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Chapter 3
Lee Shin looked out the second-floor window.
As expected of a chaebol family mansion—absurdly huge. No end in sight.
And yet, in this vast space, not a single ally of mine?
Completely isolated, treated worse than a dog that gets to roam freely across that huge yard.
Yeah, that’s me.
“Ha, maybe setting Law-abiding Spirit and Ethics to zero was overkill?”
To preserve the character concept, he had set certain stats to extremes, never imagining it would come back as a boomerang.
“Well, it is interesting. Since the game became reality, the empty spaces are getting filled with story.”
For example, perhaps because his Reputation stat was zero, the daily barrage of insults hurled at Lee Shin on TV made perfect sense.
In the game, it was just a stat that made recruitment harder and made it easier to incur hostility from surrounding factions, but in reality, it translated into people outright pointing fingers, shouting, “That bastard’s a son of a bitch!!”
It even felt like it had dropped into the negatives.
“Come to think of it, it also makes sense that this character became a chaebol.”
From the start, the concept was a character with no actual abilities who scraped by purely through charm and money.
So what happens when that’s brought into reality?
A reason has to be created.
The process has to be adjusted to match the outcome.
“No ability means self-made success is impossible. So naturally, it becomes, ‘Born rich.’ And the reason someone can do all kinds of dogshit and still be charming is…”
The unrealistically handsome face reflected in the mirror, and the tall physique he could never dream of in real life.
From start to finish, the only thing he’d ever done well was being born with a diamond spoon in his mouth.
“Third-generation chaebol.”
In the end, I dug my own grave.
Lee Shin leaned his chin on the window frame and laughed.
“Puhuhu, interesting. Fun. Damn fun.”
With no warning signs, he’d been struck by lightning and entered the game.
He’d been called a junkie, bastard, scoundrel—every insult under the sun.
Now, he was treated worse than a dog.
And yet, Lee Shin was laughing.
So what? What’s the big deal?
What if I’m a scoundrel? What if I’m a bastard?
Being a chaebol isn’t what’s important. Being treated worse than a dog isn’t what’s important.
Look—at this pounding heart.
“Good. The simpler the plan, the better.”
________________________________________
This is a story from the past—when Lee Shin was in middle school.
Back then, Lee Shin was weak in many ways. Small and frail, with no parents.
His family was poor, and he wore his older brother’s ill-fitting school uniform, earning him mockery from classmates.
Perhaps it was no surprise that someone like Lee Shin became a target of bullying.
At that age, school life ran on the law of the strong.
A bread bag flying into the back of his head.
The snickering of the perpetrators.
The deliberate avoidance from bystanders.
For Lee Shin, who wanted a quiet life, the classroom was far from a pleasant place.
Most kids, under that relentless torment, would either burst into tears or explode in anger.
The slightly smarter ones might have gone to the teacher.
Lee Shin had tried all of those.
The result? Utterly useless.
On the day he’d been beaten up in retaliation, after curses, warnings, and flying fists had cornered him helplessly— there was one thing that set Lee Shin apart from others.
Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, he ran his hand over the cold electronic device in his pocket.
‘That should be enough, right?’
A person must know exactly what they have.
Only then can they get what they want.
It was a truth about life that middle school Lee Shin had realized.
•••
Self-objectivity.
Middle school Lee Shin didn’t know the term, but instinctively understood it.
From a young age, he was unusually good at it—so much so that it could come across as cynical.
What can I show off? What weapons do I have?
He knew that making an accurate judgment was the only way to increase the odds of a plan’s success.
Lee Shin used dozens of IDs to post continuously, staggering the timing.
On top of that, he threw everything he had into the mix, from public offices to morning TV shows, news, and small online newspapers.
To repeat—middle school Lee Shin was small and poor.
And, by sheer luck, the bully was the child of a very large corporation’s owner.
The same disadvantage that had made him a bullying target became his greatest weapon.
The frame was set instantly, and the flames of righteous indignation spread like wildfire across the country.
And thus, Lee Shin secured the peace he had wanted.
Compared to back then, his current situation was far better.
After all, who created the character “Lee Shin”?
The very person who had placed a weapon gently in his palm—none other than himself.
When creating him, the overall abilities had been set below average.
The only high stat was Wealth, but he wasn’t stupid—showing off money inside a chaebol family was pointless.
Besides, he was effectively under house arrest.
‘Even setting aside money I can’t use right now—’
Lee Shin still had one weapon left: Charm.
A stat that allowed one to captivate or persuade characters.
