Surviving Restructuring

Despite it being broad daylight, the room was steeped in darkness. Thick, pitch-black smoke filled the air, rendering both the windows and the lights useless in this lightless space.

“So, the objectives have been entered?”

“Yes, sir.”

[Labor-Management Cooperation Team]

1. Improving the work environment to boost performance(50%)

2. Establishing a labor-management council for smoother communication(30%)

3. Collecting VoE to improve employee satisfaction(20%)

The only light came from the faint glow of the secretary’s projected screen. She concealed her trembling hands in the frigid air. The light vaguely illuminated a solitary throne rising above everything else.

“They’re more ordinary than I expected,” the director said.

“Yes, Director. There doesn’t seem to be any major issue,” the secretary replied.

“Hmm.” A heavy, low sound escaped him, like a trap snapping shut. “What are they planning to do?”

The secretary was well aware that she couldn’t irritate him, lest her head rolled across that dark carpet. She parted her dry lips and said, “Haven’t we seen this with every intake of new hires? We got complaints about poor working conditions, or demands for compensation for all their suffering. There are always people like that.”

“Ah, yes,” the director continued, his brow furrowing, “we have. Shameless vermin, throwing tantrums without a shred of decency.”

Wretches who dared to crawl upward without appreciating the mercy that spared their lives, the director thought.

Just thinking about them made disgust crawl up his spine. It was the exact same feeling he got whenever he thought of Lee Eun-Ho.

“They’ll come to their senses soon enough,” the secretary said carefully. “They’re just rookies without any backing or reputation to speak of.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“You know this as well, sir.”

“What is it you’re trying to say?”

“By the time they truly understand how the company works, they’ll already have become one of us.”

“Yes. That’s probably true,” the director said.

Though, he felt a little different this time. This one felt somewhat off.

“The Labor-Management Cooperation Team. Lee Eun-Ho. The Labor-Management Cooperation Team. Lee Eun-Ho...”

The director’s chilling mutter drifted through the room like acrid smog. As if to smother the unease rising within him, he exhaled even more darkness into the air.

***

[Processing...]

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the floating screen.

“But why isn’t it changing?”

“Maybe it’s just taking more time?”

The display they had expected to update immediately remained frozen.

Is there some kind of condition? Eun-Ho thought.

If that was the case, they might as well focus on what they could do right now.

“Then shall we talk about the next topic while we wait?” Eun-Ho suggested.

“Sounds good!”

He nodded and sent a signal to Ji-Eun.

Swoosh—

The slide changed.

“Next is how we’ll collect consent forms for establishing the council. First, let me share the current progress.”

[Consent Progress]

- Number of signatures: 81

- Progress: 0%

- Reward: Establishment of a public council regarding ‘Improvement of Employees’ Working Environment’

- Sub-trials:

1. Obtain 100 signatures(Incomplete)

2. Obtain 1,000 signatures(Incomplete)

3. Obtain 10,000 signatures(Incomplete)

...

The group tilted their heads in confusion, surprised because they hadn’t done anything yet.

“Huh? We already have eighty-one people?”

“What? Who started already?”

Of course, there was no way he could go into detail about Soeju or the story of Guk-ryangGuk Ryang here.

“I made a few connections,” Eun-Ho said.

“Huh? Young Man, you made connections already?” the cleaning lady asked.

“Yes. I persuaded a few people at yesterday’s team leader event.”

He thought that was close enough to the truth.

The team members, including the Swear-Master and the cleaning lady, nodded in agreement.

“Just in one day?! Damn it, if we’d had a few more days, we could’ve dragged them straight onto our team.”

“I knew it! You just look trustworthy, Young Man!”

Just then, someone muttered, “... But something feels off.”

“What is?”

“We’ve got eighty-one people already, but the progress is still at zero percent.”

Only then did a few of them realize the problem.

“Oh, you’re right.”

