Creator’s Favoritism

[‘Play Ground’ Broadcast Appearance Commemoration: Negative Commission Rate Event]

The flashy rainbow-colored post was from none other than the ‘Administrator.’ With a click, the post opened, starting off with a brazen greeting.

“This is PlayG owner. You all saw the news, right? Made it to all three major networks. Reporters, thanks for the publicity. ㅎ.ㅎ PlayG members increased by 10,000 just today.

As a token of appreciation, we’ve set the commission rate to negative for gates occurring this weekend only.

Play Ground will always strive for your enjoyment.”

The commission rate was the percentage that operators took from the total bet—essentially, the fee. A negative commission rate meant that the operators would return more than what users had bet.

Comments:

┗ PlayG owner! PlayG owner! PlayG owner!
┗ Breaking: Official Hunto’s downfall
┗ Whoa lolololol I’m happy, but can you run a business like this?
┗┗ Worrying about PlayG owner’s wallet is the most useless thing in the world lol Just enjoy

The comments were piling up rapidly, filled with enthusiasm and praise for the administrator. As I scanned the administrator’s post line by line, I couldn’t help but let out a mocking laugh.

“This bastard is…”

A complete con artist?

* * *

Friday, the next morning, The second-year students looked completely worn out as they gathered for breakfast. Dark circles and half-lidded eyes were the morning’s theme, with Jeong Changgyu muttering as if in constant complaint.

“So many damn monster corpses. Hard work, hard work, dog’s work… whew, really.”

Sitting beside him, Lee Nagyeol yawned loudly, tossing pieces of torn bread under the table to the dog at her feet.

“It would’ve been better if the seniors were here too.”

“Yeah, shouldn’t they be back before school starts?” Pyo Eonsu added quietly.

Jeong Changgyu, still grumbling, nodded in agreement. “Seems their training got extended. I heard they booked flights for next week?”

It was just then that our eyes met, and Jeong Changgyu’s crooked smirk appeared as he called out, “Hey, unlicensed.”

It didn’t take much to realize who he was referring to. Suppressing a sigh, I answered in the most polite tone I could muster. “Yes, senior.”

“Got some guts, huh?”

His smirk grew wider, like he’d just been told a joke he couldn’t quite believe. “First-years these days are all so famous~. They’re gonna eat the seniors alive, I swear.”

I bit back any response and focused on my meal instead. But before I could take another bite, a familiar message appeared before me in a rectangle panel, floating just above the cafeteria table:

「Tito decides to gradually incorporate ‘that event’ into the storyboard.」

I nearly choked on my rice. What event?

“Are you guys busy today? Anyone busy?” Jeong Changgyu’s tone dropped an octave, and everyone at the table froze. 

Lee Chan-yu, sitting quietly at the end of the row, raised her hand without expression.

“I applied for weekend leave this week.”

“Wow, such a filial daughter,” he whistled mockingly. “Do your filial duty in moderation and postpone your leave by a day.”

Weekend leave was a rare privilege in this all-boarding school, only granted twice a semester. Losing half of that precious time was practically criminal. Lee Chan-yu’s expression soured as if she’d been forced to chew on a lemon.

“What the—” She started, but Jeong Changgyu cut her off with a low growl that brooked no argument. “Got a problem?”

Sensing the tension, Pyo Eonsu intervened with a cautious smile. “Is it okay after we come back from field practice today?”

I had time, technically. But I’d planned to use it to look further into Play Ground and Tito’s damn narrative. Not to mention the growing anxiety over ‘that event.’ Surely, it wouldn’t be some bizarre hazing ritual, right?

“We’re going to have some bonding time outside school,” Pyo Eonsu reassured us, though his smile felt a little forced. “It’s just hanging out to get closer, so don’t worry too much.”

But Jeong Changgyu’s grin was anything but reassuring as he sat with arms crossed, watching us like prey. The contrast between his smile and Pyo Eonsu’s words was enough to make anyone uneasy.

I swallowed hard, desperate for a sliver of hope. “Are we all… going together?”

“Hm? No. If all the Haniyeong students went together, it’d draw too much attention. We’ll go in pairs, senior and junior.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun~,” Jeong Changgyu said, biting into an apple, his wicked grin stretching wider.

Next to me, Kang Chagyeong, who had the misfortune of being paired with Jeong Changgyu, turned ghostly pale.

* * *

“Ugh, this suffocating air.”

Jeong Changgyu seemed in great spirits as we left headquarters in the evening. To avoid being recognized, all three of us had baseball caps pulled low.

Dressed casually, Changgyu spread his arms wide like a prisoner savoring newfound freedom as soon as we cleared the massive main gate.

He was definitely enjoying himself.

I exchanged a glance with Kang Chagyeong.

‘Let’s just humor him as best we can.’

