Choi Seokho doesn’t know much about gas.
Nor does he understand the intricacies of how the gaming ecosystem works.
However, he was well-versed in understanding business on a general level.
"...The price of Golden Resolution is 55,000 won."
And on the first day alone, it sold 50,000 copies.
"Roughly calculating... after deducting taxes and other fees...?"
Steam fees, corporate taxes, local inco taxes, value-added tax.
After deducting everything here and there.
"...It made around 1.3 billion won in just one day?"
Moreover, upon further investigation, he learned that gas generally sell the least on their first day.
It was only natural.
Businesses rarely do well the mont they open.
"So, roughly... even if it sells ten tis more, that’s 13 billion?"
?!
Choi Seokho jumped to his feet.
"This... this is huge, isn’t it?"
If Golden Resolution turned out to be a massive hit,
Kim Donghu, as the largest investor, would naturally receive enormous dividends.
In other words—
"Donghu... can he actually see the future or sothing?"
Kim Donghu had essentially trusted his instincts and made a massive fortune in one go.
In fact, calling him the "largest investor" was an amusing understatent.
A 100% share.
While technically, Donghu’s personal assets and Veritas’ assets were mixed,
"Veritas practically is Donghu, anyway."
Even considering such complicated factors, it was an overwhelmingly profitable situation.
"But did they really make it that well?"
As Choi Seokho thought about Donghu’s ever-growing fortune, he decided to check what had made the ga sell like wildfire.
Click.
The mont he scrolled down, the first thing he saw was the evaluation: "Overwhelmingly Positive."
"That must an it’s incredible, right?"
Guessing the aning of the words, he examined the reviews one by one.
Eventually, Seokho reached one conclusion.
"I guess I’ll have to try it to understand?"
That day.
"...Is my chick underperforming? Why is it dying to even the mobs?"
Choi Seokho realized how utterly talentless he was at gaming.
Late February.
Graduation at Daejong High School.
True to its na as the Korea Comprehensive Art High School,
Daejong High’s graduation ceremonies were known for their extre extravagance.
Because of this, external filming requests were almost always approved without question.
One of the school’s roles was to maximize public exposure for its students.
"Wow, why are there more people every year at the graduation ceremony?"
"Well, the school consistently produces celebrities."
"Yeah, and not just any celebrities—there’s even a gold dalist."
Teachers clicked their tongues as they observed the crowds surrounding the school.
"It’s always idol performances or sothing flashy; it can’t be helped, really."
"Who’s coming this ti?"
"Uh, let’s see... who was it? The one who just debuted with their first song?"
"Was it TriMax? There are so many idols these days, it’s hard to keep track."
The idea of soone at Daejong High forgetting idol nas seed absurd,
but coming from one of the rare traditional subject teachers, it was sowhat understandable.
As they watched the graduation ceremony preparations unfold,
when they finally had a mont of respite, the teachers broached the topic they really wanted to discuss.
"So, do you think he’ll co?"
"Who?"
"Oh, co on, you know who."
"Ah... Kim Donghu?"
Kim Donghu.
The pride of Daejong High.
A living legend of the school.
Its greatest symbol and eternal idol.
...At least, that’s how he was publicly known.
"Would he even feel any attachnt to the school... considering he barely attended?"
In reality, he had been nothing short of a delinquent.
His attendance rate was nearly 1:2 compared to his absences.
Graduating at all was a miracle, and it wouldn’t have been possible without his grades.
"With more absences than attendances, it’s unlikely he’d feel much attachnt to the school."
"Right, but... the chairman was just too... too sympathetic."
The reason Kim Donghu managed to graduate without any controversy?
It was thanks to Chairman Edward Park’s bold interventions.
While the school did allow considerable flexibility for students with entertainnt careers,
Donghu’s extre absenteeism had been unprecedented.
It had sparked heated debates, with many advocating for his retention.
But every ti,
"Adults should never block the path of a talented child."
"We mustn’t confuse ans with ends."
"The school is just one of many places where education can occur."
"If a student can grow elsewhere, that too is an educational environnt."
"Please reconsider the notion that education can only happen within the school walls."
Edward Park had passionately defended Kim Donghu.
And in the end, he managed to graduate.
"Not that he’s shown his face even once since graduating."
It wasn’t an obligation, of course.
