* * *
Maybe Director Choi’s real job is being a stalker.
“What brings you here…?”
“I sent you a message, but you didn’t read it or reply, so I thought you might be busy.”
Why are you saying such terrifying things with that casual smile?
If you checked the message, would you have just let it go?
No, you wouldn’t.
So why pretend otherwise?
“I’m sorry. I was going to reply, but I got caught up talking to Assistant Manager Kim… I mean, my colleague, and I forgot.”
“I see. That happens. You mean Assistant Manager Kim Hyunsoo, right? Wasn’t he hired at the same time as you?”
He nodded smoothly, still smiling.
He was acting all generous, but the firm resolve that he wouldn’t back down was unmistakable.
‘Was it just my imagination?’
‘No way.’
If he was going to let it slide, he wouldn’t have come all the way down here.
This was truly a deadlock.
In front of him stood Director Choi, and behind him was Director Min, who was just waiting for an opportunity to grab hold of Manager Shin.
And caught in between them—poor, unfortunate Gil Wookyung.
“Huh?”
Wait… What did he just say?
Did he just recite someone’s personal details?
“You seem close with Assistant Manager Kim Hyunsoo. Do you two often hang out after work? How about on weekends? Neither of you have partners? I thought Kim Hyunsoo was married—doesn’t he stay committed to his family?”
Dumbfounded, Wookyung stared up at Director Choi.
Some people are fine until they open their mouths.
When he’s quiet, he looks like he stepped out of a romance movie, but the moment he starts talking, it’s either like he’s firing off accusations, saying something completely random, or taking one sentence and stretching it into ten…
‘Does he even breathe?’
He talks so fast that even the listener starts worrying about oxygen intake.
But considering how calm he looks, maybe he just has incredible lung capacity.
“You must go hiking often.”
“Hiking? Well, occasionally.”
He knew it.
There’s no way someone could talk like that without training.
How does he speak for that long without slurring or running out of breath?
“More than that, I swim every day. I also play tennis sometimes. And I never skip the gym.”
“What the—? What kind of workout regimen…?”
Are you an addict?
The words got stuck between Wookyung’s front teeth.
His eyes shifted from left to right, then moved up and down.
He was doomed.
Why did his mouth never stay shut in front of Director Choi?
The one who needed to be careful with their words wasn’t Assistant Manager Kim—it was him.
Resignation.
Resignation was the only answer.
Calling a high-ranking executive—who was likely connected to the company’s owner—”crazy” was a death sentence.
Even if he wasn’t fired outright, he’d probably be transferred to some remote, dead-end department.
If not that, maybe he’d get stuck in one of the company’s most grueling positions, like a factory or retail store.
But he still had debts to pay.
This was why being a corporate worker was miserable.
How suffocating it was to be chained down by money.
“I just like staying active. What about you, Wookyung? Do you swim?”
“No.”
His drifting mind snapped back to reality.
“Tennis?”
“I avoid direct sunlight at all costs.”
“Gym…?”
“I hate sweating.”
A superior asking a subordinate to work out together? Horrifying.
Go on, try me.
He’d reject it every time.
“Then there’s no helping it. Let’s just go somewhere cool and have a meal.”
Wait, how did the conversation take that turn?
Could someone explain Director Choi’s reasoning?
Wookyung glared at the back of his head as the man hummed and walked away, completely unbothered.
“Oh, by the way, Wookyung, you’ll cover the bill.”
He flinched, thinking for a moment that his glare had been caught.
But as the meaning of the words sank in, he was once again rendered speechless.
“Why me? Is there some unspoken rule that subordinates have to treat their bosses?” he snapped without thinking.
“Because my only card is with you.”
“Ah…”
Right. Damn it. He lost.
He was the one holding Director Choi’s card.
With no other choice, he trudged after the man, who was waiting for him.
“Are you really okay with this?”
Director Choi asked, and Wookyung nodded quickly.
He placed a napkin in front of the director and neatly set down his chopsticks and spoon, hoping to cut off any further questions.
“Hmm… Wookyung, I’ve always thought this, but…”
“But what?”
They were off work.
It was a personal setting—why bother with formalities?
They were the same age, after all.
Wookyung jutted out his lips slightly and narrowed his eyes just a bit.
“You seem unexpectedly simple.”
What the hell? What was different? What did his face have to do with anything?
“I’m naturally down-to-earth,” he responded.
