Surviving Restructuring

”I’m really sorry, Eun-Ho.”

Team Leader Lee scratched his head, which only had a few remaining strands of hair left.

”HR said there’s no quota at all this year for converting contract workers to full-time. The economy’s just... rough, you know?”

”So I didn’t make the cut,” Lee Eun-Ho replied calmly, almost indifferently.

His two-year contract would end next month. In other words, he’d soon be unemployed again.

”It’s definitely not because of your performance,” Team Leader Lee quickly replied. ”It’s just... you know, restructuring. Nothing personal.”

”You mean I’m being laid off, right?”

Lee Eun-Ho raised an eyebrow. He wondered whether it was even fair to call firing a contract worker ”restructuring.”

”Yeah... kinda. The company’s struggling, and permanent employees are hard to lay off due to legal stuff. So instead, they just... stop renewing contracts.”

“Which is why they only employ contract workers; they have to get the work done somehow,” Lee Eun-Ho replied.

Contract workers were preferable to companies because there was no severance pay, no strings attached, and they were easy to cut loose.

Team Leader Lee winced. ”Well, I wouldn’t put it exactly like that...”

It was strange, watching the team leader tiptoe around him. This guy used to bark orders loud enough to shake windows. Lee Eun-Ho guessed it was easier to yell when they were on the same team. Now, he looked like one of those recruiters pretending a rejection wasn’t really a rejection.

”Yeah. I figured this was coming,” Lee Eun-Ho said quietly.

He did not feel angry or betrayed. Maybe he just saw Team Leader Lee for what he was—just another worker doing what he was told.

Team Leader Lee forced a smile. ”You’re okay, right? Don’t let it get to you, Eun-Ho.”

”I don’t blame you, sir.”

Eun-Ho smiled bitterly, which seemed to relax the team leader. He even kicked up a foot on the folding chair next to his desk, like they were just chatting over coffee.

”Phew... You’ve always been tough. That’s good. You’ll be fine wherever you go. I mean, you’re still young.”

From behind the cubicle walls, Lee Eun-Ho could feel eyes watching. Everyone was probably thinking the same thing.

He’s a tough guy. He’ll be fine. No big deal.

”Hey, let’s get lunch,” Team Leader Lee suddenly offered. ”My treat.

How about blood sausage soup?”

”Uh, Team Leader... the blood sausage place is like a ten-minute walk. Might be rough for Eun-Ho,” someone chimed in.

”Ah... okay. Soup rice place across the street, then? Sounds good?”

Even ten minutes was a stretch when one had to walk with a limp. However, that was just how Eun-Ho was now.

”Thank you, but I’ve already got plans. Do enjoy, though.”

***

Eun-Ho did not have any plans; he just couldn’t sit there pretending everything was normal over soup. He knew they would slurp down their soups in five minutes flat anyway. Hence, he figured it would be better to just grab a bento from the convenience store and eat it somewhere quiet.

At least, that was the plan until he made eye contact with Ji-Eun from the team next door.

”The last two years flew by, huh? Can’t believe the contract’s already up,” he said casually and then sipped on his coffee, which was slightly nutty and slightly sour.

The coffee was just right. He was really going to miss this rooftop café, the skyline view from the twenty-fifth floor, the little garden with trees and flowers, and drinking coffee in the open air.

Getting to just sit and watch from above felt especially great. It was nice not having to worry about how long it would take to get somewhere or not getting anxious about someone behind him getting annoyed that he was slow.

”You talk like it’s someone else’s story, Eun-Ho,” Ji-Eun said with a faint smile across from him.

She joined the company as a contractual secretary a week after Lee Eun-Ho had, putting them in the same boat. They weren’t exactly close, but they often had little rooftop chats.

”Do you think we’re getting bonuses this time?”

”I have no idea.”

”When’s Executive Director Park coming back?”

”He already left for the day.”

With a shrug, Lee Eun-Ho replied, ”Well, people have been saying for five years that the full-time conversion rate is basically zero.”

He knew from the start that this big company would never give someone like him a real shot. Honestly, landing even a contract job here probably came down to dumb luck.

”What’s your plan now?” Ji-Eun asked.

”I’ve been searching for another job, but you know how difficult that is.”

He did not mean anything by what he had said, yet Ji-Eun immediately looked apologetic.

”Oh, I’m sorry.” Ji-Eun even lowered her head. She was way too polite—his limp was not her fault.

”I’ll have to find something that’s not too hard physically. I mean, come on. I’m not gonna starve at twenty-nine just because I don’t have a job,” Lee Eun-Ho said.

”You’re so optimistic, Eun-Ho,” Ji-Eun replied.