“How many signatures do we actually need? If eighty-one was even one percent, that’d mean ten thousand total...” As expected, Yoon Sol-Ah didn’t waste her time and started calculating like a true highschooler. Her face turned pale as she looked up. “M-Mister! They’re not rounding down, right? They’re not going to ask for, like, a hundred thousand people, are they?”

“It’s safest to assume at least a hundred thousand,” Eun-Ho replied.

“No way...”

Some looked stunned, others worried, and a few outright disgusted by the sheer size of the number.

“But still. Let’s do it,” Eun-Ho said, trying to encourage them.

“Still, it’s not like a hundred thousand is a small, manageable number.”

“But it’s not an impossible number either,” Eun-Ho replied.

Sol-Ah blinked her big eyes, clearly sensing that he was up to something. “Huh?”

“I’ve got a few ideas in mind. I’ll explain once I’ve organized them.”

“What? That’s not fair!”

It wasn’t time to say more yet, so he held back.

“Since today’s the first day, let’s start with some market research,” Eun-Ho said.

“Market research?” Sol-Ah asked.

“Do we even have a market?”

Every business started by studying the market it planned to penetrate. In their case, the company itself and its employees. Therefore, grasping the internal situation was their priority.

“And the easiest way to do that is through the intranet, the company network.”

“The company network?”

It was basic marketing. In the old world, it would’ve been the internet. During his investigation into the personnel bureau director’s corruption, he’d found more useful material than expected.

“We should look for people dissatisfied with the company. If we can get signatures, that’s ideal. If not, we can still gather information to shape public opinion.”

“Oh! That’s a great idea!”

“Yeah, starting with online digging is kind of the basics. High return for low cost.”

It was a covert groundwork, meant to take on a behemoth known as the company, but it probably didn’t suit the tension and gravity of the situation.

“Exactly. So, is anyone up for a bit of Gooogling?”

***

[You have connected to the company network.]

[Welcome! Please check the bulletin board!]

The intranet consisted of six sections in total, with nothing particularly unusual.

- Announcements

- Schedule

- Archive

- Hall of Fame

- Free Board

- Anonymous Board

“Oh dear, what’s all this supposed to be?” said the cleaning lady.

“Ma’am! Announcements are posted by the company anyway, so let’s focus on the free board and the anonymous board.”

“Free what? Anony—what?”

“The free board and the anonymous board.”

“Oh my, students really are smart these days!”

While older folks like the cleaning lady and the security guard struggled to navigate the interface, the younger ones started browsing without much trouble.

Thus, reports started coming in one after another.

“Here! I found a complaint post on the anonymous board. It says the pay is way too low.”

“I found one too! They say the rewards keep getting worse, Hyungnim!” Jae-Hyuk shouted.

“Oh, this one says the building’s so old it feels like it might collapse. That counts as a complaint, right?”

“There’s a shit ton of these,” said Swear-Master.

Sure enough, once they started looking, there was no end to them.

“But they’re all on the anonymous board,” Ji-Eun said.

“Yeah, you’re right, Noonim,” Jae-Hyuk replied.

It was a shame, but inevitable. In this place, people could only bring themselves to speak once they were hidden behind anonymity.

“Huh? Unnie, what’s wrong with someone being anonymous? Isn’t it better the more we find?”

“Well, it’ll be hard to get signatures.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re anonymous?”

As Min Yeo-Jin and Ji-Eun bantered back and forth like a comedy routine, Swear-Master gasped. “Oh, this bastard really put some effort into it.”

“What is it?”

“This one here. It’s called Employee A’s Survival Log. Looks like they take submissions about shitty bosses or bullshit trials and post them.”

“Employee A’s Survival Log?”

“Yeah. It’s been going on for over a year now. Holy shit, there are more than a hundred entries in the series.”

Eyes widening, Eun-Ho quickly scanned the post.

───────────────

[Chit-chat] Employee A’s Survival Log #112

“Be grateful you even have work.”

Ever heard that phrase? What about “If you don’t do it when you’re told, you won’t be able to later even if you want to.”

