Surviving Restructuring

”Mr. Eun-Ho, you can start next week, right?”

”Yes! I’m available even as soon as tomorrow!”

”Haha, I like your energy.”

One thing Eun-Ho had learned as an adult was that signing a contract didn’t mean standing on equal footing.

”Um, if I may ask, when do we talk about salary negotiations?”

”What? You didn’t know? We don’t negotiate. It’s all pre-set.”

”Ah... I see.”

The ideal negotiation, where one stated their terms, listened to the other side, and came to a mutual agreement, was just a fantasy. He’d never experienced a proper negotiation his whole life.

I’ve always just gone with the flow.

Therefore, instead, he buried himself in the fine prints that no one else bothered to read, such as the company policies, labor laws, employment contracts, and internal regulations.

That was all he could do as someone who didn’t even belong at the negotiation table.

[Do you agree to the terms?]

“No, I will not be agreeing to the terms.”

[You cannot participate in the trial without agreeing to the terms.]

“But I’m planning on participating in the trial.”

Besides, the penalty for non-consent wasn’t deletion, so that alone gave him courage to be somewhat defiant.

”Why are you making this complicated? It’s just a bonus game. Just do what it says!”

”Mr. Eun-Ho, are you crazy?!”

The foul-mouthed guy and Ye-Ji butted in, clearly sensing that something was off.

”Hyungnim!”

”You’re okay, right?”

Jae-Hyuk and Ji-Eun looked at him with unwavering trust and a flicker of concern.

A brief silence followed.

[That is not possible.]

The answer was just as he’d expected. That was fine. He hadn’t asked the question expecting this system to answer anyway.

Instead, he looked up at the floating Eye above. He’d gotten used to it, perhaps because he’d been staring directly at it for a while.

Still, as he locked eyes with the massive black pupil in the center of the hovering white sphere, something felt off.

That creeping sense of shame, like one’s clothes being peeled off layer by layer. That discomfort, like someone peering through one’s skin, down to their very bones. That fear of having to confront, persuade, and overcome an unknown entity.

”Let me talk to the Administrator directly,” Eun-Ho said.

More than anything, his desire to live like a human being came first. Eun-Ho didn’t wish to simply finish the race that had started on a tilted playing field. He wanted to win.

Then, after a short pause, a reluctant voice rang out. “Why? What do you want?”

A bratty, high-pitched tone that was also distinctly feminine. It was that girl again.

Huh?

Eun-Ho was caught off guard. After all, the previous system messages implied that the administrator had changed.

[By the acting Administrator’s authority, settings have changed!]

[Stone Golem update patch is underway!]

I guess the acting Administrator really was just a temp. Well, good. That makes things easier.

At least with her, he could guess how things would go. She’d been quite consistent from the start.

“Smart move. Who did it?”

“Has anyone here achieved something global? You know, creating an incredible piece of art or something like that.”

“Thought so. Well, that saves time. Let’s just sweep through... No, let’s speed this up.”

A pure results-driven type, caring solely about what piqued her interest. She wouldn’t care one bit if one didn’t make the cut.

“Technically, I’m supposed to match them to each person’s traits, but meh. Random distribution is easier.”

The kind who prioritized her mood over company policy, yet wasn’t above following the rules when convenient.

”For this trial, I’ve got an idea that could generate extra revenue. Are you interested?” Eun-Ho said.

With people like her, he knew he shouldn’t flatter, and instead make an offer.

“... What kind of idea is it?” Harona asked.

He skipped the fluff and got straight to the point. ”I’ve gone through the terms and conditions, and from what I’ve seen, the process is still the same. Observers just watch me act within my own memories, then react to it. That’s it. So, I was thinking... What if, instead of just watching, they could experience it?”

“E-experience it?”

”Exactly! It’s not just observing, but full immersion. They step inside me and live part of my life for themselves.”

The Administrator let out a sharp gasp. Understandable, as no ordinary Earthling should even know something like that existed.

“... Therefore, to promote the paid experience service, securing high-quality content is of the utmost importance. However, as previously stated, South Korea’s education system is highly standardized, and young people tend to remain dependent on their parents and institutions for far longer than average. Thus, it will likely be difficult to acquire differentiated content—memories that others would want to experience...”

That line was taken straight from a confidential report Eun-Ho had stolen from the Ghosts.

Experience-based content is the company’s primary revenue stream.

They took the memories of people like Eun-Ho and packaged them into entertainment for beings up there. Moreover, there were levels to how they consumed it.

First, there was the standard viewing mode, Observation. Next came the more immersive version, Experience, where the user became the person in the memory for a period of time.

So basically, it’s kind of temporary possession, I guess.

It was hard to say what was more shocking: the level of tech required to create entire virtual worlds out of people’s memories, or the fact that beings from another world consumed those memories as casual fun.

Perhaps, the most surprising part was how Eun-Ho had turned even surreal nonsense into negotiation material.

“That’s suspicious. How do you know about the Experience feature?” Harona asked.

