Former Ranker's Newbie Life-Chapter 45

If Do-Jin’s life could be summed up in a single word, it would be a hamster wheel. Wake up, play the game, play the game some more, and then, keep playing the game. Of course, he took breaks to eat and did some home workouts for his health, but in the end, gaming was always his top priority. He squeezed in quick meals and bare-minimum workouts only so his body wouldn’t completely fall apart.

In the end, however, LOST was always the priority. Even sleep took a backseat. He relied on light sleep mode most of the time and only crashed when his body hit its absolute limit. But at least he had something to show for it.

After that satisfying revenge run, he had cleaned house, sold off anything he didn’t need, restocked on essentials, and reinforced his setup. His makeshift gear had been upgraded to a proper C-rank set, and his grimoire now held a solid collection of spells, ranging from Tier 1 to Tier 4. Even after all that investing, he still had a million won in his bank account and 3,000 Gold sitting pretty in his inventory.

That was how much he’d raked in by grinding non-stop since his regression, refusing to waste even a single second. He was doing well, thriving even.

“Then why the hell does it feel like something’s off...?”

Do-Jin popped another cube of chicken breast into his mouth, chewing slowly as he stared at the LOST community banner flashing across his screen. He had been at this for weeks. He had climbed smoothly to Level 54, his gear was upgraded, and his inventory was so neatly organized that it felt like he’d just deep-cleaned his entire existence.

Just two days ago, he had wrapped up his loot calculations, converted junk into gold and cash, and felt genuinely accomplished for the first time in ages. So why, now that he was finally logged out, showered, and eating a decent meal, was there this nagging sense that something wasn’t right?

His eyes drifted toward the front door. Wait... have I... ever actually stepped outside since I came back?

The answer was technically yes. He had opened the door to grab deliveries and take out the trash. But breathing in actual fresh air, or interacting with people had never happened. He’d promised himself when he got this second chance that he wouldn’t just grind his life away in LOST again. He was going to be more than just a VR-addicted recluse and live like a normal human being for once.

The plan was solid. I stuck to it perfectly.

The only problem was that everything he executed was inside a virtual world. His real-world concerns had been pushed so far back that he had completely forgotten about them. Realizing his mistake, Do-Jin looked around his room.

Half of his cramped one-room apartment was swallowed up by the VR capsule and energy packs stacked against the wall. His so-called “food supply” was just nutritionally optimized survival rations, the kind of bland, depressing food one would expect to see hoarded in an apocalypse bunker.

Hold on, actually, was that a bag of cat treats? Do-Jin squinted at the package. What does that say? High-protein chicken cubes... for cats?

He glanced down at the chicken cube he was chewing, then back at the package. It would seem that he’d been snacking on cat treats. Perhaps it was time to go outside.

“Hah... it really did taste awful.”

Still, it was practically salt-free and packed with protein, so it was probably good for his body. While human food might upset a cat’s stomach, there was no rule that said humans couldn’t eat something meant for cats. Probably.

“Either way, this isn’t it.”

Living off government-subsidized rent just because he was an orphan was one thing, but sitting in that shitty one-room apartment and chewing on cat treats wasn’t exactly the life of a badass regressor.

At least I’m not literally rotting in a ditch this time...

If “not actively decomposing” was the best his life had to offer, it wasn’t exactly a win. Do-Jin needed to pull back from the game a bit and fix his real-life situation. It wasn’t like he had to sit down and map out some grand strategy. He already had a plan. In fact, he had started setting things up for it but kept putting it off until he had completely forgotten about it. Now was the perfect time for that plan, since his name was worth more than ever.

Gotta strike while the iron’s hot.

Without wasting another second, Do-Jin booted up his computer. The first thing he did was check his video files. He had been recording all his major fights just in case. And sure enough, there were dozens of saved clips, neatly sorted and waiting to be used.

He picked out the Haberkan solo raid, trimmed the footage to just the battle highlights, and smirked. “Should be easy enough. I just need to make a channel, upload the video, and drop the link on Lotranet’s anonymous board.”

The first step to fixing his real life was starting a MeTube channel.

If I wanna live like a normal person, there’s a shit ton of things I need to do... and all of them sound like a massive pain in the ass.

Money could solve a lot of problems, sure, but he wasn’t at the point where he could just throw cash at everything and call it a day. If he wanted to move out of this shoebox apartment, he’d have to find a place, tour it, talk to landlords, sign a lease, pack his belongings, move in, and even file a change of address.

