CHAPTER 47: ACQUISITION PRICE: 1.5 MILLION. (2/2)

Cho Rin couldn’t help muttering under her breath: "Does Mr. Kim have some weird hobby? Why does he always go for the companies that look like dying fish?"

Back at headquarters, Suho had barely hung up the phone when Cho Rin peeked in with a clipboard full of notes. "Boss, most positions are filled now, but there’s a problem: we don’t have enough offices for everyone."

Suho tapped his chin. The ground floor was full. The second floor was staff dormitories. He could convert the dorms into offices... But then where would the employees sleep?

He sat in silence for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Simple. If they don’t have dorms, we rent new ones."

He remembered an empty two-story workshop behind the cafeteria—160 square meters per floor. Perfect for dorms. And better yet, renovations meant more system funds burned.

He immediately called Manager Park, the guy who ran the industrial complex. The man answered with his trademark booming laugh.

"Hahaha, Mr. Kim! Renting another workshop? Easy! With your track record, I’ll cut the red tape myself."

After a few minutes of cheerful bargaining, the deal was struck: 450,000 dollars for two years. Paperwork tomorrow.

Suho leaned back with a smug grin. "Done. The dorms upstairs become offices. The new workshop becomes housing. That’s 1.5 million for the game company, plus rent, plus lawyer fees... over 2 million dollars spent already. Halfway there."

Cho Rin, ever the voice of reason, frowned. "But Boss, if we turn the dorms into offices right away, the current residents won’t have anywhere to live. And if we wait until the workshop is ready, the new hires won’t have anywhere to work."

Suho waved off her concerns. "Easy. Finance, accounting, whatever—let them work from home for now. Once the renovations are finished, they can move in. Problem solved."

Cho Rin blinked. "...Finance? From home? That doesn’t sound—"

"Why not?" Suho interrupted, nodding with the confidence of a general planning a war. "We must trust our employees. Remote finance is the future. Silicon Valley would be proud."

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded. He was the boss.

"Wait," Suho added, a wicked smile spreading. "If they’re home, they’ll have to cook for themselves. That means more expenses. So... meal subsidy: 1,500 dollars a month. Each."

Cho Rin froze. She had heard of housing subsidies, transport subsidies... but meal subsidies for remote work? That was new. "Boss, I’ve never—"

"Don’t argue. It’s decided. Let’s burn this money with dignity."

In the lobby, two new hires whispered nervously. Shu Fa, finance. Wu Ya, cashier. They’d just arrived, bright-eyed and cautious, only to find no desks, no computers—nothing.

"Do you think this company is legit?" Wu Ya whispered. "They recruited us but didn’t even think about workstations."

"I don’t know," Shu Fa admitted. "But they paid us in advance. Who does that? It seems... trustworthy? I think?"

Cho Rin appeared, smiling gently. "You two are finance and cashier, right? Follow me."

They scrambled to their feet. "Unni Cho, are our desks ready?"

She hesitated, then delivered the bombshell. "Mr. Kim has decided that, due to space issues, you’ll work from home temporarily."

Both women blinked in unison. "Work... from home? On the first day?"

"Yes," Cho Rin said firmly. "It’s only temporary. Once the office is renovated, you’ll join us here. In the meantime, I’ll send assignments directly to your phones."

They exchanged wary glances but finally nodded. "Understood."

"One more thing," Cho Rin added, almost sheepishly. "Because you’ll be covering your own meals, the company will give you a monthly food subsidy. 1,500 dollars."

The words hung in the air. Shu Fa and Wu Ya’s jaws dropped.

For a long moment, they just stood there.

Finally, Wu Ya whispered, "Sister Ling... does this feel... abnormal to you?"

"Very abnormal," Shu Fa said seriously. "Meal subsidies for remote finance? And that much? I’ve never heard of it."

They both stared at each other, half-expecting hidden cameras to pop out.

Still, it wasn’t like the company was a scam. The factory was real. The workers were real. Surely this wasn’t all a trick just for two rookie hires.

Ding-dong!

Their phones buzzed simultaneously. Both women fumbled to check—and froze again.

[Bank Transfer: +1,500 dollars]

They gawked at the screens, speechless.

Wu Ya whispered, "This... this company is insane."

Shu Fa clutched her phone. "Insane... but in a good way?"

"No, I’m in a hurry; 1.5 million is acceptable."

Suho cut off Choi Yeji before she could even finish her suggestion about negotiating the price down.

It was rare to find such a golden opportunity to burn cash—why on earth would he save money?

Yeji studied him for a long moment, baffled. Here was a man who could easily shave hundreds of thousands off the deal, yet he insisted on spending more. Even the most reckless second-generation chaebols didn’t throw money around like this.

Finally, she sighed and shook her head. "Alright. Since Mr. Kim has made his decision, I’ll contact the other party and arrange the acquisition."

For any normal client, an acquisition meant weeks of haggling, bargaining, and endless paperwork. With Suho, it was a casual nod, a transfer, and done. What should’ve been a battlefield was nothing more than formalities.

Suho leaned back, smug. "Then I’ll trouble Lawyer Choi."

The matter was settled faster than the waiter could bring their coffee.

On the ride back, Cho Rin finally asked the question gnawing at her. "Mr. Kim, do you really plan to buy that game company?"

Suho glanced out the window, unbothered. "Of course."

"But that company has been losing money nonstop. With 1.5 million, you could easily start a fresh studio. Wouldn’t it make more sense to build from scratch than adopt a corpse?"

Her concern was written all over her face. To her, this was madness.

Suho smirked, hiding the truth. In his head, he thought, "It’s much easier to buy a sinking ship and keep punching holes in it." But what came out of his mouth was far more noble.