Chapter 19
<Bad Ending Maker Episode19>
Nepalm.
South Korea's largest game company and publisher.
The headquarters is in Gangnam, but most of its in-house production studios are located in Pangyo’s Developer Tower. A 50-story building exclusively occupied by Nepalm and its subsidiaries.
Inside this lavish high-rise, the team leaders of Wings Online gathered in the largest conference room, Room 1.
“Starting next Monday, we’re changing the payment model and launching cash items.”
A striking young man delivered the announcement tonelessly.
His employee badge hung around his neck: Team Leader Eunhasu, Development Team 2.
GM Eunhasu.
The new director of Wings Online.
And…
Parachute.
Shinji, her straight hair framing a glare, side-eyed Eunhasu.
It was an open secret: Eunhasu was the youngest son of Nepalm’s chairman.
After majoring in business at an Ivy League university, he’d returned to Korea and been parachuted into leadership roles across multiple projects.
There had been resistance, but Eunhasu delivered results—profits, at least.
Yet every game he touched crumbled.
Excessive cash incentives shortened lifespans, driving users away…
He’d repeat the cycle: drain a game’s vitality, then abandon it. The hollowed-out shells would stagger on before shutting down.
Those in the know called him:
Black Hole.
A void that sucked in profits while spitting out ruined games and users.
He didn’t play games. Didn’t even like them.
A pure businessman, selling “products” to maximize returns.
Loathed by frontline developers, adored by upper management.
That was Eunhasu.
“Next week? Isn’t that ahead of schedule? Users will revolt.”
“Users. Users. Always users…”
Eunhasu sneered as the planning team leader voiced concerns.
“How many times have I heard that word since joining? Whose side are you on—Nepalm’s or the users’?”
Dongha, the bear-like QA team leader, shifted uncomfortably.
“Must we choose? Nepalm and users share a symbiotic…”
“Symbiotic? What delusional bullshit—”
Eunhasu’s hollow laugh cut through the room as he scanned the table.
“How did Mr. Anchovy treat users?”
“Huh?”
“The former director. GM Anchovy. You’re all clearly still under his influence. What was his approach?”
Dongha answered slowly, “He called them… adventurers.”
“Adventurers? Even in official meetings?”
“Everywhere. Always.”
Nods rippled through the room.
“Adventurers exploring the worlds we built,” Dongha added.
“We were their supporters. His constant refrain.”
Pfft—
Eunhasu’s lips curled into a sneer.
“Novel-writing idealists. No wonder profits tanked.”
Silence fell. He raised his voice:
“Mark my words. From today, users are pigs.”
“What?”
“Livestock. They’ll grunt and gobble whatever feed we toss. Say it: pigs.”
Pale-faced team leaders stared. Eunhasu shrugged.
“Too harsh? You’ll see.”
“Backlash from monetization? Obviously. So we throw them slop.”
He snapped at the planning lead:
“Top up remaining subscriptions with bonus cash gems proportionally. Write this down.”
“Y-yes.”
“Make half the cash items buyable with in-game currency—convenience stuff. One-month limit.”
As the planner typed frantically, Eunhasu continued:
“And flood all accounts with 2-week XP boosts and crafting success buffs. Sugarcoat the poison.”
Shinji raised her hand. “This is too rushed—”
“Quiet!”
Eunhasu slashed the air. Shinji bit her tongue.
Using English because he studied abroad? Ugh.
“……Why is this ‘world’s top game’ barely fifth in VR revenue?”
His gaze pinned each leader.
“Because you’re incompetent. All of you. That fool Anchovy was just the worst.”
Lee Kyung-hee from management nodded beside him. Shinji’s nails dug into her palms.
“Adven-tures?” Eunhasu mocked. “Think this is some real fantasy realm?”
“It’s a game! A fake attraction! An amusement park!”
He slammed the table.
“You don’t just sell tickets—you sell drinks, meals, merch! Milk every fucking cent!”
Heads bowed.
“……When did you last get real bonuses?”
Eunhasu’s sudden shift left them reeling.
“Five years ago at launch? Pathetic.”
A smirk.
This time, Eunhasu smiled warmly.
“If we follow my plan and make a profit, of course, you’ll all get your share.”
“……!”
A different light flickered across some team leaders’ faces compared to moments earlier.
