Chapter 203. Joint Operation (2)
“Eun-Ho?” Ji-Eun asked.
“Oh, yes.”
“You look like you’re in a good mood. Did you hear some good news?”
“Haha, not at all,” Eun-Ho replied lightly.
Over Ji-Eun’s shoulder, the rest of the team could be seen. They had arranged a long sofa into an L-shape and removed the table in the middle, pulling lounge chairs together to make space. A few people had even sat down directly on the carpeted floor.
“Are you feeling uncomfortable at all?” Eun-Ho asked.
“Not at all!” the cleaning lady answered cheerfully. “This carpet’s better than most blankets!”
Since the underground fortress was still in disarray, they had decided to hold the meeting in the company housing for the time being.
“Um... Eun-Ho,” Ji-Eun said hesitantly. “We couldn’t move any of the furniture out. It looks like there’s some kind of restriction on it.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Eun-Ho replied.
“What? But I thought this place would be taken away soon...”
Given that the furniture in the underground fortress had been damaged, they had planned to bring whatever they could from here. Assuming the company housing would be transferred along with the Employee of the Year title, he might as well salvage the furniture.
If I really looked into it, I could probably find a way to take it out, Eun-Ho thought.
However, there was no need for that anymore.
“I think we can just keep using it,” Eun-Ho said.
“It’s comfy and nice!”
“Yeah, isn’t this basically better than a meeting room?”
Since everyone seemed to have gathered, Eun-Ho figured he might as well start the Labor-Management Cooperation Team’s very first meeting. “All right, then. Let’s begin the meeting.”
First thing first.
Eun-Ho nodded toward Ji-Eun, and she seemed to tap something in midair.
Fwoosh—
Then, a large screen appeared in front of everyone’s eyes. It was a rectangular display with the proportions of a horizontally placed A4 sheet. Against a white background, neat black lettering read: Labor-Management Cooperation Team Regular Meeting.
“Is that a PowerPoing?!”
“What is that?”
Eun-Ho had prepared a PowerPoing.
Lee Ye-Ji laughed. “Pfft, wow, you really went all out, Team Leader.”
“If we’re going to do it, we should do it properly,” Eun-Ho replied.
Lee Ye-Ji let out a baffled chuckle and made a strange face, muttering, “It’s been a while since I last saw one.”
Truthfully, it had started as a half-joking conversation with Ji-Eun. Since the system allowed video editing, Eun-Ho had wondered if they could share screens like a PowerPoing. He just hadn’t expected it to actually exist. The system did have everything.
“Next slide,” Eun-Ho said.
Swoosh—
At Ji-Eun’s touch, the presentation moved to the second slide. It was an agenda page listing the topics for today’s discussion.
“There are two items on the agenda today,” Eun-Ho said. “First is setting team goals. Second is how to collect consent forms for establishing a Labor-Management Council.”
He waited a moment for everyone to read through it. Then, reactions began popping up around the room.
“Goals?”
“Can’t we just set anything?”
About half the team, including the high school girls, tilted their heads at the word goals.
“Yeah, we do need to set goals first.”
“But won’t they squeeze performance numbers out of this too?”
“What performance do we even have?”
“Uh, good point?”
Those with prior work experience nodded right away.
“Let me explain it simply,” Eun-Ho said. “Next slide.”
Swoosh—
[Core Objectives(Total: 0%)]
1. ____________ (0%)
2. ____________ (0%)
3. ____________ (0%)
“If we set three core objectives, those become a project,” Eun-Ho explained.
Everyone’s faces twisted as if they had bitten into something foul. “A project?!”
However, that reaction made sense.
[Administrator privileges invoked. Activating ‘Project.’]
[Project Name: Selection.]
They had been sick of hearing about projects ever since the restructuring began.
“Whether the project succeeds, and how much each of you contributes, will determine the rewards,” Eun-Ho continued.
“Oh! Then does that mean trials get assigned based on the project?”
“I imagine so,” Eun-Ho said. “Each project supposedly comes with guide trials.”
“Guide trials?”
“Yes. That’s why we can’t set random goals. They have to be things we’ll actually do.”
The team members’ expressions grew serious. They had thought they were finally free from life-and-death missions, only to hear that it wasn’t over yet.