Lee Eun-Ho smiled bitterly. He wouldn’t say he was optimistic; he just did not have high expectations in general.

Wouldn’t most people feel the same way I do if they were once a rising track star but got into an accident before college entrance exams and ended up with a permanent limp?

Lee Eun-Ho spent years recovering and eventually got into a mediocre community college for business. He then graduated with decent grades but had since been bouncing around contract gigs in a brutal job market.

Since he never really expected anything great from this contract life, he never had much to complain about. If there was one thing he did wish for, it was to feel his heart race so hard it could burst.

However, that was impossible now unless he was born again. Or so he believed until the damn broadcast began.

Bzzt—

”Oh, we’ve got fifteen minutes left. We should head down soon,” Lee Eun-Ho said, already gathering his things.

”Already?” Ji-Eun looked surprised.

There were ten steps to the return counter and sixteen to the elevator. For someone like him—who had a dragging leg and a slow gait—that was a lot more than it sounded.

Besides, the elevators on the twenty-fifth floor were always packed with the rooftop café’s regulars and chain-smoking office workers. If they didn’t go now, they’d run out of time trying to get in one.

Bzzt—

Ji-Eun smiled. ”You’re still so punctual even when everything’s winding down.”

Lee Eun-Ho shrugged. ”I’d rather not get scolded over something like being late.”

Stretching out her hand, Ji-Eun offered, ”Here. Let me take your cup.”

”Thanks.”

Lee Eun-Ho slightly bent down, grabbed his right pant leg, and began the familiar rhythm of dragging the stiff leg and taking a step with the left. Even short distances felt long when he was limping.

While they walked, a muffled voice cracked through the rooftop speakers.

[To everyone in the building... please...]

Ji-Eun glanced up. ”Hey, was that an announcement?”

”Can’t really make it out...”

The static worsened, buzzing louder as he slowly walked toward the elevator.

[Once again, this is an announcement.]

Then, out of nowhere, something happened that Lee Eun-Ho never could have expected.

[As of yesterday’s board meeting, Earth has been approved for sale. Restructuring will follow.]

Restructuring?

Lee Eun-Ho furrowed his brow.

[Those selected for restructuring will be chosen through a fair trial-based system.]

”Wait,” Lee Eun-Ho turned to Ji-Eun. “They’re not talking about our Earth, are they?”

”What kind of prank is this?” Ji-Eun asked. ”Restructuring trials? Is this a joke?”

The others on the rooftop started murmuring in small groups, all just as confused as Lee Eun-Ho and Ji-Eun.

”What the hell is going on?”

”They say it’s playing on other floors too. Is this some building-wide thing?”

”Wait, I think this broadcast is nationwide...”

A few guys in hoodies and jeans checked their phones and chatted. They were wearing yellow ID tags from that game company leasing the sixth to ninth floors.

[The first trial will begin shortly. Please evacuate to the safe zone before time runs out.]

”Is this supposed to be a disaster drill? What do they mean by trials? They’re really turning everything into a game these days.”

”Maybe we’ll get a prize if we complete it.”

Lee Eun-Ho figured that game companies provided longer lunch breaks, but he did not have that luxury.

”You’re still heading down?” Ji-Eun asked, watching Lee Eun-Ho.

”You know how my team leader flips if I’m late,” Lee Eun-Ho replied.

”Still...”

It was 12:49 PM; he only had ten minutes left before lunch ended. Just being a minute late would get him scolded like in high school.

”I don’t know... I’ve got a bad feeling about this, ” Ji-Eun muttered. ”Is this really just a fire drill?”

As she started chewing her nails, they heard loud, unnatural ticks echoing across the rooftop.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Then, on the floor, a glowing green circle appeared. It was big enough to cover most of the tables at the café and the entire rooftop floor.

[A safe zone has been created.]

[You have ten minutes to enter it. Anyone outside the safe zone after the time limit will be affected by restructuring.]

”Whoa, where did that come from?” one of the game company employees wondered, stepping closer. ”Was it painted ahead of time?”

”Is this a projection? Maybe it’s holographic?”

The game company workers were more fascinated than alarmed, caring more about how the circle was formed.

”Looks like we’re supposed to step inside,” Ji-Eun commented.

”Yeah. At least we won’t miss the elevator with everyone distracted,” Lee Eun-Ho replied.

Ji-Eun hesitated. ”But... that ticking is—”

Lee Eun-Ho couldn’t seem to care less. He turned toward the elevator, which seemed to make Ji-Eun nervous.

”Could it really be just from the speakers? Well, I’ll just go with y—”

”Ji-Eun? Eun-Ho?” someone cut in.