Incentives…….
Now that he mentioned it, it had been an eternity since they’d last received any. They likely hadn’t gotten any since the game topped the user count rankings.
“I’ll say it plainly—if we add cash items as I propose, we’ll earn far more than we did at launch. And your incentives? They’ll skyrocket.”
Once again, Team Leader Lee Kyung-hee nodded beside him.
Who would refuse money? Even the disgruntled team leaders began to relax.
“…….”
“…….”
Everyone except Shinji and Dongha.
“We’re all here to make a living. Let’s aim to make a killing while we’re at it.”
Eunhasu clapped his hands sharply.
“So let’s do this right. Share any cash item ideas you have—no holding back. I’ll ensure contributions are fairly rewarded.”
“…….”
“Next Monday, then. Five days left. We’re transitioning to F2P (Free-to-Play) with microtransactions. Prepare accordingly.”
This meeting had always been a one-sided announcement of decisions already set in stone.
Eunhasu issued instructions to each team.
As he finished, he added belatedly, as though it were an afterthought:
“Ah! And three weeks from now, when Season 6 launches, we’ll sell ‘that cash item.’”
“……!”
Though he’d only called it ‘that cash item,’ everyone knew exactly what he meant.
The 100% Enhancement Success Ticket.
The very cash item everyone had dreaded was becoming reality.
But no one dared oppose him. They simply sealed their lips and endured Eunhasu’s solo performance.
“Come to think of it, we never named that item, did we?”
Eunhasu stroked his chin.
“Since this game is Wings…”
With a self-satisfied grin, he signaled the planning team leader.
“‘Goddess’ Flutter.’ How’s that?”
“Y-Yes! Perfect! Brilliant!”
The planning leader scrambled to jot it down.
“Good. Delegate tasks within your teams and be ready for a progress check Friday. I’m off to meet the directors.”
Eunhasu exited first, Lee Kyung-hee trailing behind.
The team leaders began organizing their assigned workloads.
“…….”
Clench.
Shinji, the graphics team leader, suddenly tightened her fist while distributing tasks.
“Tch……”
Behind thick horn-rimmed glasses, her eyes squeezed shut. Her bitten lips blanched white.
“…….”
Dongha could only watch her with pity.
“Haaah… Refreshing!”
Ten hours after logging out.
Rabo—well-rested, well-fed, and freshly bathed—logged back into Wings Online.
Oasis, who’d been knitting while waiting, sprang up like an eager puppy (minus the ears and tail).
“Master! You’re back!”
“Yeah. Anything happen?”
“Yes! Master, have you heard? They’re making the game free next week and adding cash items!”
“Huh. Faster than expected.”
Rabo opened the in-game browser to check Wings’ official site.
The announcement was there: service going free, cash items launching.
‘The response…’
As expected, the comment section seethed with outrage over the abrupt monetization shift under the new director.
“Hmm.”
Rabo studied the notice intently.
“…….”
Oasis peeked at him nervously.
“Are you… alright, Master?”
“Hm? Oh, this works out.”
“What?”
Oasis blinked in shock.
“There’ll be EXP boosters, right?”
“I… suppose?”
“Leveling’s brutal past 70. This solves it. I’ll hit 90 before Season 6.”
“…….”
“Plus other leveling aids. This’ll streamline things.”
Oasis’s jaw dropped slightly.
Even expecting this, seeing the game she’d devoted her life to being torn apart…
Yet Rabo remained calm. He intended to weaponize the changes for his own goals, charging forward like an unstoppable ox.
Master truly… never wavers.
As Rabo scanned the cash item list, Oasis marveled inwardly.
“Need to top up this account… Done.”
Having roughly decided his purchases, Rabo closed the browser and turned to Oasis.
“What’d you do while I was gone?”
“Ah! Right!”
Oasis snapped to attention.
“Completed the second class change! Joined three more parties! Reached level 55!”
“Good girl.”
Rabo scratched under her chin. Oasis giggled, transparent as always.
“Smooth sailing. Then…”
Grin.
Rabo drew his sword with a wicked smile.
“Shall we ‘harvest’ your friends in order?”
In that moment, Oasis became certain:
No matter how predatory Neipam’s cash shop became…
It could never surpass the ruthlessness of her master in pursuit of his goals.