Fortunately, Chagyeong seemed to catch my drift and gave a determined nod.

At the city center arcade, Changgyu obliterated us in every game. He clearly had a knack for it, effortlessly demolishing his juniors. 

The racing game was especially brutal—he crushed me so thoroughly, his loud laughter echoed through the place, and I could only hope no one would recognize us online later.

To make matters worse, we had to pay every time we lost, and my wallet was already running dangerously low.

Finally, after completely draining our cash, Changgyu looked satisfied.

At least we didn’t have to pretend to enjoy ourselves—he was entertained enough.

Still energetic, Changgyu now stood at a claw machine, manipulating the crane. When a plush toy dropped out to the sound of a cheerful tune, I leaned in, whispering cautiously.

“Senior, I think it’s a knockoff.”

The teddy bear had thick eyebrows, a vague imitation of a famous brand.

“It’s definitely a knockoff, right?”

Changgyu turned to Chagyeong for confirmation. With a serious expression, Chagyeong nodded.

“I’ll give it to Chagyeong. Lucky you.”

“Ugh…”

Receiving the oddly shaped knockoff keychain, Chagyeong let out a weak groan. Noticing this, Changgyu’s brow twitched, clearly displeased.

“Where else can you find a senior this generous? I’m one of the best when it comes to treating juniors right.”

He snorted haughtily, then slid my last 1,000 won into the machine.

Despite how intimidating he’d seemed during breakfast, Changgyu was making an effort to play the role of a good senior. The evening took us through typical high-schooler hangouts, and to my surprise, it was actually kind of fun.

No one paid attention to us as we sat tucked into the corner of a shabby chicken galbi restaurant—even though Chagyeong, the youngest S-class hunter in Korea, was with us.

The auntie taking our order was more concerned about whether we were ordering alcohol than recognizing who we were.

I’d planned to spend the weekend digging into ‘Play Ground,’ but as I reached for some side dishes, I couldn’t help but feel the day had slipped through my fingers.

―Where did this speculation come from, that the site operator could be a hunter?

―It stems from the testimony of the operator of a 20-billion-won illegal gambling site arrested last month. Of course, he’s also a fraudster, embezzling 4 billion a week. We can’t trust the testimony fully, but…

A current affairs program was discussing the illegal Hunto scandal, with experts chiming in.

“Why are so many of these guys making a mess of things and disgracing hunters?”

Changgyu clicked his tongue, surprisingly making a sensible point. I rolled my eyes, thinking it over before leaning in closer, lowering my voice.

“Senior Changgyu.”

“What?”

“Do you really think that could be the work of an active hunter?”

He glanced at the news segment still playing.

“Depending on their abilities… yeah, it’s possible. I mean, even in sports, you see players fixing matches sometimes.”

He had a point. If the operator behind PlayG was an active hunter, it wasn’t out of the question that they could manipulate gate exterminations using their powers. But if that kind of strength was used for gate clearing, the annual death toll would be halved. My frown deepened.

“Huh. If people found out someone was tampering with gates, civilians would lose it.”

“Exactly. It disgraces hunters.”

-Bang!

A loud sizzle rang out as the cut of meat hit the iron grill, perfectly timed with Jeong Changgyu’s words.

“What the hell, man? Stop winking at me like a creep.”

I hadn’t even realized it, but my left eye had twitched reflexively in the bright light, making it seem like I winked. Flustered, I tried to explain myself.

“I didn’t mean to! It was just—”

“Then what’s the deal? Short on magnesium or something? Move, the chicken galbi’s here.”

Changgyu scowled, more interested in the steaming plate of food than in my excuse.

As the iron plate, piled high with raw chicken and cabbage, landed on the grill, something unexpected happened—a faintly glowing narration box flickered into view.

「Tito pauses, pondering whether it’s right to involve high school students in illegal gambling. He considers revising the storyline entirely but ultimately decides to cut the Hunto episode altogether.」

No way. Tito’s indecision was about to ruin my entire plan. If he backed out, I had to take matters into my own hands.

Changgyu lazily waved the tongs in front of the sizzling plate. 

“Hey, who’s good at grilling? First come, first served.”

Without a word, Chagyeong picked up the tongs, sensing that I wasn’t planning to move.

“Senior, lend me your ear for a second.”

Standing up, I leaned over. Changgyu squinted suspiciously as I neared, clearly not trusting whatever I was about to say.

I cupped my hand around his ear and whispered quickly.

“Maeng Sun-woo, you—”

His eyes widened as he looked up at me, utterly shocked.

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Chagyeong, who had been awkwardly handling the tongs and scissors, turned around, startled by Changgyu’s outburst. A glowing rectangle of light surrounded the three of us, suddenly intensifying.

「“Or maybe I can use this,” Tito mutters, tapping his forehead with the back of his tablet pen.」