like to check my personal loan limit, please. Occupation? ...I just became unemployed. Yes, just now. Three minutes ago."

While the consultant politely wrapped up the call, Doyun looked down at the intersection outside the window. In his past life, three years from now, this bank would launch a loan product just for Hunters and use a Zeus Hunter as its ad model. Right now, it was informing one unemployed man that his limit was zero won.

"Sure, I'll check again sometime. In about three years."

Malsun PC Bang was open twenty-four hours. But from 2 to 4 a.m., the owner caught some sleep on a cot behind the counter, so the regulars had an unwritten rule: no ordering ramyeon during those hours.

Doyun decided to break the rule. He did avoid the hours, though. 11 p.m., when the customers were down to three and Grandma was copying the day's sales into her ledger by hand.

"Ma'am."

"Ramyeon's self-serve."

"Not ramyeon. I want to talk investment."

Oh Malsun's pen stopped. She pushed her reading glasses down to the tip of her nose and looked at him. Much longer, much more carefully than when she'd first seen him that morning.

"Young man, you been in my shop all day."

"Yes."

"Took Taeha out at lunch, called a hole openin' at Sillim Station, spent all afternoon hunched over a contract, and in the evenin' you sat in the corner workin' two phones."

"You saw all that."

"My shop. I see everythin'."

She closed the ledger. Then she pulled a chair out from under the counter and pushed it toward him. Sit, it meant.

Doyun sat and opened his notebook. And he told her what he'd told Taeha that afternoon. April 30th, around 4 p.m., the intersection out front. The first-floor window. And the second floor right above it.

Oh Malsun heard him out to the end, then said exactly one thing.

"So Taeha said he'd sign if I believe it."

"...You heard?"

"Thought I was hard of hearin'? I can hear every customer cussin' in here."

She picked up the calculator from the counter. She didn't press any numbers, just rolled it around in her hand.

"Young man, you know how many years I been runnin' this place?"

"Thirty?"

"Twenty-eight. Before that it was an arcade, and before that a comic book café. Went bust twice in between. Once in the '97 crash, once when my husband co-signed a loan for somebody."

The calculator turned over once in her hand.

"Both times, somebody came in and said, 'Ma'am, this is a sure thing.' Both of 'em wore suits."

Doyun looked down at his tie. The tie he'd so carefully knotted this morning.

"So I don't believe a word you say."

"Okay."

"But that thing at Sillim Station today, I saw with my own eyes. That I believe."

She set the calculator down.

"Believin' and bettin' money ain't the same thing, young man. You askin' me to believe you, or askin' me to bet money?"

Doyun looked at her for a moment. More precise than any question an agency CEO had asked him in ten years.

"Bet money, please."

"How much."

"Thirty million won."

The fridge behind the counter hummed to life. One of the three customers set his mouse down with a clack. Her expression didn't change one bit.

"Say I give you the money. What're you gonna do with it?"

Doyun flipped to the next page of his notebook. Something he'd written down after finishing the contract last night, until four in the morning.

"I need an office. A place for people to gather. And gear. Right now everyone goes in bare. Not a single piece of protective equipment. And hospital checkups, transportation, insurance. There's no insurance product for it yet, so I'll have to set money aside myself."

"Thirty covers all that?"

"No. If I can last three months, I'll be lucky."

"And after three months."

"After three months, Taeha starts earning. Once the Hunter Management Corporation exists, there'll be government rewards for clearing Gates. And corporate sponsorships. I happen to know how much a drink company paid the first Hunter to go on TV."

"How much they pay?"

"120 million won for a one-year contract."

For the first time, her eyebrows moved.

"...When's that."

"This fall."

The one who'd gotten that 120 million won was another Zeus Hunter. Doyun didn't mention the name.

Oh Malsun didn't say anything for a long while. Then she pointed a finger at the ceiling.

"Second floor."

"Sorry?"

"Second floor of my buildin'. Was a pool hall, went bust last year, been empty since. I own the buildin'. You can use it, no rent."

Doyun opened his mouth, then closed it again. The office problem had been solved in three seconds.

"But."

She lowered her finger.

"I want it in shares."

"...What percent?"

"Thirty."

Doyun had no idea what a reasonable stake was. For ten years, stake talk at agencies had always happened between the CEOs, while the manager waited outside the room. Still, he knew thirty was a big number. Here sat a manager with no company name, no Hunters signed, promising to call something three weeks out.

"Twenty."

"Thirty."

"Ma'am, thirty's a little too... I need something left over for me too..."

"Young man, what've you got right now?"

"..."

"Fourteen pages of contract. One notebook. A necktie."

She folded down a finger for each one. She stopped at three.

"And a Taeha who ain't signed yet."

Doyun laughed. A laugh admitting he'd lost.

"...Twenty-five. But you let me run things my way."

"Why would I run a business? I just count the money."

She held out her hand. A thick hand with knobby knuckles. Doyun took it. Her grip was strong.

"Twenty-five. And one more thing."

"Yes."

Without letting go, she pulled him in. Her eyes came close over the reading glasses.

"You lose my money, I sell your kidney. Got it?"

"...Just one?"

"Both."

Taeha was in his corner seat. The game was on, but his character was standing still in the middle of town. His hand rested on the mouse and didn't move. He'd been listening to the whole conversation at the counter, start to finish.

Oh Malsun shouted from the counter.

"Taeha."

"...Yeah."

"I put in thirty million. What're you puttin' in?"

Taeha turned his chair. He looked at Grandma, then at Doyun. Then out the window at the intersection. 11:40 p.m., and the traffic light was changing from green to red all by itself over an empty crosswalk.

"...Grandma, you believe that? The intersection thing."

"Dunno. But the Sillim Station one was right."

"Then you'll close the shop that day?"

"Nope."

"Grandma."

"I just won't stand in front of the first-floor glass that day, then, will I? You'll stand there instead."

Taeha shut his mouth.

She said nothing more. She opened the ledger again and picked up her pen. Today's sales: 352,000 won. Beneath that she wrote one more line. Investment: 30,000,000 won. Next to it, she drew parentheses and wrote small: kidneys.

Taeha held out his hand to Doyun.

"Contract."

Doyun opened the document envelope. Fourteen pages, with the eight typos he'd fixed that afternoon still showing in pen. Taeha flipped to the last page and looked down at the signature line for a long time.

"Hey, mister."

"Yeah."

"Article 5. Eight hours a day."

"Yeah."

"Does gaming count toward the eight hours or not?"

Doyun thought about it for a second.

"It doesn't. But the six hours of sleep does."

Taeha agonized over that for a very long time. Longer than when he'd waited for 12:14 outside Sillim Station.

Then he wrote his name on the signature line. Kang Taeha. His handwriting was neater than expected.

Doyun took the contract and checked the signature. In his past life, that name had been written next to another company's. This time it was next to a company that didn't even have a name yet.

"Taeha, let me give you tomorrow's schedule."

"...Already?"

"9 a.m. We're going to get you awakened."

Taeha froze. At the counter, for the first time, Oh Malsun laughed out loud.

"...What time?"

☾