Yeah. It’s all bullshit. If grunt work were so great, they’d do it themselves. Why dump it on someone else?

───────────────

Written with a lively tone and polished prose, the post read almost like a well-crafted essay. Relatable episodes were spaced just right, making it easy to read straight through.

───────────────

Every time we fight monsters, they use us as meat shields. That’s just vile. They say it’s fine if your arms or legs get broken or chopped off.

“Just heal it later,” they say, but we all know that’s not true.

If it doesn’t reattach properly, you suffer every time it rains. Once, my organs spilled out, and they just shoved things back in so my intestines stuck to my muscles. I took a short break to recover, and they scolded me for being “overdramatic.”

They even asked if I was going to take responsibility for missing my performance numbers by “faking illness,” and if they should just write my name down as the reason for failing the target.

───────────────

Everything written here was painfully relatable.

“Holy shit, isn’t that boss completely insane?” Swear-Master said.

“Yeah, seems like it,” someone else agreed.

This company was even crazier than expected.

───────────────

#EmployeeA #SurvivalLog #BossAbuse

#SubmissionsTo #NONAME-505

#IrregularUpdates

───────────────

Judging by the hashtags listing a submission channel, the operator seemed to polish up people’s accounts before posting them.

“So you access that channel anonymously?” Eun-Ho asked.

“Seems like it.”

[Chit-chat] Employee A’s Survival Log #1

[Chit-chat] Employee A’s Survival Log #2

[Chit-chat] Employee A’s Survival Log #3

...

[Chit-chat] Employee A’s Survival Log #112

Out of all the submissions they had received, they had carefully selected and posted over a hundred entries. That was impressive.

“Should we camp out on this channel too?” someone suggested.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Eun-Ho replied.

People with grievances would naturally gather there on their own. With a bit of luck, they could even find some who would be willing to sign their petition.

Ding!

Just as that thought crossed Eun-Ho’s mind, a cheerful notification sounded, and a message popped up before everyone’s eyes.

[Project Establishment of a Labor-Management Council has been activated!]

[The first trial has begun.]

“Huh?”

“The project has started!”

“This is the guide trial, right? What kind of trial is it?”

Cutting through the team’s curiosity and tension alike, a blue window appeared.

[Team Trial, Find Employee A, has been activated!]

“Employee A?”

“The owner of those posts on the anonymous board from earlier?!”

The contents of the trial were completely unexpected.

[Trial Name - Identify the anonymous board’s big mouth, Employee A.]

“They want us to uncover the identity of an anonymous board celebrity?”

“That’s insane. They’ll be locked down tight. How are we supposed to find them?”

[Rewards: two Points, a small amount of fame, and the trust of employees.]

[Condition: failure if the company finds them first.]

“Wait, there are rewards?”

“Fame and employees’ trust?”

“Honestly, that’s exactly what we need right now.”

Interpreted another way, they could recruit an underground influencer with real clout as an ally.

“Basically, we have to track down an anonymous board celebrity using nothing but a nickname,” Eun-Ho muttered.

“That’s what it sounds like!”

Alright. That much is clear, Eun-Ho thought.

“But Yeo-Jin,” Eun-Ho said.

“Yes, Team Leader!”

“Why are you suddenly doing a warm-up?”

Min Yeo-Jin suddenly sprang to her feet and rolled her shoulders, grinning broadly. “Hehe. I think it’s finally my time to shine.”

Suspicious of the display, Eun-Ho turned to Sol-Ah.

“Do you know why she’s acting like that?”

Had she unlocked some hidden ability? There hadn’t been any obvious trigger, but perhaps something had slipped past him.

“Hehe, no they don’t teach that at school.”

“Huh? Then where’d you learn it?”

“You could say, in the wild?”

That line had been suspicious too. However, unlike Eun-Ho, who was on edge, Sol-Ah looked completely unfazed, as if this were nothing new.

“She’s a veteran in idol fandom communities,” Sol-Ah said.

“What?”

Is that what we need right now?