That much straight into her account—labeled as "Orphanage Charity Fund."
Her mind spun. Add the beds Suho had ordered, the children’s desks, the rubber flooring, and the playground equipment—easily over $800,000 in a single day.
Her dream for years had been to scrape together enough to give the orphanage kids a normal life: warm beds, safe food, and a place to play. She worked part-time jobs, skipped meals, and lived like a monk to save. And today... with a single flick of her boss’s pen, everything was solved.
It should have been joy. And it was, partly. But underneath, she felt an odd emptiness. If the orphanage no longer needs me... then what do I live for?
Her roommate Jo Hee noticed the strange expression. "What’s wrong, Xiaorin?"
Rin bit her lip. "Hee, what... what if the orphanage suddenly doesn’t need my help anymore?"
Jo Hee blinked. "That’s... a good thing?" She sat down, serious. "You’ve been grinding yourself down for years. Part-time jobs, cheap clothes, no fun. If the orphanage is secure now, you can finally breathe. Buy yourself something pretty, eat real food, maybe even—dare I say—fall in love."
Rin’s lips twitched.
He pressed on. "Listen. With your ten-thousand-dollar salary now, you can still spoil the kids once in a while. Bring gifts, visit them. But you don’t have to sacrifice yourself anymore."
Rin stayed silent.
Jo Hee sighed. "But honestly? I wouldn’t count on it lasting. We’ve begged companies before—if they’re generous, they give ten thousand, maybe twenty. If not, they don’t even let us past the gate. Real charity from entrepreneurs? Almost extinct."
"...I found one," Rin said quietly. She lifted her eyes, voice steady. "I met one."
Girls’ Dormitory, Chicago University.
Jo Hee’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Wait—an actual boss is funding the orphanage? Who?!"
Cho Rin bit her lip, then answered softly, "Kim Suho."
The gossip fire ignited instantly in Hee’s eyes. She leaned forward like a hawk spotting prey. "Your company’s CEO? Spill. Every detail. Right now."
Rin sighed and recounted everything—from Suho showing up at the orphanage last Sunday to his outrageous habit of throwing money at problems like a billionaire with an allergy to savings accounts.
When she finished, Jo Hee smacked the bed frame in disbelief. "So it’s true. Mr. Kim is a saint! Let me see how much he gave!" She snatched Rin’s phone before Rin could protest.
Her jaw nearly hit the floor. "Half a million?!" She scrolled down, whispering the digits out loud. "541,680... What the hell? Why such a specific number? Is that like some kind of boss code? Does it spell Suho’s name in calculator digits or something?"
Rin shook her head. "I don’t know. Probably just coincidence."
She waved her hand. "Who cares? The point is—you’re free. No more ramen diet. Quit that miserable part-time job. Sleep in for once." She grinned from ear to ear. "Honestly, I’m jealous. You’ve got the coolest boss on Earth."
But Rin’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "That’s just it. I’ve been living for the orphanage all these years. Suddenly it’s safe. The kids are safe. And now... I don’t know what to do. I don’t have a goal anymore."
She crossed her arms, smirking. "Don’t give me that. Then why were you staying up till two a.m. reading those boring assistant-management PDFs?"
Rin’s cheeks warmed. "Because... Mr. Kim pays me a crazy salary. I wanted to improve, to be worthy of it. To work harder."
"Ahhh, so now the orphanage is safe, but you still want to be his perfect assistant, hm?" Hee’s grin turned mischievous. She leaned in close, voice dropping theatrically. "Or maybe... you want to live out a drama plot."
"What drama plot?" Rin asked cautiously.
She clapped her hands together. "The grateful young lady can’t repay the noble young master’s kindness... so she pledges herself to him!"
"Jo Hee!" Rin shrieked, her face exploding red. In a flash, she tackled her roommate onto the mattress. The two wrestled on the bed, laughing and squealing like middle-schoolers.
The other girls rolled their eyes. "Again? These two..."
Horny Princess Interactive – Staff Studio.
Meanwhile, Suho was making his own kind of drama.
"Mr. Kim, please, come in." Fang Chang all but bowed as he led Suho into the office. This was the special office reserved for the boss, untouched since Suho was always running things from the T-shirt Factory.
Suho glanced around. "Where’s Director Jin Wu?"
"Ah, Director Jin Wu is in the staff studio, sir. I’ll call him—"
"No need." Suho waved lazily. "Let’s go there directly."
They entered the staff studio together, and immediately Suho spotted Jin Wu sitting beside a programmer, pointing at the screen with a pen like he was lecturing a kindergartener.
Suho nearly laughed out loud. Beautiful. The greatest taboo in management: knowing nothing but still acting like you know everything.
Exactly what he wanted from Jin Wu.
Jin Wu looked up, startled. "Mr. Kim, you’re here!" He scrambled to his feet and hurried over.
Suho patted his shoulder with a smile that made the man’s heart glow. "Good work. Keep it up."
Jin Wu nearly burst into tears. The boss recognized me! I’m saved! His spine straightened like a soldier’s, face glowing with renewed vigor.
Suho, inwardly: Yes, yes. Keep being the perfect clueless supervisor. I’ll handle the real work.
He strode to the center of the studio. Fang clapped his hands. "Everyone, attention! The boss has an announcement!"
The entire room stilled. Dozens of employees stared at him curiously.
Suho clasped his hands behind his back like a general. "I’m here today to announce work adjustments and new benefits."
Whispers rippled instantly. Ever since team-building, employees had heard rumors of how good things were at the T-shirt Factory—double weekends, meal stipends, shopping cards. They envied them like crazy.
Now, those rumors might be reality.
Suho raised his voice. "First—working hours. Eight to five remains. But the single-day-off system ends. From now on, you’ll have double weekends, like the T-shirt Factory."
A wave of gasps.
"Second—overtime. I hate it. It steals your lives and kills your passion. From now on, overtime is banned. Any that happened since I took over? Count it. Finance will pay it out at double rate. Saturdays and Sundays included."
The studio erupted in cheers and applause. Someone shouted, "Boss is awesome!" Another yelled, "Down with overtime!"
Suho held up a hand and smirked. Yes, cheer louder. Spend my money faster. Papa System wants to see red ink.
"Third—insurance. Before, you had the bare minimum, no housing fund. Now? Full five insurances plus housing fund. Covered." The most update n0vels are published on novel·fiɾe·net
More applause.
"Fourth—meals. No canteen here, I know. Until that changes, everyone gets a daily meal subsidy."
"And finally, shopping cards. Same as the factory: $500 per month, per person. Outstanding performers may also receive monthly salary increases."
The room went insane. Clapping, whistling, and even a couple of "Long live the boss!" cries. Suho let it wash over him like sunlight.
Inside, he was laughing. Yes, yes, praise me. Just remember—all of this is funded by the magic piggy bank called ’System Funds.’ If only you knew your generous boss is actually running a deficit lottery every month.