Do-Jin wanted to avoid every single one of those tedious tasks, and the solution was to farm clout on MeTube. With the way the LOST community had been frothing at the mouth over his fight with Haberkan, now was the time to drop a video. The moment it went viral, every guild, MCN, agency, and even talent management company would start foaming at the mouth to recruit him.

“When I sign that contract, I’m making them give me a manager. A personal assistant. A lackey to deal with all this tedious bullshit.”

Once he had someone else handling his real-life errands, everything else would fall into place. Snickering to himself, Do-Jin got ready to upload his first video. At that moment, his PC let out a soft ding as a message popped up in the bottom-right corner.

Theresa: Hey, Do-Jin! Got a sec? I need to ask you a favor.

LOST’s friend system was connected to his VR network, which was also linked to his other devices, like his computer.

He hadn’t talked to Theresa much since the mine dungeon. Every now and then, she’d send a casual “how are you” message, but even that had dropped off recently. Now she had a request? Do-Jin wasn’t the type to sit around guessing.

Do-Jin: What’s up?

Theresa: So... this might be a dumb question, but... that mage in the video. That’s you, right?

Ah. So that’s what this was about. It made sense. The whole LOST community had been losing its collective mind over his fight for the past week. Theresa had probably watched the video too.

Do-Jin: Did you forget what I look like already? 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Theresa: No, no! Of course not! I just had to check. I was so shocked when I saw it. I mean... what the heck?! How did you level up so fast?!

Do-Jin: It’s simple. That’s actually my twin brother.

Theresa: Huh?

Do-Jin: No, really. It’s true.

Theresa: Whoa, wait, for real?! Actually, now that you say that... it kinda makes sense. I mean, we barely just split up, and there’s no way you could’ve gained that many levels so fast...

“She’s actually buying this?” Do-Jin shook his head, trying not to laugh.

Do-Jin: But was that your big favor? Just checking if that was me?

Theresa: Oh, right! No, that’s not it. It’s actually about the video. Soso wanted to talk to you. You remember Soso, right? She was our party’s healer.

Do-Jin: Yeah, I remember. But why?

Unlike Theresa and the others, Soso hadn’t even bothered to send a friend request. She had already told them she wasn’t planning to play the game long-term, so what changed?

Theresa: Well...

Do-Jin leaned back in his chair, waiting for her answer. Now this was interesting.

***

Kim Hyang-Gi was the Chairwoman of Rael Group.

At the age of forty-nine, her entire life had been one long battlefield. In her early twenties, she clawed her way through a blood-soaked inheritance war against her own siblings. By her mid-thirties, she was locked in a brutal divorce, a fight so vicious they might as well have been trying to rip chunks of flesh off each other. Now, as the head of a mid-sized conglomerate, she was waging an all-out war for survival in the cutthroat world of business.

Anyone who saw her polished intellect and youthful appearance, young enough to pass for her thirties, would never have guessed she had spent decades in the trenches. She was always at the front lines, never once stepping back.

“How’s it going?” she asked in a smooth, casual voice.

It was just a simple request for an update, but to Ju Kang-Hee, it felt like having a loaded gun pressed against her temple.

I can’t tell her. No fucking way. I can’t say we haven’t locked in a single name. She’ll kill me. She’ll actually kill me.

To Kang-Hee, Kim Hyang-Gi wasn’t just her boss; she was practically a third parent to her. She’d covered her sick mother’s medical bills, funded every necessity Kang-Hee had ever needed growing up, and even paid for her MBA overseas. Because of her, Kang-Hee got to spend more years with her mother and even got an education she could have never dreamed of affording.

Hyang-Gi was her benefactor, so when she joined Rael Group, she had made a promise to herself that she would pay that debt back no matter what. But right now, she just wanted to fucking run. Her ever-so-kind Auntie Hyang-Gi was an angel, but Chairwoman Kim Hyang-Gi was an actual demon.

Still, she had to report. When it came to work, hesitation wasn’t tolerated. Hyang-Gi might have found Kang-Hee’s bumbling endearing in private, but “Chairwoman Kim” had no patience for it.

“I, uh...”

“Hey, Kang-Hee.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You’ve been working here for about a year now, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Hyang-Gi sighed, adjusting her glasses. “I hate wasting my time. I could’ve had you start from the bottom and work your way up, sure. But that’s only for people who need to do that. You’re not one of them. That’s why I decided to give you a whole project to manage in just a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you.” She leaned back, watching Kang-Hee closely. “I’m just wondering if I made a mistake.”