In GM, players could use it to interact with characters in various ways—raising favorability to gain greater benefits, or using goodwill to get valuable information.
Depending on the number, it could unlock hidden quests, or even allow recruitment of characters normally impossible to recruit by meddling in hidden stories.
‘Of course, it’s not without drawbacks.’
As the saying goes, where there’s attention, there’s trouble—high-Charm characters drew attention but also easily made enemies through events like jealousy or rivalry.
Depending on how it was used, it could produce enormous effects, but if not actively utilized, it was worse than useless.
For that reason, many players considered Charm a mediocre stat—but Lee Shin had a lot of it.
No, “a lot” didn’t even begin to cover it.
The most.
The best.
At least in the field of Charm, Lee Shin was unmatched in this world.
[ Charm 101 ]
A stat exceeding the player’s limit of 100—Charm at 101.
The ultimate weapon he had obtained by sacrificing almost all other stats.
Once you’re certain of your weapon, the rest is easy—just wield it to the fullest.
He moved.
Lee Shin’s expression changed as he grabbed the doorknob.
Erasing his trademark mischievous grin, replacing it with a soft, benevolent smile and adding a touch of smiling eyes.
When he stepped out and saw himself in the full-length mirror, he had already transformed into an undeniably attractive man.
“Hello. Good morning!”
________________________________________
Every house has its own unique atmosphere.
If it’s a quiet family’s home, it will feel calm from the moment you enter, and if the family is full of energy, the house will carry a cheerful atmosphere.
The atmosphere of the Lee family mansion falls into the former category.
A stiffness that goes beyond calmness.
When Vice Chairman Lee Youngbin, the head of the family, comes, it can even add a sense of menace.
But this atmosphere has been changing recently.
In just a few days, the change in the mansion’s mood has been most keenly felt by the employees.
“It’s strange—really strange.”
“What’s strange, unnie?”
“When I first came here, I felt a chill. Like I was catching a cold, my body would shiver, but a few days ago, strangely enough, that chill disappeared.”
“Maybe you really had a cold?”
“Do you think I can’t even tell the difference between a cold and not?”
“Hee, I’m just joking. Honestly, I felt the same. Before, it felt kind of uncomfortable, but lately it’s like that’s gone?”
“Right! You feel it too?”
It wasn’t just them.
The caretakers in charge of the garden and arboretum, the security guards protecting this vast mansion, and even the chefs responsible for all their meals—every one of them.
They could all physically feel that the strange pressure that had weighed down the mansion was easing.
Everyone was curious.
Why? Because of what?
At that moment, a bright voice happened to come from over there.
“Good morning! Sujin noona. Hi! Miyeong noona, hello~”
“You’re awake, young master.”
“Good morning, young master.”
“Young master, just call me god instead—it’s less awkward. Oh, Lucky! You’re full of energy today too. Good morning. High five!”
It was Lee Shin.
He was greeting each person with the kindest voice in the world. The occasional bit of cuteness was a killer point.
When Lee Shin bent down to waist level to press his palm against the Samoyed’s paw, the employees each tried to hide their smiles.
A man who had been confined to his room for misconduct, suddenly, for some reason, was greeting everyone in an incredibly cheerful manner, and strangely enough, it wasn’t unpleasant to see.
‘Just look at those smiling eyes. Seriously, his looks are a work of art.’
‘He acts like a delinquent, but looks so gentle. What are we supposed to do with that gap?’
Honestly, if you put aside his delinquent behavior, Lee Shin had a likeable face. Especially to the opposite sex, he was impossible to truly dislike.
First of all, he was absurdly handsome.
Tall, with proportions that drew admiration. Slightly slender from staying away from exercise, but with long, graceful shoulders that made it all the better.
As for his face—what more can be said? With puppy-like features and drooping eyes that, when smiling, made you wonder if such a harmless creature could exist. Enough to stir the protective instincts of both men and women alike.
That such a person could commit such unspeakable acts of delinquency……
Just like the saying that if cats weren’t cute, they’d have gone extinct, if Lee Shin weren’t this jaw-droppingly good-looking, he would’ve been buried alive already. For real.
As they were briefly lost in admiring his face, Lee Shin broke into their thoughts.
“Noonas, I have something to ask.”
“Yes, yes! Please go ahead.”
“It’s nothing much. I just don’t see the butler—where did he go today?”
“The butler? I think today is his day off, right?”
“Yes, it’s his day off. Did you need something from him?”
“No, it’s just that today’s the day the groceries arrive. It’s kind of the biggest event of the week, but the person who’s always there isn’t here.”
Don’t worry about it.
