Chapter 50: The Boss Experience Begins

I decided to hire a single editor.

Jeong Sangheon. A FanTube operator with remarkable skills.

Not just editing skills, though those were excellent too. On MeTube, editing ability ranks second. No, third.

What impressed me about Jeong Sangheon was his sense of humor.

His ability to identify the fun moments from live broadcasts and distill them into edited highlights was, I daresay, top-tier in the industry.

On top of that, he was fast.

Uploading a video just three hours after a broadcast? It made me wonder if he had cheat-like abilities.

A talent like this needed to be kept close and utilized for life.

I’d have to raise his base salary and offer generous incentives.

If there was a downside, it was his lack of familiarity with subculture themes, which he tended to avoid. But with his talent, a little guidance should suffice for him to catch on.

Not that it mattered much if he didn’t. I already had a contingency plan in place.

At 9 a.m., a full three hours before the appointment, I arrived early and stepped into a nearby movie theater.

Since I was out, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and watch a movie.

The movie I picked was based on a popular novel.

It was a space opera where the protagonist, trapped inside a female android, embarks on a galactic adventure.

About two hours later, I stood up and gave a standing ovation.

This was the epitome of a space opera.

The original novel had been exceptional, and the movie adaptation did it justice.

It was a satisfying experience.

As a treat, I headed to the snack counter and ordered a hot dog stuffed with handcrafted ham.

“Mmm.”

Savoring the delicious hot dog, I made my way to the café where I’d arranged to meet.

“Welcome!”

“For drinks, I’ll have hot chocolate. For desserts, I’ll take a cheesecake croffle, caramel pudding, whipped cream waffle, blueberry muffin, and a strawberry croffle.”

“Are you expecting company?”

“For now, I’m alone.”

“…Order confirmed.”

Taking a seat by the window, I pulled out the contract to review it.

This was a contract I’d drafted after consulting with a lawyer.

Now, all that remained was for my new employee to arrive.

Perfect.

Pleased with how things were going, I smiled contentedly.

“Excuse me.”

A voice interrupted my thoughts.

Looking up, I saw a tall man in a suit standing before me.

“If you have a moment, could we have a conversation?”

“Sure.”

At my response, the man bowed slightly and took the seat across from me.

“I know approaching you like this might seem suspicious. I assure you, this isn’t some kind of pickup attempt. I’m actually―”

“You’re from an entertainment agency, aren’t you?”

From his attire and tone, I could make an educated guess.

“…Yes, that’s correct.”

The man handed me his business card.

As I took and examined it, my suspicion was confirmed.

[Prime Entertainment]

[Management Team 1 – Manager]

[Na Suhan]

Prime Entertainment.

Though it had lost its top spot to another agency, it was still a powerhouse in the industry, proof that the old guard could hold its ground.

Seeing my calm reaction, Na Suhan asked, his tone tinged with regret, “Do you happen to already be signed with another agency?”

“That’s right.”

One good turn deserves another, after all.

With a racing heart, I pulled out my own business card.

I hadn’t expected to show it to anyone so soon.

[Yurim Company]

[Han Yurim – CEO]

Na Suhan froze for a moment, staring at the card.

“…I apologize. My knowledge is limited. What kind of company is this?”

“We specialize in game development and video production.”

I had set it up on Moss’s recommendation.

Given my current income, forming a corporation had numerous advantages.

Hearing my explanation, Na Suhan exhaled in apparent relief before continuing.

“A one-person company, I assume?”

“I started it recently.”

“It’s a shame you’re already affiliated, but I’ll make my offer nonetheless. Would you be interested in conquering the entertainment industry with me?”

An entertainer.

They are people who strive to bring joy to others.

In some ways, their role wasn’t so different from that of a game developer. It wasn’t entirely unrelated to me.

“What about me caught your eye?”

“To be completely honest, it’s your appearance.”

“Hmm.”

I looked at Na Suhan with narrowed eyes.

The gaze was meant to say, Is that all?

Sensing this, he elaborated.

“If my offer makes you uncomfortable in any way, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“I place a lot of importance on sustainability.”

“Sustainability?”

“Looks? Sure, they’re critical in the entertainment industry. But they fade just as quickly as they shine.”

There was a time when entertainers were called talents.

The term originated from the Christian word talent, referring to gifts or abilities.

In essence, an entertainer is someone blessed with dazzling talents.

Approaching the entertainment world with mediocre talent could lead to disastrous consequences.

“With your looks alone, Han Yurim, you already have everything you need,” Na Suhan replied with conviction.

He was so resolute that his words felt sharp enough to cut. Swish. Ouch.

Curious about Na Suhan’s confidence, I asked, “If I were to become an entertainer, what would I do?”

“You could model, or even act.”

“But I’ve never taken acting lessons before.”

