Chapter 11

I’m 23 years old this year. If you count by Korean age, I’m 22. Still pretty young.

At this age, it’s common to not have much money. Unless you’re born with a silver spoon, it’s just how it is. I didn’t have much time to work or earn money.

But I’ve already completed my military service. And these days, military pay has gone up quite a bit.

If you avoid eating frozen meals and tough it out, you can save up a little over 20 million won.

With that, I could have lived carefree for a few years.

So, I didn’t exactly live carefree for a few years, but in the end, I kind of did.

An unsuccessful game developer is pretty much the same as being unemployed.

Me: Why is my bank account so healthy?

Money: Absence makes the heart grow fonder!

I blinked, recalling the musical of a game director who became a god.

My bank account hit rock bottom.

Weird. Why did I run out of money already? I definitely planned for it to last at least two years.

Something felt off, so I went to my computer and searched.

It turns out, the anime about the girl band that dominated the season aired two years ago.

Meaning, it’s been two years since I was discharged.

Time flies.

When is Season 2 coming out?

Out of habit, I searched for related info, then gasped and turned off the computer.

That wasn’t important right now.

I crossed my arms and sank into thought.

This month was fine, but starting next month, things would get tough. Rent aside, I was short on food expenses.

It’s funny how you don’t need sleep, but you still gotta eat.

But didn’t my streams do pretty well?

From what I remember, my last stream had nearly 4,000 viewers.

Even if I don’t know much about streaming, I knew 4,000 viewers was a decent number.

Most of them were probably just passing by, so they weren’t my real viewers, but even if I could keep half of half, wouldn’t that cover living expenses?

First, I checked my recent streaming revenue.

Ads viewers see when they enter, donations, etc. All together, it came out to 130,000 won.

But 100,000 won of that was from Mos’s donation, so excluding that, I made about 30,000 won a day.

It was a small amount, but if I budgeted carefully, it was enough to cover living expenses, and the growth potential wasn’t bad.

If my viewer count grows, 20,000 won is nothing. Even 1 million won a day would be a joke.

Nice.

With my living expenses worry solved, I immediately started streaming.

[Streaming to Master]

About an hour later. I checked the viewer count.

[76 viewers]

Hmm.

What part-time jobs are popular these days?

*

Game development is my top priority.

I do stream, but that’s ultimately for game promotion.

That’s why I didn’t need to earn a lot of money from part-time jobs.

As long as I could cover my living expenses, I’d soon become the world’s greatest game developer and sit on a pile of money. Really.

“Hello.”

I decided to take a part-time job at a nearby movie theater.

These days, the gaming industry is blurring genres. [I thought it was a game, but it turned out to be a movie?!]

I thought, “Why not just make a movie then?” but anyway, to keep up with the trend, I went to the movie theater.

Part-time job and game development input. Two birds with one stone.

“Movies? I usually can’t watch them.”

“Isn’t working at a movie theater about watching movies with customers in the screening room?”

“Unless you’re working in the projection room. Usually, you’re just popping popcorn.”

What kind of input? Part-time jobs are for earning money.

Did you think taking someone else’s money would be easy?

Just sell tickets quietly.

I was assigned to the ticket booth.

These days, most people book online, so there wasn’t much to do.

But customers who came to the ticket booth had their reasons, and in those cases, I struggled with discount coupons or civil servant IDs that I didn’t fully understand yet.

Break time. I grabbed a coffee and handed it to a guy.

He was the senior who helped me whenever I stumbled.

“Thank you.”

Kim In-ho took the coffee with both hands and drank it.

I sipped my coffee and sat down in a chair.

The staff room fell into silence.

“……”

“……”

Kim In-ho’s gaze was intense. He kept glancing at me every five seconds.

I had an idea why.

He needed conversation.

I didn’t mind the silence lasting 100 years, but Kim In-ho seemed different.

Kim In-ho was a fresh 21-year-old who just got out of the military. Younger than me. Even if it’s just two years, as the older one, I should start the conversation.

“What’s your hobby?”

“Huh?”

“I asked what your hobby is.”

Small talk, Level 1. Asking about hobbies made Kim In-ho look at me with a blank expression.

Was this not it?

I asked to confirm.

“Didn’t you want to talk?”

“Ta…lk?”

“You kept giving me side glances, so I thought so. Sorry.”

“Ah. Right. Yes. I really wanted to talk!”

Kim In-ho answered almost desperately.

Who’s gonna take you away? Why so surprised?

Calming his startled heart, Kim In-ho spoke in a small voice.

“My hobby is… gaming.”

I narrowed my eyes and scanned Kim In-ho.