“Pardon?”

“Did I overestimate you? Maybe I shouldn’t have expected so much from you. Maybe I put too much pressure on you.”

That stung. Hyang-Gi wasn’t raising her voice or using any derogatory language. She was simply disappointed, and that was so much worse.

“This project is difficult. Rael Group’s been a big name in fashion, cosmetics, and jewelry, but breaking into the agency business is a whole different ballgame. I knew it wouldn’t be easy.” Her voice dipped lower, slipping into the tone she only used as Chairwoman Kim. “But that’s exactly why I gave you complete control. I told you to offer better deals than anyone else, even if it meant taking a loss. I said profitability didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was bringing in a face that could cement Rael’s name in the industry.”

She let the words sink in, then sighed. “And yet, two months in, and you still haven’t signed a single person.”

Kang-Hee slowly sank to her knees. Her heart was hammering, cold sweat running down her back. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bolt. But she also wanted to defend herself, because she wasn’t in the wrong here. Sure, Rael Group was a powerhouse in its own lane, but in the agency world, they were nothing. They were not even a newborn baby. They were more like an unformed fetus.

Asking her to bring in A-list celebrities and influencers was insane. Kang-Hee lifted her head, ready to explain, but before she could, Hyang-Gi beat her to it.

“I only have one biological daughter, Soso. But you’re my daughter too, blood or not.” Her voice softened. “When I die, everything will go to you and Soso, split evenly. But if I just hand it to you and you don’t know how to survive, how to hold your ground, you’ll lose it all anyway.”

Ju Kang-Hee shut her mouth. She wasn’t about to whine and make excuses to the one person who just called her family. At this point, it was better to change tactics than to keep banging her head against a wall.

“I apologize, Chairwoman.”

“Now that’s the look I was waiting for. That’s my girl.” A mix of pride and something almost melancholic settled on Hyang-Gi’s face.

She had said “my girl” just like her late mother used to. God, she was terrifying. How was Kang-Hee supposed to hold anything back after that? Kim Hyang-Gi didn’t just know how to get what she wanted. She commanded people with words alone.

Swallowing hard, Kang-Hee straightened her back and began her report. “Realistically, recruiting A-list celebrities or major influencers to a brand-new agency that hasn’t even launched is nearly impossible. No matter how good the offer is, they’re used to an industry where trust doesn’t exist. Signing with an unproven company is simply too risky.”

“So you’re saying they’re used to getting stabbed in the back, and now they want to hit back. Got it. So?”

“I think it would be wise to lower our expectations and aim for a different angle. Like hype, potential investments, something that could generate interest rather than immediate prestige.”

“You know I hate buzzwords. ‘Potential investment’ or ‘long-term strategy’ are just fancy ways of saying we should waste time grooming some no-name rookie from scratch. And I don’t have the patience for that. If I’m putting money into this, I want someone solid from the get-go. So that leaves us with hype. But how would you make a nobody go viral?”

“It’s a long shot, but not impossible. We happen to have a connection to someone who’s very popular right now.”

Kang-Hee slid her tablet across the desk. The screen was paused on a video.

“He’s good-looking. What’s with the outfit? Ah, it’s a game. Is this that LOST thing everyone’s been talking about?”

“Yes. Right now, he’s the biggest name in the game. I can’t say how long his fame will last, but at the moment, he’s so popular that broadcast networks are scrambling to get an interview with him.”

“So he’s got a ton of people fighting over him. And yet, you’re still showing him to me, which means you have a way to get to him.”

“All these networks and agencies want him, but none of them can find him. He’s completely off the grid. Everyone’s running in circles trying to track him down.”

“Get to the point.”

“It’s on the next slide.”

Hyang-Gi swiped the screen, then stopped.

“Why is she here? And is that Resa?”

Her daughter’s face was on the screen, standing next to her only real friend, Theresa.

“See the guy in the black robe standing in front of Soso? That’s him. The same guy the entire entertainment industry is trying to track down.”

A slow grin spread across Hyang-Gi’s face. “Call Soso.”

“She’s not the cooperative type. If we push her too hard, she’ll dig her heels in.”

“When does she start work?”

“Her contract starts in less than a week.”

“Tell her she gets another month off if she makes this happen.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s not just the hype. The face is good. Not just handsome, but interesting. This season’s collection is themed around wolves, and he’s exactly the look I want.”

This was the real reason Theresa had messaged Do-Jin, unaware she’d been used as a pawn to draw out the guy in black.