“I see. You have the kind of face that looks like you should be cutting into a steak at a fancy restaurant with a glass of wine.”
“I do have that rich protagonist vibe, don’t I?”
Wookyung blurted out something random.
“Hmm… No, I always thought you seemed more like a calm and refined young master. But sure, if you say so.”
…Why did that response feel off?
“Was that a compliment?”
“Of course.”
Then why did his elegantly curved smile look so annoying?
“Here’s three servings of tteokbokki, two servings of soondae, two kimbap rolls, and 5,000 won worth of fried snacks!”
Thud!
The dishes were placed on the table with practiced ease.
The owner’s hands were so fast that afterimages seemed to linger—a mark of a true professional.
“The fish cake soup is on the house for our regulars!”
The owner, voice full of energy, winked.
Wookyung gave him a thumbs-up with a respectful nod.
Normally, he’d do just one, but today, he raised both thumbs.
He appreciated the freebie and, more importantly, was grateful the owner had unknowingly rescued him from an awkward situation.
Pfft.
Wait.
Did he just hear a chuckle?
Wookyung whipped around, but Director Choi was simply looking at the food with a curious expression.
“You’ve never seen street food before?” he asked.
“No.”
Of course, it wasn’t like chaebols never ate street food.
Even Director Min, the original protagonist, had eaten it before—though that was only because Manager Shin dragged him along.
Despite his elite demeanor, Director Min was a total weakling when it came to spice.
The memory of him tearing up and sniffling over tteokbokki while Manager Shin laughed came to Wookyung’s mind.
“I’ve seen it in videos, but I’ve never eaten it myself,” Director Choi added.
“What? This? Are you telling me you made it to this age without ever trying tteokbokki?” Wookyung stared at him incredulously. Even in the U.S., there were plenty of places selling Korean street food. How did a grown man reach thirty without ever eating kimbap or tteokbokki? This was why chaebols were…
“Well, I just… didn’t really eat out much.”
“Ahh… You were a cafeteria kid,” Wookyung mused.
That would explain it.
Though, he wasn’t sure how any growing teenager could survive on school meals alone.
‘Wait, did American schools even have cafeterias?’
He tilted his head, then remembered Director Choi had graduated high school and college at lightning speed.
“No, I usually packed sandwiches,” Choi replied.
“You made them yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“So you’re good at cooking?”
“Not really. Just got better at it from living alone. What about you, Wookyung? Do you still live with your family?”
“I moved out when I started college. My brother’s in the U.S. anyway, so…”
Wookyung answered without thinking, then quickly hit the brakes.
‘Whoa… What the hell? This guy…’
How did he pry into personal lives so naturally?
Wookyung had almost ended up spilling his entire backstory.
“I see. So you live alone…” Director Choi said, his tone strangely satisfied. Why did he look so pleased? It was unsettling.
“By the way, Wookyung.”
“…Yes? What now? What else do you want to dig up?”
“Hmm? Haha. I’m not prying. Well… I do have a lot of things I’m curious about.”
Why did he keep saying things like that?!
“No curiosity allowed,” Wookyung declared.
“I really had no idea you were such an interesting person.”
“No background checks allowed either.”
He firmly crossed two chopsticks into an X to emphasize his point. He wasn’t going to spill anything more.
“Got it. More importantly, Assistant Manager Wookyung.”
Did Wookyung just see Director Choi’s lips twitch? Must’ve been his imagination.
“What?”
Seriously. If he’d known this was how things would go, he would’ve just tossed the card back and run.
Whatever happened after that wouldn’t be his problem—future Wookyung could deal with it.
Of course, even if he went back to that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to escape.
Such was the tragic fate of an office worker.
“How long are you going to keep calling me ‘Director Choi’ so formally?”
“Understood, Director.”
Well, it was just the two of them here.
No real need to keep adding his last name.
Wookyung could at least compromise on that much.
“Not that.”
Not that? Then what else was left to sort out?
“We’re off the clock now, so stop being so stiff and just call me by my name. Say ‘Saheon-ah’.”
“I refuse.”
Has he lost his mind?
Wookyung recoiled at the suggestion, but for some reason, Director Choi just kept smiling.
And yet, as if he hadn’t heard the rejection at all, Director Choi continued.
“Saheon would be fine too.”
Oh, for the love of—
No nonsense allowed either!
* * *
