Chapter 377
It was impossible to visit all the booths—there were more than twenty.
This wasn’t a matter of time.
Seojun didn’t have to wait in line, after all.
He wouldn’t be entering through the capsules at the booths to play in virtual reality, and whenever he accepted an invitation, he always made sure to clear out enough time in his schedule.
How many booths could he possibly be unable to visit?
Time wasn’t the important factor.
‘If I accept too many advertisements, public opinion won’t be favorable.’
Even Seojun, who had created an image of himself as a monster born from capitalism and shamelessly forged ahead to profit from it, needed to show some restraint.
There was a limit he had to observe if he wanted things to go over smoothly.
‘How many should I accept per day?’
Looking at the other streamers who had received invitations, most of them advertised for around two booths a day.
Sometimes they participated in running the booth as guests, while other times they simply experienced the booth as if they were doing an actual promotional broadcast.
This had long since become a sort of culture for indie game companies.
The festival’s organizing committee also preferred to see the event revitalized in that way.
‘I think I could do more than two.’
Seojun wasn’t an expert on viewer sentiment.
But people with plenty of experience naturally developed a certain instinct for reading the room.
Of course, if that instinct could be properly cultivated through experience alone, streamers wouldn’t so often find themselves plummeting into the abyss.
Seojun’s experience, however, ran deeper than that.
And he wasn’t talking only about his experience as a streamer.
‘Four a day?’
That seemed about the limit before it started to look like a more special event.
If so…
“Hm…”
Why had the number increased to thirty while he was thinking?
There were now too many people to fit even in the waiting room.
All the staff members who had come here were watching him carefully.
They weren’t stepping forward recklessly, but they looked ready to do anything if an opportunity arose.
‘There were a few booths I was thinking of visiting.’
He had no idea what kind of content the others offered.
This had become troublesome in all sorts of ways.
What if he said he would walk around without accepting any advertisements, even at this point?
That would probably make him look better.
‘And now I have a justification.’
But then Seojun would be giving up the ten million won he would receive for each advertisement.
Even if he lived a life unconcerned with money, that meant refusing to miss out on greater value because of an obsession with money—not kicking away money that came rolling toward him.
‘Good grief. Five more joined while I was thinking.’
At this point, it was safe to say that more than half of the small booths had gathered.
‘The big game companies, who are slow to move, haven’t come. Is that only natural?’
In the suffocating silence, Seojun was the only one leisurely mulling things over.
He had told everyone who intended to come to come, and was waiting for them.
At last, the noise echoing through the corridor subsided somewhat.
In the end, this was a matter of finding the right balance.
Then he needed to make a decision.
“Hello. I assume everyone came here with the same thing in mind, am I right? If anyone came to suggest an activity other than inviting me to their booth, would you please raise your hand?”
No one did.
Perhaps they were all being cautious before the absolute superior, Seojun, because not a single sound escaped them.
Seojun nodded and called Team Leader Seon, with whom he had already spoken, on his phone.
Team Leader Seon was the one who had secured the waiting room, so contacting him was the fastest way to find a place that could accommodate everyone.
A message came from Team Leader Seon.
It gave the location of a multipurpose room that could hold thirty people, and said that he had already unlocked the door.
As expected, he was quick.
“Let’s move somewhere else for now.”
* * *
The employees of the game companies who had come to Seojun’s waiting room followed him up the stairs, tapping away busily on their phones.
[Boss, more than half of them are here. What do we do?]
[Go for it! Just go for it! Double it!]
[Really, double?]
[Yes!]
The main reason they were tapping on their phones was to negotiate the terms.
What if Seojun started an invitation auction with all of them gathered here?
They had never once heard of anything like that in all their years in the industry, but their opponent was Seojun.
The strongest mastermind villain in history, who had caused a commotion against the world’s greatest masters and won.
Wasn’t it just a game?
No.
Those who reached the pinnacle of a field were bound to stand head and shoulders above ordinary people in whatever they did.
