Chapter 1: Effort Betrayed  

Anyone can succeed if they work hard.  

Effort never betrays.  

Believing firmly in these words, I poured in effort, more effort, and noooo effort.  

As a result, at the age of 20, I succeeded in listing my startup, Spectrum, on the KOSDAQ.  

Achieving something no one else could.  

That was the source of my pride.  

Yes.  

Up to this point, it was a successful life.  

“What did you just say?”  

That is, until my friend and business partner, Yoo Jinsang, betrayed me.  

He spoke calmly while wiping his glasses.  

As if he were casually suggesting we grab a coffee.  

“I’m thinking of bringing in a professional CEO. I’ve already discussed it with the board, and we’ve interviewed the candidates.”  

In our business, roles were clearly divided.  

Sales and management were my domain; technological development was Jinsang’s.  

But bringing in a CEO meant, in essence, taking my place.  

“It’s October now. April Fool’s was ages ago, so what’s with this kind of joke?”  

“Does it sound like a joke?”  

Jinsang is a guy with no wit, only seriousness.  

He wouldn’t suddenly pick up the ability to make such a tasteless joke.  

Suppressing the emotions rising within me, I asked as calmly as possible.  

As rationally as I could.  

“Why?”  

“Our company is no longer a startup. We’re about to enter the ranks of mid-sized enterprises, and if this growth continues, becoming a large corporation is all but certain.”  

“I know.”  

“We no longer need rough-and-tumble management. We need a systematic management system.”  

It’s logical.  

If you only consider the company’s growth, it’s not a wrong choice.  

The problem is that there’s no place for me in that plan.  

“If it’s you, Jisung, you’d understand, right? Our goal when we started this company was…”  

“To build a successful company. One that rises from the bottom to the ranks of a major corporation.”  

At twenty.  

It was a dream we, as naive youngsters, naturally came to share as friends.  

I thought we were looking in the same direction.  

But I realized, ten years later, that our dreams diverged.  

“You know, to grow our company into a major corporation, we need purely rational and cold judgment.”  

“Like Steve Jobs or Elon Musk, right?”  

“Exactly.”  

It was something I often said.  

That their cold judgment was necessary for a company’s growth.  

That emotions were a byproduct that hindered smooth operations.  

But I never imagined that cold judgment would lead to this outcome.  

Jinsang placed an envelope in front of me.  

“Severance pay.”  

“I didn’t say I was leaving.”  

“Useless parts should leave on their own. You know who said that, don’t you?”  

Damn it.  

That was my line, too.  

Experiencing it myself, I’m at a loss for words.  

The faces of employees I’d let go flashed briefly in my mind and vanished.  

“It’s enough to ensure our friendship doesn’t crack.”  

“You don’t think our friendship was already broken the moment you planned to fire me and acted on it?”  

“Business is business, personal is personal.”  

“…That’s my line, too.”  

Let’s admit it.  

I must be a psychopath.  

No, even that’s fake.  

The real psychopath is the guy who can ruthlessly cut off a friend of ten years.  

I pushed the severance envelope away.  

“I don’t need it. You think I’d take money thrown at me like I’m some beggar?”  

The real psychopath, who used to be my friend, looked at me indifferently.  

His expression seemed to say he couldn’t understand.  

“Is it because of pride?”  

“Yes.”  

“I can’t understand. You’d take a loss because of unnecessary emotions?”  

“Yes.”  

“If you’re planning to make a fuss without taking the money, you’d better give up. It’s clear who’d lose in a legal battle or public opinion war, isn’t it?”  

His attitude was closer to dealing with a potential enemy.  

Yes.  

I’ve already been excluded from his “us.”  

As I stayed silent, he pushed the envelope toward me again and stood up.  

“I don’t know if it helps in this situation, but if it’s you, you’ll succeed with that money, no matter what you do. I guarantee it, as a friend.”  

“Thanks for the damn kind words.”  

“I’ll head out first. There’s a conference.”  