With the strictness of a mother-in-law inspecting a potential daughter-in-law.

You like gaming, huh.

What kind of games do you like to say that?

Don’t tell me <League of Legends>… No. <Eternal World>?

“What game do you like the most?”

“Uh….”

Kim In-ho hesitated.

He hesitated.

A conclusion was reached.

So, you’re one of those guys who calls themselves a gamer without even having a Steam account?

Go drink some soju and play LoL at a PC bang. No, wait. Play *Eternal World* instead.

“Um…”

Kim In-ho opened and closed his mouth. Feeling sorry for him, I spoke up.

“You don’t have to say it if it’s hard.”

“…I like *The Night of Magic* the most.”

Did he feel pressured by my tone? Kim In-ho tightly shut his eyes and finally spoke.

…*The Night of Magic*?

“You mean Nasu Kinoko’s *The Night of Magic*?”

“You know it?”

“Of course I do. I like it too.”

Looking at him again, Kim In-ho seemed like a genuinely good person.

“You really know it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Kim In-ho, who had been asked to confirm multiple times, muttered as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Why?”

I didn’t know what he meant by “why,” but soon Kim In-ho snapped out of it and excitedly continued.

“Besides that, I also like *Steins;Gate* and *When the Seagull Cries*.”

“You must really like visual novels.”

“Yeah, if I had to pick the best, it’d definitely be those.”

Kim In-ho’s face and voice brightened up. It was like he had reunited with a long-lost sister after ten years.

“When I was younger, I didn’t have money or the games weren’t officially released, so I ended up playing pirated versions. I felt so guilty that when *Fate/Grand Order* came out, I spent a ton of money on it as a way to atone. I probably spent hundreds on a game I didn’t even play.”

“I get it.”

By the way, I’ve already pre-ordered all future Type-Moon works for free and still have change left.

“I’ve played a lot of other games too, but *The Night of Magic* is the one that stuck with me the most.”

“Everyone has a game like that.”

“That’s why I wanted to make visual novels too…”

“So, your dream is to be a game developer?”

“…Yeah.”

I didn’t expect to find a comrade here.

“Wait, are you working part-time at the movie theater just for research?”

“No, not really. How am I supposed to watch movies while working?”

Fair enough.

I laughed and asked Kim In-ho something I was curious about.

“How many games have you finished?”

“…None yet. But the framework is almost done. I just need to outsource the art and music.”

He was further along than I thought.

Indie game development is lonely. Creating something on your own is always tough, but games are on another level. There’s just so much manual labor involved.

In that kind of situation, meeting a fellow developer is pretty exciting.

That’s why I decided to come clean.

“I make games too.”

“What? Yoorim, you too?”

“Yeah.”

Wait, when did I tell you to call me “Yoorim”? Whatever, I guess it’s fine.

I puffed out my chest and bragged.

“I’ve made a whopping 3… no, 2 games.”

“Two games?”

“*Fantasy Life* and *Excel Busters*.”

Kim In-ho fell silent.

Well, of course, he wouldn’t know.

“Both had low sales, so it’s understandable if you haven’t heard of them.”

“I’ll definitely try them when I get home.”

You better keep that promise. If the download numbers don’t budge, I’m gonna cry.

Kim In-ho let out an excited breath and finished his coffee.

He seemed to be in a good mood after our satisfying conversation.

By the way.

I stared at Kim In-ho. A young man whose dream is to be a game developer, works part-time at a movie theater, and loves *The Night of Magic* the most.

He didn’t stand out too much, but he had enough character to potentially be useful someday.

I figured I should mention it.

“Kim In-ho.”

“Just call me comfortably, Yoorim.”

“In-ho.”

“Is that comfortable for you?”

“Can I use you as inspiration for my game later? Your character isn’t bad.”

“…Me?”

Since I was serious, I nodded.

Seeing that, Kim In-ho firmly replied.

“Sure.”

“Customer satisfaction is high. Even some tax accountant gave it a 5. In-ho, don’t you want anything? We’re both developers. We should help each other out.”

“What I want?”

At my words, Kim In-ho’s eyes lit up. This guy. What kind of huge favor is he about to ask?

After a moment, Kim In-ho took a deep breath and spoke.

“Can I use you as inspiration too? For design or something.”

“No, you can’t.”

“…I can’t?”

“I’m already using myself. Oh, but you can change the hair and eye colors. In visual novels, that’s enough to make a different character, right?”

“That works.”

Kim In-ho stood there with his mouth open. I got up and said,

“Let me know when your game comes out, okay?”

Today’s harvest.

A decent inspiration buddy.

Secured.