“You can start learning now.”

People who exude such baseless confidence usually lack substance, but somehow, I found Na Suhan believable.

Is this the power of a scout?

I wondered how many people he had successfully lured into the entertainment industry with this charm.

Just as I was marveling at Na Suhan inwardly, a voice interrupted us.

“Here’s your hot chocolate!”

“Wow.”

The drink I ordered had arrived.

“And here’s your cheesecake croffle, caramel pudding waffle, blueberry muffin, and strawberry croffle.”

Gosh, I might pass out from hearing that.

I took a sip of the hot chocolate that the server had placed on the table. It was delightfully sweet.

Setting the cup back down, I said, “Would it be alright if I take some time to think about your offer and get back to you?”

“Of course, take all the time you need.”

I didn’t outright reject Na Suhan’s proposal for no particular reason.

After all, you never know what might happen.

I wasn’t planning to become an entertainer, but if I ever needed help in the future, having this business card might come in handy.

What kind of help, you ask?

Hmm… maybe if I ever wanted to investigate the entertainment industry?

On second thought, probably not.

But gamers are the type to hoard items and only use them when facing the final boss. Please understand.

Na Suhan left soon after, leaving me alone with the mountain of desserts in front of me. I picked up a fork and took a bite.

“Excuse me…”

Someone else spoke to me.

Another scout?

It couldn’t be helped. With the aura of a super developer, attracting attention was inevitable.

But seriously, I wished they wouldn’t be so persistent.

“Are you… by any chance… Han Yurim?”

“Take a seat.”

It wasn’t a scout this time—it was the person I had been eagerly waiting for.

My very first employee.

Just from his tone, I could tell who he was.

Jung Sangheon sat down, wiping his sweaty palms repeatedly on his pants. He must’ve been nervous.

After hesitating for a while, he finally looked at me and asked, “…Um, why on earth…”

“Hold on a second.”

“Huh?”

I interrupted him immediately.

It might’ve been confusing, but it couldn’t be helped.

Calmly, I began to explain.

“Questions about why a VTuber avatar resembles its real-life counterpart, or why I don’t just turn on my webcam instead, have already been rehashed countless times. As my employee, you should avoid such overused remarks.”

“That’s not it… I was just…”

“Speak your mind.”

“I was wondering… why there’s so much food here.”

Can’t a person indulge in a bit of a feast?

“Why does it matter?”

“I thought maybe you were expecting more people to join…”

“It’s just me, and now you, Jung Sangheon. Two people total.”

An awkward silence followed.

This is strange. Aren’t you amazed that my VTuber avatar looks so much like me? Or baffled that I ordered so much food?

How can you not be surprised?

I handed Jung Sangheon a contract and a pen. This insolent individual deserved a lifetime punishment of producing videos.

“If you read through it, you’ll see the base salary is 4 million won.”

“Wasn’t it 3 million won?”

“I raised it because I liked your skills.”

“Thank you!”

We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already thanking me?

“Bonuses will be based on viewership metrics, paid quarterly.”

“Wow.”

“You’ll need to produce videos five days a week. You can make more if you’d like, but make sure to take care of your health.”

“Understood.”

“You’re also free to choose your days off—two days a month. They’re cumulative and paid, so feel free to use them.”

“I guess there are other editors on the team too, right? I’ll be collaborating with them?”

“Huh? You’re the only editor.”

At my words, Jung Sangheon looked as if he’d dropped his wireless earbuds down an elevator shaft.

“Just… me?”

“Yes.”

“Then the video posted on MeTube the other day… Oh, that must’ve been outsourced to a freelance editor, right?”

“I made that one.”

“What?”

I elaborated.

“On the days you don’t make videos, I’ll handle it. So feel free to take your paid leave.”

“But… won’t that be too much work for you?” Sangheon stammered. “It would make more sense to cut my salary a bit and hire a second editor—”

“I’m pretty fast. I made the last video in just one day.”

“You did that in a day?”

Editing is a breeze, thanks to my new unreleased game, The Android Who Loved Editing. It handles the grunt work for me.

And even if it didn’t, running a MeTube channel is just another part of game development. This much is manageable.

Sangheon asked in a hesitant voice, “In that case, wouldn’t it be better for you to handle all the editing? Your skills are exceptional.”

“If not now, when else will I get to be called ‘Boss’? So from now on, please address me as ‘Boss.’”

My trusty editing android lacks the ability to call me “Boss,” and even if it could, it wouldn’t feel the same.

Hiring someone was worth it just for this experience alone.

When else would I get to savor the role of being the boss? Waiting until I made a boss-themed game would be too late.

“Go ahead and sign the contract. I’ll treat you to a delicious lunch today.”

“And you’ll still have room for more food after this?”

I will.

If you’ve never tried it, don’t judge.