”Oh, is that already a thing? I thought I came up with it myself,” Eun-Ho replied.

“You’re saying you just invented it? With that genius brain of yours?”

”Yeah. I figured letting people live the memory would be more appealing than just watching it.”

“Whatever... Fine. Let’s say you’ve got a point. But where’s the extra revenue coming from?”

”We charge for it. You know, a participation fee.”

He was pitching it as a money-making scheme.

“Ha... Do you even know what you’re saying right now?”

”Of course. And don’t worry, I’m not asking to change the current deal. The fifty percent commission stays.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!”

He stayed quiet, acting like he didn’t see the issue.

“Why would anyone pay to experience the memories of a Prospective Candidate who hasn’t even been selected yet. Ugh, never mind,” the administrator muttered to herself, then let out a sharp sigh. She’d probably run the numbers in her head. “... Though yeah... There are a few out there who’d jump at the chance to experience your memory.”

Of course she’d figured that out. I’ve already done my own market research.

The flood of observers after the battle with the Golem said it all.

[Night-Shift Fairy from the Bureau of Audit nods, saying Eun-Ho is worth the money.]

[The Newbie from the Bureau of Corporate Relations is impressed and says he is already creating buzz.]

Apparently, his Eye was pretty popular, not that he was sure how to feel about that. The fact that some of them had casually dropped a thousand points in donations said a lot. That showed that they had both interest and disposable income.

”So, fifty percent commission. Tempting, isn’t it, Administrator?” Eun-Ho tossed out the proposal disguised as a question.

Harona fell silent for a moment, then fired back with her own inquiry. “How much would the experience cost? How do you decide who gets in?”

”Well...”

The fact that she had questions meant that she was halfway convinced. In that case, it was time to play the final card.

”I was thinking of an auction.”

“An a-auction?!”

Harona’s voice cracked at the end, like she’d just heard the dumbest idea in the multiverse.

”That way, we can maximize the price. Assuming demand spikes, of course.”

“But what if no one bids? What then?”

”Simple. We set a low starting price. It’s actually better that way. Less of a risk of scaring people off compared to slapping on a high flat fee upfront.”

“Ugh...”

A beat longer than a blink, but shorter than a pause passed.

“You never stop thinking, do you?”

”I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“God, what kind of creature are you?”

”You’re looking at me, aren’t you? Can’t you tell?”

“Shut up for a minute. I need to think,” Harona replied with a snarky insult that somehow sounded like praise.

It was a good sign, but this time, he was ready to start the countdown.

”It’s five minutes to nine. I’ll give you two minutes to decide.”

***

“... Two minutes. Fine.”

Gritting her teeth, Harona nodded toward the screen—or more precisely, at the image of Eun-Ho, who smiled with a calm confidence.

One of her quick-witted subordinates picked up on the cue, giving a silent bow before swiftly operating a console.

Click.

[Voice connection has been terminated.]

Suddenly, the faint background noise lingering at the back of everyone’s mind went silent. Like dust scattering in the sunlight, the low hum simply vanished. When they realized the line was disconnected, Harona shot to her feet, knocking her chair back with the force.

“An auction?! Where did that come from?!”

Her calm demeanor finally shattered.

“He’s incredible. Most people would be horrified by the idea of others digging into and evaluating their past,” Seung replied.

“Right?! How does someone even come up with something like that in a situation like this?!”

Eun-Ho’s composure and unapologetic confidence made it seem like he knew exactly what they were planning. That could not just be quick thinking.

“Don’t you think that bastard somehow picked up a clairvoyance skill?”

“That’s very unlikely. Based on his actions so far, there hasn’t been any opportunity for that.”

“Ugh, but it still feels like we’re walking into a trap,” Harona muttered under her breath, pacing back and forth in front of her desk.

Seung, who had been watching nervously, finally said in a low, cautious tone, “You’re not actually considering going along with this nonsense, are you?”

Any normal administrator would have shut the idea down on the spot, but Harona was different.

“Hmm. I don’t know. Should I?”

“Of course not! He’s not even an official employee yet, and you’re already talking about selling premium content?!”

That was Harona, performance-first, results-driven to the core. She was the type to do anything to hit her targets.

“Ugh, shut it. Oh, did you finished this month’s reports yet?”

“Huh? Almost... Why do you ask—”

“What’s our achievement rate?”

Seung flinched and stiffened. “Well...”

“What’s our achievement rate? What’s the percentage!”

He knew exactly how much weight the word achievement carried in this place. His lips felt dry as sandpaper, and his tongue like lead.

“It’s sixty-one percent.”

Zap!

Harona snapped her head around, glaring at him like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes were sharp enough to slice.

Seung instinctively stammered. At this rate , they were headed straight for the worst quarterly report in company history.

“B-but, as you know, our department was given an unusually high quota this year, so—”

Harona crossed her arms and walked straight up to him. “And?”

Thump.

