CHAPTER 78: CONTRACT.

"My company pays the maximum amount of tax every month and never touches anything shady. I’ve got nothing to worry about."

Suho leaned back in his chair at the café, stirring his latte like a man who owned half the city.

Inside though, he was screaming: Influence is great, but wouldn’t it be better if the company had more influence... and lost more money doing it?

Across from him, Choi Yeji tapped her delicate fingers against the cup and fell silent. She had known Suho since they were children—the Kim family’s proud young heir, always surrounded by rumors, deals, and that effortless confidence. Now here he was, casually offering her a legal director position.

Her chest felt tight, not only from the job offer but because of who was making it. She had admired him for years, quietly holding that crush in the corners of her heart. Yet she forced herself to stay professional.

"Suho," she said, adjusting her glasses with practiced calm, "your company is still small. A garment factory, a renovation firm, even Horny Princess Interactive... but none of them need a full legal department yet."

"Yeji, you can’t just look at the present," Suho sighed, pressing his temple. "It’s only a matter of time before the company grows. Better to set up the legal department early as a precaution."

Why do lawyers always ask so many questions? He grumbled inwardly. One hundred thousand whys, every single time.

Yeji frowned. "If you can guarantee that your company’s future won’t break laws or cross moral lines, then I’ll join you. That’s my bottom line."

Law and morality—that was her unshakable standard. After the scandal with the Rick and Son Group, she had no intention of working for another heartless corporation.

Suho nodded firmly. "I can guarantee that."

In truth, he was more worried about the system draining him dry than about laws. But hey, a promise was a promise.

Yeji’s lips curved into a faint smile. She believed him—at least enough to take a leap. "Then let’s make an appointment to sign the contract."

"Tomorrow at the Steel Cup T-Shirt Factory," Suho said, a grin tugging at his mouth. "You know the place."

"Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow."

As they left the café side by side, Yeji allowed herself a small, private flutter of joy. Working under Suho meant she could finally be close to him again. Maybe... just maybe... this was more than fate.

In a cramped rental apartment, Jiang Jiu slammed back a half-empty can of Red Bull, his eyes bloodshot as he robotically clicked away. His avatar hacked at monsters in Horny Princess Online, the loot counter stuck at zero.

One hour. Two hours. Three...

By dawn, he slumped back in his chair, running his hands through his greasy hair. "Am I cursed? Not even one drop?"

He checked the guild chat.

"Anyone get anything?"

"Nope. Stayed up all night, zero drops."

"Same here, thought it was just me."

"This game dev must’ve nerfed the drop rate to hell!"

Jiang Jiu cursed under his breath. It wasn’t just him—no one had gotten the new equipment.

"Brother Hao, something’s wrong," he said, frantically calling Chen Cong, the guild’s rich overlord.

"What now? Speak clearly." Chen Cong’s groggy voice rasped through the phone.

"My union farmed all night. Not a single piece dropped. Zero!"

Chen Cong sat up immediately, all drowsiness gone. "Not one?"

"Not one," Jiang Jiu confirmed.

Chen Cong rubbed his chin. Interesting. This was clearly no accident—the devs must’ve lowered the drop rate to absurd levels. But did they think that would stop him?

He typed into guild chat:

"New bounty—20,000 dollars per equipment drop. Keep farming!"

The chat exploded. Gamers who had been on the brink of collapse suddenly became caffeinated zombies. Money talked, and with that much cash on the line, they would grind until their keyboards broke.

Back in his rental flat, Jiang Jiu shoved another row of Red Bulls onto the desk. His eyes gleamed with mad determination.

"So what if the drop rate is hell? If it takes me two nights, three nights, I’ll grind till my fingers bleed. I’m not letting 20k slip away."

Elsewhere in Chicago, Chen Cong wasn’t stopping at his guild. He picked up his phone again.

"Brother Hao! It’s unusual for you to call this early," a teasing voice answered.

"Cut the jokes. I’ve got work. How many players can your studio field?"

"As many as you want. Just say the word."

"I need a full studio grinding new equipment in Horny Princess Online. Pay is 20k per drop. But warning—the explosion rate’s absurdly low. My entire guild farmed overnight and got nothing."

Silence. Then the voice chuckled. "Low drop rate, high payout? Send me the details. My people will take it."

A few minutes later, in a nearby office, Mei Youqian clapped his hands, calling his studio staff together.

"Alright everyone, stop what you’re doing. New job. Grind equipment in Horny Princess Online. The rate is 15k per drop. I’ll send the info to the group chat."

His smirk widened. "And remember—it’s a low drop rate, so recruit more people if you need. The more hands, the better."

Morning, Steel Cup T-Shirt Factory.

Choi Yeji sat across from Suho, scanning the freshly arranged office. Compared to her last visit, the place had changed completely. The old barebones layout was gone. Now there were sleek computers, ergonomic chairs, and potted plants that probably cost more than a semester of law school tuition.

She raised an eyebrow. This guy really spends like water. Is he trying to run a company or audition for "Chaebol of the Year"?

"This is the contract, Yeji. Take a look. If there’s no problem, we can sign," Suho said, sliding the document across the desk.

Yeji carefully read through every line. A lawyer’s habit. After a while, her brow furrowed. She looked up.

"Suho, there’s nothing major wrong with this, but there’s a hidden danger. It needs to be changed."

Suho blinked. "Hidden danger? This is the same contract everyone else signed!"

Yeji gave a tiny smile. "Relax, it’s minor. Right now, the contract says employees get a full month’s salary as long as they’ve worked that month. But what if someone quits after a week? They’d get the whole paycheck and walk away. If malicious people exploited that, it would bleed your funds."

She uncapped a pen and quickly scribbled an amendment into the margin. "So, add a clause: if an employee leaves mid-month, they only get paid for the days worked. Simple and airtight."

She pushed the contract back. "Reprint this with the clause, and I’ll sign."

Suho stared at her handwriting, his face twitching. Amazing. I bring her in to help me lose money, and before she even sits at her desk, she’s plugging the leaks. Why did I hire a lawyer with a functioning brain?!

Still, he had no choice. He signaled for Cho Rin to reprint the contract with Yeji’s clause. A few minutes later, Yeji signed neatly and officially became the legal director of his company.

"Suho, where’s my workstation?" she asked calmly.

Suho froze. Workstation? Right... I forgot about that.

The truth was, he hadn’t planned for her to actually do anything. He just wanted the system to deduct the million-dollar salary. But now she was staring at him like a diligent honor student waiting for homework.