Semantic Error - Chapter 8.14

“Why do you make games?”

He suddenly asked such a question and then thought it had come too late. It was a question he should have raised from the beginning.

Why was Chu Sangwoo trying to make a game? A guy who didn’t understand anything related to content. He was only good at developing, and he seemed to have no sense of graphics or sound. Besides, he was a guy whose character made it hard to collaborate with others, and the game was a product where he needed help from a designer or a planner, which he didn’t enjoy.

“Because I like it.”

The sudden answer shocked Jaeyoung a little. Since he had a strong impression of him being a weirdo, he thought he wouldn’t have hobbies or anything he liked.

“There’s a game company I want to join. When I was 15, I played a game from that company for the first time, and it was so much fun that I pulled an all-nighter for the first time. My dream changed then. I want to make games like that with my own hands, so I’m studying English and games outside of school.”

Sangwoo saw Jaeyoung’s expression and said: “Ah, you didn’t ask, did you?” and looked at his screen again. Jaeyoung smiled while shaking his head.

“No. You seemed so cool just now for some reason. So what was that game?”

“Starcraft 1.”

Never play Starcraft 1 with Chu Sangwoo in a PC room. Jaeyoung made a mental note.

“What was your dream before you wanted to become a game developer?”

“A forklift driver.”

“…”

He learned several things today. Chu Sangwoo wasn’t just an android who was obsessed with homework, but he actually enjoyed music and had dreams. It was the first time he saw Sangwoo’s eyes filled with ambition.

“I’m planning on joining the company in the second half of next year after capitalizing on the success of Veggie Venturer.”

“You told me about building a portfolio. It was ultimately your portfolio you were talking about, wasn’t it?”

“Isn’t it a win-win situation?”

He was already treating the game the two of them had just begun to make on a crazy, tight schedule, as a success. Despite that, why was he looking at it with confidence rather than madness? Chu Sangwoo’s dream: it wouldn’t be easy, but Jaeyoung didn’t think it would be impossible either. Taking pride in your work is commendable and pushes you forward to get something done.

“Hey.”

“Yes.”

“Can I pat your head? In a minute?”

“…”

Sangwoo didn’t reply for a long time. It felt strange that he wasn’t immediately refused. Jaeyoung waited long enough, but there was no response.

“And don’t hate it.”

“I don’t hate it that much. As long as you tell me in advance,” Sangwoo said while scratching his neck.

It was a lot softer in comparison to the first time. Jaeyoung suppressed his desire to reach out and remove the black cap right away.

“Do you need to prepare your mind for it?”

“I do. I hate anything I’m not prepared for.”

“What if your grandmother suddenly calls you while you’re in class and tells you that she’s outside your place cause she misses you?”

“I don’t look at my phone during class. And both my grandmothers have passed away.”

“Sorry. Then, let’s change the example… What if you cooked ramyun, but there’s no flavoring powder?”

“That wouldn’t happen, since I would’ve started by checking if all the ingredients of the recipe were there.”

“It seems like you’re good at making ramyun, then.”

“How could one not be able to make ramyun? Anyone can do it as long as they have two hands and enough intelligence to read a recipe.”

“No. There are still so many people that make it tasteless… Ah, it’s time.”

Jaeyoung reached out his hand without hesitation and stroked Sangwoo’s hat. The act that had been accomplished through additional steps was just as satisfying. He wanted them to put their arms around each other’s shoulders, but he could only do this today.

“I’ll support you, so that you can reach your dreams.”

The words that seemed like whispers didn’t come out smoothly. Perhaps it was because there was too much sincerity in them, but even his voice cracked a little.

“I became motivated to do a good job.”

Sangwoo sat still and blinked as if hadn’t heard a word. Two seconds later, he shook his head to remove Jaeyoung’s hand.

“That’s enough.”

Sangwoo suddenly closed his laptop and quickly packed his stuff. It had been three minutes since Jaeyoung had only been looking at his profile. He didn’t think he’d show him the front of his face. Looking at the clock, it was still only 9:30 p.m.

‘Yesterday, he left at 10p.m. though…’