“So you’re saying that if the goals are high, it’s okay not to meet them?” She then looked up at her much taller subordinate. “Did I teach you to work like that?”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant—”

Even with a smile on her face, the pressure was unbearable.

Seung instinctively took a step back and blurted out, “I’ll put together a catch-up plan and report it to you!”

However, Harona shook her head. “Forget it. I just made a plan.”

“Huh?”

“At first, it sounded insane. But the more I think about it, the less crazy it seems.”

“Sorry?”

“Whether or not we include Experience, we’re still observing the trial. The basic structure stays the same. So technically, there’s no rule violation.”

“That’s a really convenient way of looking at it—”

“The only issue is the criteria for selecting participants.”

At this point, it was clear Harona wasn’t listening to anything her subordinate had to say.

After mulling it over for a second longer, she flicked her fingers. “Aha! I’ll just rewrite the terms and conditions!”

Like a rogue scientist rewriting survey questions to fit their agenda, what did a few lines of legalese matter, when she could just revise and sign them off herself?

“Done! That’s it!” Beaming, Harona sat back down.

Although it’d take her a while to think things over, once she made a decision, she moved fast. Seung sighed deeply and gestured toward the console.

[Voice connection has been reestablished.]

With that, the channel opened again.

“Do whatever you want,” Harona said.

”Understood.”

Eun-Ho’s face on the screen remained calm and unreadable.

“The auction proceeds will be processed like regular donations. Stick as closely to the existing rules as possible. Got it?”

”Of course,” Eun-Ho replied with a composed, almost smug expression, as if he’d predicted everything from the start.

Is he really a clairvoyant of some sort?

“But we don’t have time to build a separate system for this, so our side will handle the operations.”

”Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’ll manage it myself,” Eun-Ho replied.

“You’ll do it? Have you even done it before?”

”No. But I have a pretty good idea how it works.”

What a suspicious bastard,

“Well, fine. Do what you want. I’ll send over the revised terms, just give your—”

Harona was about to wrap things up, deciding she’d need to keep a closer eye on him when Eun-Ho interrupted, bold as ever. ”Ah, there’s one more condition.”

“Huh?! Throwing your weight around isn’t enough, and now you’re adding conditions?”

That should be her job, not his. She should be the one setting terms like no backtalk and no negotiations.

In spite of her utter disbelief, Eun-Ho nonchalantly said, ”While the Experience is active, I want observer access.”

“What? For what?!”

”How am I supposed to know what people are doing with my memories? I should at least be allowed to observe.”

Harona’s eyebrow twitched. “Ugh, not this again...”

It was a request she’d heard before. Every first-timer said the same thing, as if knowing what was happening in their memories would somehow change anything.

”Besides, it is a full hour, after all. I might as well stay entertained.”

It’s annoying but whatever.

“Fine. Do what you want.”

Technically speaking, the Eye access is available to all employees anyway.

“I’m sending over the revised agreement. Agree to it,” Harona said.

”Thank you.”

At last, the conversation reached its end.

Ding!

[Do you agree to the terms?]

Eun-Ho answered the same prompt differently, ”I agree.”

Fwoosh!

A radiant burst of light erupted around him, just like the dozens of notification windows from before.

The dense wall of terms and conditions on the translucent screen scattered into a whirlwind of glowing characters. Letters shimmered, spinning around Eun-Ho like stardust.

After a few moments, the luminous glyphs gathered, circling his head before sinking into him one by one.

[Your memory reconstruction is in progress.]

The process had begun. While Eun-Ho calmly stood by, Harona got to work, preparing for the auction with something that almost resembled enthusiasm.

[Select auction target.]

[Set auction start and end time.]

[Enter starting price and bidding increments.]

[Choose the payment method.]

...

She was really putting in the effort.

“Ugh! Why is there so much to fill out?!”

Then finally, Eun-Ho’s memory was officially on the table.

[Auction has begun!]

“L-Lady Harona! We’re already getting responses!”

“What?! But we haven’t even announced it yet!”

The anonymous forums were already heating up.

[Multiple observers have expressed interest!]

[The Crow from the Bureau of Management shouts in excitement, saying the content is worth the money.]

[The Newbie from the Bureau of Corporate Relations is starry-eyed, saying this is their first time seeing an auction.]

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

The office was suddenly filled with alert notifications.

“Lady Harona! The viewer count for Lee Eun-Ho’s channel is skyrocketing!”

“I told you! It’s all about differentiation! Everyone else just offers viewing, but this lets them go inside. Of course it’s going to blow up!”

Harona and Seung high-fived in celebration.

“Are we about to hit the jackpot?!”

“Totally! This could be huge. We might actually... Wait, huh?” Then, mid-cheer, Harona froze. “Wait, Seung...”

“Yes, Lady Harona?”

This whole time, she’d thought of Subject Eun-Ho as just a tool, a money-printing machine they could squeeze dry.

“Why do I feel like we’re the ones paving the road for that guy?”

Only now did it hit her that it was the other way around.