[There’s no way he’d really hold an auction.]
[Either way, we’re definitely the super-underlings here, Boss. What about triple?]
[Go triple!]
Most of those who weren’t tapping on their phones were people with full authority.
For example, company presidents who had personally come to their booths.
Even among the presidents, however, there were some who continued sending messages to their employees.
[Wow. What are we really going to do?]
[If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. We’re already doing fine. We’re probably performing the best among the small booths, right?]
[But isn’t this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? Don’t you think? If another team gets him, they’ll take all the attention for themselves.]
[Yes.]
[Should we pour in all the money we have? I do have a gambler’s spirit, you know.]
[Yes.]
President Baek of the company that had been earning word-of-mouth recognition as one of the best among the small booths solely through the quality of its excellent roguelite game, which was currently on sale and being used as content, let out a sigh.
It wasn’t that his employees lacked the four things humans needed.
Small companies were supposed to have a family-like atmosphere, after all.
And if that family-like atmosphere wasn’t unilaterally imposed by one side, but instead meant that both sides could be casually indifferent and comfortable with one another, wasn’t that a decent company in its own way?
President Baek had created just such an atmosphere within his company.
Judging from their conversation alone, didn’t it feel like watching a teenage son greet his father after work and then retreat to his room?
Fortunately, that atmosphere had helped them produce a good game. The problem was publicity.
Its performance wasn’t satisfying.
They had failed to achieve the so-called big hit.
He had thought the game might shine at Tstar this time, but what if they missed out on Seojun?
If Seojun’s event hadn’t happened at all, they could have gradually spread word of the game.
‘Whew. How will this turn out?’
President Baek had once approached CEO Lee, the only indie game developer with a connection to Seojun after having worked with him.
When Baek had told him about the situation, Seojun had given him a simple answer.
‘You have to get him, no matter what.’
Get him by any means necessary.
‘Then should we go as high as fifty million won?’
It seemed possible if they gathered money from here and there on top of the twenty million won they had already budgeted for publicity.
The problem was how Seojun would choose the companies, and how many of them he would choose.
If he only worked with a few, how fierce would the competition become?
And what would the price be?
‘The first booth to hire him publicly told everyone that they paid ten million won. But the problem is that we can’t get him for the same price.’
The staff began taking their seats in the multipurpose room.
The room was laid out like an auditorium, and a fierce silent battle was taking place among the staff for the front seats.
President Baek was a large man, so he managed to sit in the third row, an acceptable position.
Seojun stepped forward.
At that moment, every staff member imagined Seojun squeezing an enormous amount of money out of them, having pushed the competition into a situation where they could neither retreat nor advance.
From the bizarre event on the first day onward, everything seemed like a trap carefully designed to drain money from the indie game companies right now.
“Ahem. Then I’ll get straight to the point. I want forty million won as the advertising fee.”
Groans poured out.
So he really intended to suck even the marrow from these tiny game companies.
And yet, the fact that some of them still thought it might be worth it—this truly was the return of the capitalist monster, the tyranny of a conglomerate.
In the end, someone would inevitably spend a fortune to join hands with that monster, while they would be left suffering the consequences.
That chain of thoughts made their groans even deeper.
President Baek, sitting in the third row, was literally thinking that it might be worth it when Seojun continued.
“Instead, I’ll advertise only one booth per day.”
Oh?
With every word Seojun added, the staff swung between heaven and hell.
“Of course, I’ll also visit other booths that aren’t advertising. I get bored, you see.”
Those who couldn’t afford the cost filled with hope.
Those who had been willing to pay the cost were disappointed, then—
“But naturally, I won’t turn on the broadcast when I do that.”
Their moods reversed.
“Ah. If I do advertise your booth, I’ll handle the content entirely as I see fit. I’ll promote it according to that content as well, so only agree if you’re confident you can change your content to suit me.”
He continued making unreasonable demands.