That conference.  

I was the one who arranged it.  

It was meant to give advice to new startups.  

To elevate our company’s value and improve its brand image.  

No.  

Not our company anymore.  

His company.  

*** 

Staying there any longer would be a waste of time, so I returned to my office.  

I left that damn severance pay behind.  

Because of that stupid pride that doesn’t even feed me.  

It’s a choice the old me would never have made.  

“This is damn fast, isn’t it?”  

My office belongings were neatly packed into a single box.  

Even my secretary had already been reassigned.  

Yoo Jinsang had completely erased my traces from this company.  

“Ha, really…”  

Did it have to come to this?  

Really, this far?  

As I stood there, staring blankly at the small box of my belongings, the door opened.  

“President Jisung! You’re here.”  

“Oh, Yuha.”  

“Is it true you’re quitting?”  

Jeong Yuha, the team leader of the strategic planning team.  

One of the few competent talents in this company, Yuha was someone I often pushed hard because she was my direct subordinate.  

Her eyes, already large, widened further as she asked again.  

Rumors are scary.  

I just found out I’m being let go, and it’s already spread throughout the company?  

“As you can see, I’m clearing out my desk.”  

“No way…”  

Jeong Yuha was one of the rare talents in this company.  

No matter how rough or psychopathic I acted, she followed steadfastly.  

That’s how she rose to the youngest team leader, her skills undeniable.  

“Why on earth…”  

“You know the rule. If you’re not needed, you’re out. That’s it.”  

“But still! You’re the president!”  

“Isn’t the president part of the company?”  

“That’s…”  

She seemed to want to argue, but no logical response came.  

Then, furrowing her brow in frustration, she spoke irritably.  

“…You’re awfully calm about this. So like you.”  

“Is that a compliment?”  

“Like a psychopath.”  

“No filter with your boss, huh?”  

“Well, you’re not my boss anymore.”  

“This industry’s small. Want to be known as the rude employee who badmouths her boss?”  

“Are you going to keep working in this industry?”  

Her question didn’t get an immediate answer.  

Silence lingered for a moment, and then Jeong Yuha handed me a drink.  

It was from the free vending machine installed for employee welfare.  

“A consolation gift for your resignation. I’d love to have a team dinner, but I’m swamped with the work you assigned.”  

“A dinner? You can handle everything, right?”  

“Of course. I learned from the best when it comes to work.”  

Her attitude made me chuckle.  

Even in this cutthroat company, her bright demeanor made people like her.  

“President, one last question. Are you really okay?”  

“I’m fine. That’s just how life is.”  

Yes, I’m fine.  

I’m fine.  

No, I’m not fine.  

“That psychopathic bastard.”  

I picked up the soju bottle to refill my empty glass.  

But the bottle was already empty.  

It wasn’t the only thing that had run dry.  

***

The pile of soju bottles I’d bought was already scattered, defeated.  

I must’ve drunk at least a dozen on my own.  

“Should’ve bought vodka instead.”  

Clinging to the fading buzz, I glanced at my phone.  

An article was displayed.  

[Spectrum Growing at a Fearsome Pace, A Leap Forward with CEO Replacement?]  

Maybe because it’s a buzzworthy new IT company, or perhaps for brand image.  

The news was plastered on the portal’s main page.  

“Ha.”  

It’s not my company anymore, so it just left a bitter taste in my mouth.  

What made me even more bitter than the article were the phone notifications buzzing furiously.  

Some from business partners, some from reporters, some from the few acquaintances I had.  

The nuances varied, but the content was the same.  

Is the article true?  

Nothing makes better drinking fodder than the reactions of people who’ve stumbled upon juicy gossip.  

Thanks to their thinly veiled “confirmation shots,” the intense emotions I’d barely suppressed with alcohol began to boil over again.  

“Ha…”  

The alcohol made my head throb, but a sharper sensation shook my entire body.  

Betrayal, emptiness.  