They must feel complicated, Eun-Ho thought.
Eun-Ho wondered if the mood had sunk too low and what he should do about it. However, perhaps, he had underestimated them.
“So that means we get to set our own team goals?”
“That’s huge, isn’t it? They’re basically telling us to decide for ourselves.”
“Right? Normally we’d be reporting on goals all month, then reporting to someone above that, and so on... It used to be a mess.”
Whether they were genuinely optimistic or just trying to lighten the mood, the team members began tossing out comments with playful smiles.
Lee Ye-Ji shuddered theatrically, then shook her head with a wry smile. “This discussion brings back old memories!”
“But this isn’t a situation where we can relax,” Eun-Ho said.
“Huh? Why not?” Ye-Ji asked.
“For these goals to pass, they need approval from the supervising division chief,” Eun-Ho explained.
“Uh, but we don’t have a division chief, do we?”
Ye-Ji was right. After all, this was a newly created department that Eun-Ho had practically cobbled together himself.
“Then who approves it?” someone asked.
“Someone above that,” Eun-Ho replied. “The director.”
“W-what?!”
In other words, they were a department directly under the Personnel Bureau director.
“D-do you really think someone that high up would bother paying attention to us?”
In the past, Eun-Ho would have thought the same. A director personally overseeing every tiny new team would never have enough hours in the day. However, judging by how things were unfolding now, that assumption no longer held.
“He will,” Eun-Ho said firmly.
More than that, the director would interfere however he could.
“He doesn’t like our team as it is,” Eun-Ho added.
“Ugh, I guess from the company’s perspective, we’re a thorn in their side,” Ye-Ji muttered, clicking her tongue. “Still, we haven’t even done anything yet. That’s so unfair...”
At that, Bo-Ra, who had been listening nearby, chimed in. “Oppa! Then what if the director makes us change the goals to something ridiculous?”
“We’ll have to defend them as much as possible,” Eun-Ho replied.
“But isn’t that dangerous? Are the goals really that important?”
“They are more than important because if we fail, there’ll be penalties at the team level,” said Eun-Ho, laying out the expected penalties for failing to meet their goals.
First, the team leader’s evaluation would be absolute garbage. Since the team leader’s assessment affected everyone beneath him, the members would also suffer, losing out on incentives and bonuses.
Second, their salary increase rate would drop. Honestly, they’d be lucky if it stopped there. With a company this awful, their pay could even be cut—which he decided not to mention.
Third and the last point was downsizing. They could be forced to reduce the number of team members. From Eun-Ho’s perspective as team leader, this was the most critical consequence of all. He could be made to decide who would be cut.
“Wow, that’s horrifying,” someone murmured.
After the rough explanation, the younger team members all reacted the same way.
“But that’s just how companies are,” Eun-Ho said.
It had been the same in the old world, too, and it wasn’t all bitterness.
“On the flip side, if we do achieve our goals, it’ll be the opposite,” Eun-Ho said brightly.
“The opposite?”
First, the team leader’s evaluation would be top-tier. Second, their pay would jump significantly. Third, they’d be allowed to bring in more people.
“And most importantly, we might be able to bring people in through staffing expansion.”
“Who are you talking about?”
Eun-Ho was referring to those who were still left above ground, those who were struggling to survive in a world reduced to ashes. “The temporary contract workers.”
“... I probably won’t be able to come back.”
“I hope we can meet again up there.”
Those people would naturally have to pay a price themselves, such as promotion slots. It would also require negotiation with the Personnel Bureau. Still, the possibility existed
“The Personnel Bureau Regulations state that team member selection is at the team leader’s discretion, so it’s not completely impossible,” Eun-Ho added.
A small ripple of excitement spread through the team. There was a sense of purpose beyond mere survival, and the hope of restoring some semblance of the society they once knew. Those thoughts became small stones, sending ripples across the still lake of survivors.
[Core Objectives(Total: 0%)]
1. ____________ (0%)
2. ____________ (0%)
3. ____________ (0%)
The three empty slots reminded Eun-Ho of an unscratched lottery ticket. That was when the team members raised their hands one after another.
“Mister! What about this one?”
“Me too! I just thought of a great idea!”