“But I’ll definitely promote you properly. I’ll announce it in advance. I won’t hide it like earlier. If I tell my viewers ahead of time what game I’m going to play, an enormous crowd will probably gather, right? They’ll want to try it first. And they’ll want to meet me.”
Even so, he smiled brightly and waved a carrot along with the stick.
“Now then, I’ll make the first offer.”
The worst streamer in the world, who had never offered them a choice to begin with.
The super-superior.
And the man who suited that role better than anyone.
“How about it? Are you interested?”
That man was Seojun.
“Not interested?”
Seojun began seeking out the staff members from the booths he had taken note of, one by one.
Then he asked them.
“……”
“Oh, you’re saying no?”
“I-I’ll do it.”
And President Baek prayed desperately to be chosen.
“Hello. Are you perhaps the one with the roguel—”
“We’ll do it!”
“Yes?”
“We’ll do it!”
* * *
The Great Escape.
After a donation alert rang out during Seojun’s broadcast, countless people witnessed a scene in which people in black suits suddenly rushed in droves from numerous booths down the corridor leading to the neighboring building.
The witnesses gave that scene the name “The Great Escape.”
It meant only that the movement of the people had been that frantic.
And then the results came in.
“Wow. He’s really just going to walk around the indie games?”
“Is the boss abandoning his own booth?”
“Hey, I heard a major booth might be coming to the boss’s booth.”
“That’s that. Hmm. Should we check out the ones advertising first?”
“Sounds good. But I thought the boss would do about ten advertisements.”
The general public reacted favorably.
The indie game companies that had failed to secure Seojun reacted favorably as well.
The momentum was maintained.
“One a day, huh…”
That was why Eve Faimo, the president of Movie Soft, one of the largest game companies at Tstar, fell into thought.
“Can we get him?”
Kim Yoonchan was Eve Faimo’s employee, an optimistic person and a fan who most enjoyed watching Travel while working.
“It’s possible! I’ll order them to clear the booth immediately!”
“That’s not what I mean! Our new game!”
“Ah.”
Movie Soft had set up a booth for *For Chivalry* this time.
Thanks to Seojun, *For Chivalry* had already risen a level in public awareness and was holding up well amid the wave of popularity for indie games sparked by Seojun, so it wasn’t a major concern.
Above all, Seojun’s free morning schedule was already completely booked.
They were preparing a different proposal.
One that would take place at Seojun’s booth.
“Damn it! We should’ve just gone all in instead of hesitating over whether to do it.”
“Exactly!”
They had intended to give Seojun the opportunity to try the game before anyone else anyway.
They had considered doing so at Tstar, but decided it wouldn’t be the best promotional opportunity.
Of course, now that they saw what had happened, it had been the perfect opportunity.
Still, it wasn’t too late.
Seojun’s booth had a degree of autonomy, and although there were restrictions on them as a major game company, they could negotiate flexibly.
*Dawn of the Assassins: World of Belief.*
An MMORPG focused not on raiding bosses, but on conflicts between the various factions.
“But, Boss…”
“What?”
“Seojun won’t accept our belated proposal unless he runs out of things to do with the existing content, will he?”
“Probably not.”
“But the situation doesn’t look very promising right now.”
“Why?”
“The person who just went to take the first test is apparently a former national table-tennis player.”
“What?”
“And there’s also a magician who won a world championship.”
“……”
“They say a master of balancing who performs around the world and a foreign boxer have come as well. Apparently, they all passed the first round with flying colors.”
“Hmm. A lot happened while everyone was making a fuss over the indie games.”
“Yes. Yesterday, it was simply the first day, so the masters hadn’t participated yet. But if they’re starting today…”
How many more people would come in the future?
And how successful would the booth become?
Kim Yoonchan pointed this out, and after thinking for a moment, Eve Faimo reached a conclusion.
“No, we’ll go ahead.”
“Why?”
“Because I think there won’t be anyone left trying again from tomorrow onward.”