And selfish anger.  

I held it in at the office, but the moment I got home, my emotions surged.  

“How could he stab me in the back like this?”  

For business expansion, for investments.  

All the shares he’d been quietly collecting were for this.  

I was supposed to be rational and cold.  

I was the one who ruthlessly fired those who were no longer useful.  

But when I became the target, I couldn’t stay cold.  

“How do I pay him back?”  

Right now, there’s no way to put a dent in Yoo Jinsang’s career.  

I’m just an individual, and he’s the head of a company.  

As he said, if we clashed, I’d be the one shattered.  

Still, should I try?  

“No, that won’t do.”  

A few scratches wouldn’t be enough.  

That wouldn’t even begin to repay the anger I’m feeling.  

“How?”  

I have 40 million won in savings and 50 million in severance pay.  

With that money, bringing down the head of a thriving company is near impossible.  

It’d be more likely to crack a rock with an egg.  

If I’d known, I should’ve swallowed my pride and taken that “friendship-preserving” money.  

Come to think of it, that envelope felt a bit thin.  

Was it a check?  

Or maybe just pocket change to match his shallow friendship.  

“Isn’t there something, anything?”  

The late-onset drunkenness blurred my vision, but the more it did, the clearer my inner anger became.  

How could I tame this emotion?  

Yes.  

An emotional, impulsive conclusion.  

Revenge.  

That’s where my focus settled.  

All my obsession was fixed on it.  

Ding.  

“…What’s that?”  

A message came through on the phone I’d tossed into the corner.  

It wouldn’t be odd if it was just a message.  

But I’d turned off my phone and thrown it aside.  

I didn’t want to see more of the same old messages.  

So that phone shouldn’t be receiving messages.  

Ding.  

Another ringing alarm.  

It was impossible.  

I picked up the phone, dazed, as if I’d seen a ghost.  

As I stared at it, another message arrived.  

“…What is this?”  

It was a spam message.  

An utterly absurd one.  

[For just 100,000 won, you too can become the master of the world! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Don’t miss it!]  

If you’re going to send spam, at least put some effort into it.  

Even a square meter of land in the Gangwon mountains would cost more than 100,000 won—who’d believe this?  

And “the world”? Not even land?  

Then another message arrived.  

[This opportunity won’t come twice. Are you really going to let it pass?]  

Ignore it.  

Just ignore it.  

What idiot would fall for such spam?  

It’s illogical and irrational behavior.  

The moment I thought that, my grip on the phone tightened.  

Logic… Right. Acting logically got me into this mess, and here I am, still looking for logic.  

What did logic and reason get me?  

Fired.  

A grand, backstabbing firing.  

Logic and reason don’t always benefit me.  

Fine, let’s take a swing at it.  

“100,000 won? I’ll consider it money thrown in the dirt.”  

It’s the cost of skipping chicken five times.  

I pressed the “Yes” button on the message, and a flurry of messages followed.  

-Congratulations! You have become the master of the Tinyfolk Dimension!  

-The Tinyfolk recognize their new dimensional master.  

-The Golden Age begins!  

What is this nonsense?  

I turned off the dizzying messages accompanied by fanfare and collapsed on the floor.  

Dimension master or whatever, how do I screw over Yoo Jinsang…  

With that thought, I closed my eyes.  

[Synchronizing with the Tinyfolk Dimension.]  

“Ugh, my back. My neck.”  

***

After drinking heavily and passing out, my whole body feels like it’s breaking apart.  

Add a hangover, and neither my stomach nor my head is functioning properly.  

“Water, water first… Huh?”  

As I headed to the fridge to soothe my stomach, a blue message window appeared before my eyes.  

“What’s this?”  

[The Tinyfolk await your instructions.]  

Hologram? AR tech has advanced, but not to this level.  

I waved my hand, but it passed right through the message.  

As I stared blankly at it, a new message appeared.  

[Would you like to activate the Dimension Management System?]