The greatest talent genius of all time

Prologue

A tall man, standing at 185 cm, with sharp facial features and pale skin contrasting against his black mourning suit, bowed his head deeply, ignoring the curious glances around him. He held the phone tightly to his ear.

— “Grandfather’s funeral? Right now?”

A chilly early spring breeze blew past, making Song Jun hunch his shoulders even more.

— “Ha… You should’ve told me in advance. Is this how you handle things?”

Hearing the deep sigh from the other end of the call, Song Jun flinched instinctively. His fingers trembled slightly as he slowly opened his mouth.

“I told you over the phone two days ago…”

No doubt about it—this guy had been drinking, barely listening, and now completely forgot.

— “Ha… Seriously. You suck at editing, but you sure have plenty of excuses. If I don’t remember, then you never told me.”

Even though he had done nothing wrong, a sharp pain stabbed at his chest.

— “Do you even realize how much work you have? One day is more than enough for a grandfather’s funeral. It’s not like it’s your parents.”

”…….”

— “And look, you already wasted a whole day. Get back to work today. Do you even know how bad the last video flopped? You think I pull money out of thin air to pay you?”

When Song Jun didn’t respond, the voice on the other end grew louder, as if dumping all its frustration on him.

Four years as an editor. A gaming YouTube channel with over 700,000 subscribers.

At Kim’s Game Factory, he was nothing more than a cheap editing slave.

— “I took in a talentless nobody like you and gave you a job, and this is how you repay me?”

Song Jun turned his head and looked toward the entrance of the funeral hall.

— “If you get it, start editing right now. A funeral should give you plenty of free time, right?”

His grandfather, the only one who had truly cared for him, was gone.

And yet, this person couldn’t even ask if he was okay—let alone show up.

“I Quit.”

Something deep inside Song Jun boiled over, rising to his head like an explosion. His grip tightened around his phone, fingers trembling with frustration.

— “W-What?!”

The voice on the other end was filled with shock.

Taking a deep breath, Song Jun spoke clearly, word by word.

“I said, I quit. I can’t do this anymore. Just send me the money you owe me—by the end of this week.”

Why had he been holding on so desperately to this job?

The moment he said it out loud, a bitter laugh escaped him. That suffocating weight on his chest suddenly melted away.

He had taken the long way around to the easiest solution. Maybe he had trapped himself in the illusion that this was his only option.

But if he really tried, he could find other ways to make a living.

— “You think you can just quit? What about the damages for delaying our uploads? You won’t get a dime!”

Damages? He hadn’t even been paid properly for the work he had already done. Every time a video didn’t perform well, they found an excuse to cut his pay.

“Ha…”

— “Are you laughing, you little—”

A small chuckle slipped out.

“What a joke. Just pay me what you owe me before I report you.”

Yeah. There was no reason to feel small. He had done nothing wrong.

A while later, after cursing out Kim Geun-taek, the funeral was over.

But Song Jun couldn’t sleep. His thoughts kept him awake.

“Do you really think you’d find work anywhere else without me?”

“I took in a talentless nobody like you, and this is how you repay me?”

Those words stabbed deep into his heart.

Because the truth was… he had no talent.

Talent? What a Joke.

Sports? He was the kind of guy people pushed onto each other like a burden.

Games? As long as the opponent didn’t start cursing out his parents, it was a good match.

Music? He couldn’t even play a recorder properly for a school assignment.

“Ugh… Damn talent. Why does it even matter so much?”

That’s how he ended up in video editing.

At least with that, he could just sit in a chair for six, maybe ten hours, pounding away at his keyboard until a video came together.

Some people told him he wasn’t untalented—just average.

But to Song Jun, being average was just another way of saying having no talent at all.

Frustrated, he shot up from his bed and slapped both cheeks hard.

“No! Why am I doubting myself?! If even that idiot can make it on YouTube, so can I! I’ll be successful! I will!”

With renewed determination, he sat in front of his computer.

And at that exact moment—

“Registered mail!”

A voice called from outside.

“Registered mail? Wait a second!”

Jumping up, Song Jun rushed to the door.

“Please sign here,” the delivery guy said.

Still confused, Song Jun scribbled his signature and took the small box.

Then, he froze.

“Song… Seok-du?”

That was his grandfather’s name.

Frowning, he tore open the package.

It had only been a week since the funeral. Why was he suddenly getting a package from him?

Inside, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap, was an old glasses case, worn with age.

“Sunglasses?”

Unwrapping it cautiously, he flipped open the case.

Inside was a pair of aviator sunglasses, the kind straight out of an old Top Gun movie.

Grandfather’s Final Gift

With trembling hands, Song Jun picked up the sunglasses.

Inside the case, a small note was taped to the top.

[If life hits rock bottom, just start from there. I hope my grandson lives happily.

— From your grandfather, to Song Jun.]

His chest tightened. His grandfather’s last gift.

And those words… they fit his situation too perfectly.

“Grandpa…”

The sunglasses were spotless, completely different from the old, worn-out case. They looked brand new, without a single scratch—like they had just been bought from a store.

After hesitating for a moment, Song Jun put them on.

“Ack! Ow!”

A sharp pain, like a needle stabbing into his temples, made him rip the sunglasses off in shock.

“Ugh…”

Suppressing the throbbing pain in his head, he slowly opened his eyes.

And then—

[Would you like to connect to the Talent Sharing Network?]

“What… the hell is this?”