The benefits the school gained from graduating Donghu were imnse.
Still—
"It would’ve been nice if he visited just once."
"It’s a bit disappointing, yeah. But, well... he probably didn’t have the ti to grow attached."
"Let’s be honest, though, it’s a win-win. Graduating him boosted competition rates through the roof."
The disappointnt lingered.
If only he could visit just once.
How great would that be?
"The chairman would be thrilled."
"He still talks about it sotis at drinking parties, you know."
"Says Donghu’s piano skills are unmatched, that he should’ve competed, and if piano were an Olympic sport, he’d have won gold."
The teachers mimicked the chairman’s tone, laughing as they alleviated their disappointnt.
"Oh, goodness, look at the ti—it’s five minutes until the ceremony starts!"
"Already? Ti really flies."
They quickly scattered to finish preparing for the graduation.
Since most of the setup had been completed the previous day, there wasn’t much to rush about.
Once the grand performances began, it was just a matter of calming the excited students.
As long as the lines were properly maintained, nothing could go wrong.
"The sound equipnt seems even more powerful than before."
"And not just that! The sound spreads so well now that even a single violin can fill the entire auditorium."
As they chatted while organizing the students into lines, the ti finally ca, and the auditorium fell silent as if the earlier noise had been a lie.
"Greetings, beloved students of Daejong High. I am Edward Park, the owner and supre ruler of this school."
And with that, the graduation ceremony began.
As always, Edward Park's humorous opening speech livened up the mood, skipping over the dull traditional lectures.
After dutifully singing just the first verse of the school anthem,
"Now, let’s enjoy ourselves!"
The graduation performances officially began.
Watching the students laughing and chattering was always a delight.
"Mm, this year’s event is wonderful too."
To Edward Park, there was nothing more student-like than seeing them play and have fun.
"The level is incredibly high as well."
"Exactly. It seems to get better every year."
The principal agreed enthusiastically, mirroring Edward Park’s satisfied smile.
"The performance order is excellent. Ending the joyful performances with calm classical music—great idea."
"That’s how retreats work too. You have fun, and then the final campfire wrings out tears and sniffles. It’s classic."
"Indeed, indeed."
Edward Park casually nodded and glanced at the schedule.
As the principal had said, the final act following the lively performances was a classical music performance.
A beautiful piano recital on a grand piano.
‘It’s a sha I have to do it myself.’
They hadn’t been able to book a professional pianist in ti, and while Edward Park was skilled, he couldn’t compare to soone active in the field.
No, the real reason for his regret was sothing else entirely.
‘If only Donghu could play the piano again.’
The powerful emotion in Donghu’s performances was unparalleled.
Ending the graduation ceremony with that kind of performance would have been perfect.
"But if he’s busy, there’s nothing to be done. A young person’s ti moves quickly, and the old can’t keep up."
"Sorry?"
"Ah, just rambling. Forget it."
As the ceremony continued in its festive atmosphere, the mood gradually wound down.
The curtain dropped as the emcee skillfully guided the event to its conclusion.
There was a brief pause to prepare for the piano to be moved onto the stage.
"Well then, I’ll go prepare for the performance."
"Good luck!"
Just as Edward Park rose from his seat to perform his scheduled piece—
♪♬♩
A sudden sound of a violin echoed from the back of the auditorium, near the entrance.
"...?"
While the audience hadn’t yet pinpointed the source of the sound, Edward Park, standing on the stage, imdiately knew.
"Ah...!"
It was a piece rumored to have been played by those who made a pact with the devil.
The music was fierce yet gentle, sharp yet commanding, filling the auditorium with its overwhelming presence.
Paganini’s Caprice No. 24.
The devil’s music slowly captivated the audience, leaving them breathless.
And the "devil" playing this masterpiece—
When people saw the perforr, their jaws dropped.
Standing there was—
‘Donghu...!’
Kim Donghu, playing the violin, walked slowly toward the stage.
A favor received must be repaid.
How many conveniences had he enjoyed during his ti at school?
With a heart full of gratitude, he took deliberate steps toward the stage.
Toward the teacher who had brought him to Daejong High and supported him unconditionally.
He had wanted to repay this debt earlier,
‘But your unworthy student is so lazy.’
Now was his chance to make up for it.
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