***
The goals they agreed upon could be broadly summarized into three points: establish a labor-management council, use it as a foundation to form a labor union, and ultimately stand on equal footing with the company and fight back. To achieve that, they would not shy away from strikes or even combat, if it ever came to that.
But it’s still too early to announce all of that outright, Eun-Ho thought.
They had only just broken ground. If the company panicked and poured concrete over everything before it even began, it would be disastrous.
“On the surface, it needs to look like we’re acting in the company’s best interests,” Eun-Ho said.
It was something he had realized after watching Soeju. Once one secured a position so indispensable, one’s freedom of movement widened dramatically.
If you want to stab someone with a knife, you have to get close first.
“Because our footing is still too weak right now,” Eun-Ho added.
“I agree!” Ye-Ji said immediately. “There’s no point if we get shut down the moment we’re created.”
The team members, Ye-Ji included, nodded along.
Bo-Ra, who had been thinking quietly, rubbed her chin. “Before we show all our cards, I think we should make as many allies as possible.”
Min Yeo-Jin, wearing an unusually serious expression, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, yeah. Stuff like this is basically a battle of public opinion.”
“Public opinion?” someone echoed.
“We need to really hammer in the idea that this is necessary, that it’s good for everyone! That way, if the company tries to forcibly disband us, people will be willing to take collective action.”
She’s not wrong...
Apparently, Eun-Ho wasn’t the only one surprised by the rambunctious high school girl’s unexpected side.
Even the cleaning lady clapped in admiration. “Oh my, do they teach things like that in schools these days? Students sure are smart!”
Yeo-Jin scratched her cheek awkwardly and laughed. “Hehe, no they don’t teach that at school.”
“Huh? Then where’d you learn it?”
“You could say, in the wild?”
The cleaning lady blinked in confusion. “The wild? What?”
Yeo-Jin, apparently uninterested in explaining further, continued on as if nothing had happened. “So, how about making labor union formation one of the goals? We’re already working toward it anyway.”
“That’s a good idea,” Eun-Ho said. “Anyone else have suggestions?”
After further discussion, they reached a conclusion.
“Then let’s openly announce only the establishment of the labor-management council,” Eun-Ho said.
The core focus they would all pour their efforts into, the council’s creation, was locked in.
“As for the rest, we’ll just set goals that fill out the numbers.”
The remaining objectives were chosen to be suitably vague, the kind that could placate appearances without revealing too much.
[Core Objectives(Total: 100%)]
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%)
That was the final decision.
Ji-Eun laughed as she stared at the list. “If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think these goals were set by someone who’s insanely loyal to the company.”
Hmm... Someone insanely loyal to the company? That’s just as I intended, Eun-Ho thought.
“If worst comes to worst, couldn’t improving the work environment just mean replacing desks in some old office?” Ji-Eun asked.
“If it really comes to that, then yes,” Eun-Ho replied.
Normally, setting goals involved endless reports to the team leader, reports to higher-ups, and piles of data meant to persuade superiors. This time, it had wrapped up quickly.
Though we still have to persuade the director.
He decided to think about that part later.
“By the way, what does VoE stand for again?” asked one of the high school girls.
“It's the Voice of the Employee. It’s about gathering feedback including complaints, suggestions and that sort of thing.”
“Oh, then don’t we just have to listen? That sounds easy.”
“Haha... If it stays like this, it should be fine.”
As Eun-Ho explained things to the curious high school girls, he completed the system registration.
[Would you like to register these objectives?]
“Yes,” Eun-Ho replied.
[Registration has been completed!]
[If there is an input error, changes may be made within one week. Please note that registered objectives may be modified or rejected by a higher-level approver.]
With that, their immediate direction was more or less set.
“So, what do we start with first?” someone asked.
“Assuming these get approved as-is, the very first thing we need to do is to find employees who are dissatisfied with the company,” Eun-Ho replied.
They had to search for people who would be willing to oppose the company, even if it meant relying on collective strength rather than acting alone. They had to absolutely find those people.
“But where do we find them?”
“Well, first—” Eun-Ho was just about to explain when a new message window popped up.
Ding!
[Project registration has been completed.]
[Generating appropriate team trials.]
[Processing...]
“Team trials?”
“They show up that fast?”
It really feels like the system only works efficiently at times like this. Or maybe it’s just my imagination...