Lee Shin casually waved his hand and turned away.
And so they didn’t see the genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
He walked on nonchalantly toward the outside. In the yard, as large as a small sports field, several employees bowed to him.
Lee Shin responded to each of them again with a friendly smile.
“Changseok hyung, did you have a good weekend? I heard you went out with your girlfriend yesterday. No wonder your face is half its size… hahaha!!”
“Take it easy, take it easy. Oh, it looks clean enough. Didn’t you say before that your back wasn’t doing well? What are you doing brushing like that if your back hurts?”
Just one week.
That’s how long it had taken for Lee Shin to break down their guard and win their favor.
If the owner who had warned them not to get involved with Lee Shin saw this, he’d be dumbfounded. Who would have guessed that Lee Shin, who had swallowed his manners whole, would smile so warmly at the employees?
It’s like this—if you’re always nice and one time you’re not, you’re a jerk; but if you’re always dismissive and one time you’re nice, you’re an angel. Lee Shin had, before anyone realized it, become their angel.
“Are you going to the arboretum again today?”
“Looking at plants puts my mind at ease. Oh, right!”
As he entered the doorway, Lee Shin paused and asked,
“My laptop’s still in the usual spot, right?”
“If you mean the central lounge, it should still be there.”
Just as the arboretum caretaker said—the central lounge.
There was the laptop, right where Lee Shin always sat. His eyes immediately searched for the LAN cable connected to it.
Seeing that the eraser he’d left on top of the cable was still there, it was certain that no one had touched it. Lee Shin smiled in satisfaction and sat down.
Before turning on the monitor, he didn’t forget to look around.
He pressed the power button, entered the password, and a window appeared immediately.
Against a black background, numbers and English letters filled the screen—it was code.
‘Let’s finish this.’
Lee Shin licked his lips and ran his fingers across the keyboard.
Entering commands, converting code. Deleting or inserting variables.
New windows popped up—this mansion’s security protocols.
There were many.
No wonder—it was a chaebol family. Unlike ordinary households, the security system was absurdly thick.
But, as is usually the case, security is designed to defend against threats coming from the outside. Which means, if you spend a week working at it from the inside through a LAN connection…
‘Knock, and it shall be opened!’
He inserted the USB key code.
The decoys he had planted over the past week all activated simultaneously.
Wiiiing─
The lights on the main unit in Lee Shin’s room blinked on and off. Soon, the CCTV closest to the room began blinking in the same way one by one—
Through the second-floor hallway where the guest rooms were, down the stairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen.
Occasionally, unexpected code popped up.
It was the limit of working outside his specialty. But Lee Shin wasn’t flustered. Today, after all, was when he would make the final move… no, settle things once and for all.
“Alright, done!”
He had hijacked access rights.
Now this house was his.
Forty minutes later, Lee Shin greeted the caretaker he’d seen earlier, his face refreshed.
“Mmm~ Phytoncides! Coffee in the arboretum is the best.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Oh, leave the laptop as it is, as always. I’ll be coming again tomorrow.”
“I’ll make a note.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
Leaving behind those words, Lee Shin walked back on the way to the dining room.
And again, with every person he met, he smiled with his eyes, continuing to build rapport. Most of his greetings were along the lines of, “Please enjoy your meal.”
Room, arboretum, dining room.
Having repeated this route for the past week, no one found anything odd about his actions.
Even while he ate.
Even when he went into his room.
Even the security guard checking the room’s CCTV.
— “He just lay down on the bed. Probably about to sleep.”
— “Confirmed.”
He loosened the guard wrapped tightly around him with an out-of-the-ordinary “charm.”
Through repeated actions, he created gaps in their vigilance.
And into that gap, he slipped in a secret move no one knew about.
Lee Shin closed his eyes and quietly began his own countdown.
“3, 2, 1. Ding!”
At that moment, the laptop left in the arboretum roared to life, running furiously, and the monitors in the security room lagged before the screens switched.
What replaced them was yesterday’s footage.
And at that moment—
Beeeep―!!
The fire alarm blared violently!
While everyone’s attention was drawn to the commotion in the arboretum, Lee Shin calmly stood up and walked down the hallway.
Carefully slipping out the back door, hiding in a laundry basket, changing clothes, and heading down to the basement.
If written out like this it sounds long, but soon before him was the ark that would grant him freedom.
It was none other than the grocery delivery truck scheduled to arrive today!
“Mmm, the sweet taste of freedom.”
Lee Shin hopped lightly into the cargo bed of the grocery delivery truck waiting in the basement.