”Oh, Manager Choi!” Ji-Eun replied.

Manager Choi, the most influential figure in Ji-Eun’s department, walked over with his friend, who reeked of cigarettes like him. Lee Eun-Ho remembered Ji-Eun once saying he was hard to deal with.

”You two still up here? Lunch break is almost over,” Manager Choi said, tone already scolding.

Lee Eun-Ho was about to say they were heading down, but Ji-Eun jumped in first.

”We were about to, but then there was this announcement. It said something about restructuring.”

”Restructuring?” Manager Choi laughed.

“Yes, didn’t you hear the announcement?”

”I did, but come on. That can’t be real. It’s not even an official company announcement.”

”Still, just in case... I thought maybe we should wait ten minutes,” Ji-Eun gently reasoned, pointing at the people already standing inside the green circle.

Lee Eun-Ho could tell that Ji-Eun wanted to be part of this trial. She had good instincts, which made it even weirder how anxious she seemed today.

”You know attendance is the foundation of work life, right? I know this won’t be your lifetime job, but still...” Manager Choi muttered.

The unspoken words were loud: they were just temps.

Manager Choi turned to Lee Eun-Ho. ”You’re staying too, Eun-Ho?”

”This is really none of your business, sir,” Lee Eun-Ho replied before he could stop himself. ”We’ll be just a minute late, at most.”

It wasn’t something Lee Eun-Ho would normally say or do.

“Seriously?” Manager Choi frowned. “A guy with a bum leg should at least try to show some effort. Tsk.”

Ji-Eun stepped between them to end the conversation. ”You go ahead, sir. Let’s go, Eun-Ho.”

When their manager left, Ji-Eun muttered, ”Sorry.”

”For what?” Lee Eun-Ho asked.

”For dragging you into this.”

”Don’t be. I’m used to hearing comments like that.”

Perhaps moved by the emotion in Ji-Eun’s eyes, Lee Eun-Ho took a breath and limped into the circle beside her.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this for me,” Ji-Eun said.

[Ten seconds remaining.]

”I just didn’t want to share an elevator with him. Besides, like he said, it’s not like we’ll be here for long,” Lee Eun-Ho replied.

Ji-Eun cracked a smile. ”I can’t even laugh because I’m in the same boat.”

Through the glass, Lee Eun-Ho could see Manager Choi and his friend waiting for the elevator, laughing obnoxiously and arms flailing like idiots.

Are they pretending to be monkeys or something?

[Three, two, one. Time is up.]

”Uh, Eun-Ho!” Ji-Eun tried to get his attention with a flustered look.

Oh... it’s me. They’re imitating my limp.

[All individuals outside the safe zone will be eliminated.]

Lee Eun-Ho looked down before he punched someone.

”Don’t let it get to you, Eun-Ho!” Ji-Eun said.

He remained silent.

“Manager Choi is just—”

When Lee Eun-Ho looked up again, he found Manager Choi and his friend flickering like broken light bulbs. The next moment, they vanished.

”Ji-Eun! Where did Manager Choi and his friend go?”

[The first trial has been completed. The restructuring process at MS Tower affected a total of 184 people. 1,796 survived.]

”Maybe... they got on the elevator?” Ji-Eun replied.

However, no one was inside. Whether by chance, only the people in the circle remained.

”Everyone who was waiting for the elevator has disappeared!”

”They must’ve just stepped away or something. They can’t be gone... right?”

Ji-Eun tremblingly asked as she looked around.

[Please choose your trial reward.]

A holographic window shimmered to life in front of Lee Eun-Ho.

[Lee Eun-Ho]

Affiliation: Sector 13, ROK-SEO-107 District, MS Tower

Rank: Restructuring Target

[Stats]

Stamina: 12

Strength: 11

Endurance: 31

Intelligence: 10

Wisdom: 15

Agility: 1

[Traits]

Locked

[Skills]

Locked

Lee Eun-Ho stared at the glowing display. He could recognize his name and age, but he found everything else strange, including his affiliation and stats.

”What the hell is this...?”

Below his name spun a 3D model of himself. It was wearing nothing but underwear, slowly turning front to back, as though he were some character in a video game.

”Is that... me?”

The face was not rendered in detail, but it was definitely him. The dark patch near his spine, right where the leg connects, was pitch black, just like something long dead.

Is this some kind of hyper-realistic hallucination? Or should I be relieved that even if I’ve gone mad, at least I’ve done it with impressive attention to detail?

[Please choose your trial reward.]

This had to be a coincidence, but out of everything, he chose the leg that was long gone, black and lifeless.