* * *
“…The diary. I found the diary.”
“Lying again?”
“That’s all—”
Before Junhee could finish, Taeryu’s lips crashed down on his, cutting him off entirely.
It suddenly dawned on Junhee that whether he had given the right answer or the wrong one, Taeryu had intended to do this from the start.
His kiss was rough, consuming Junhee completely, yet at times unexpectedly gentle, brushing the inside of Junhee’s cheek or pulling firmly at his lips.
He seemed as if he was frantic, unsure of what he was searching for, or how to satisfy the turmoil inside him.
Junhee’s own confusion only deepened in response to Taeryu’s.
“Geonju.”
That unfamiliar name seemed to roll around in Junhee’s mouth.
Taeryu’s other name, and the shackle of his past.
“Geonju, are you… Yoon Geonju from Cheongwon Elementary?”
Yes, the manager of the Daejeon branch had once said something to Taeryu…
As the memory flitted through Junhee’s mind, his hair was yanked backward.
“Ah…!”
“You’re losing focus again, Junhee.”
Taeryu growled as he bit Junhee’s lower lip with ferocity.
“Wait, don’t push like that—!”
Junhee stumbled backward until the back of his thighs hit the desk.
With a swift motion, his body was lifted and placed atop the desk.
Taeryu’s dark eyes gleamed like a wild animal’s, fixed on Junhee.
Before Junhee could regain his composure, Taeryu’s tongue invaded his mouth again, rough and insistent.
As his sharp thoughts dissolved, his heightened senses filled the void.
Taeryu alternated between biting hard enough to leave marks and handling him as delicately as a newborn.
Only when Junhee’s lips began to swell did the grip on his hair finally loosen, and Taeryu’s lips withdrew.
He rubbed his wet lips against Junhee’s cheek, whispering in a low voice.
“You know I adore you, Junhee.”
“…”
“I’m letting you off because I do.”
His tongue trailed up Junhee’s neck like a snake, leaving Junhee gasping for breath.
As Taeryu pressed a kiss to his cheek, a twisted smile played on his lips as he whispered.
“If you’re going to hide something, make sure you do it well. Never get caught.”
It felt as though someone was monitoring Junhee’s every move—knowing exactly where he was and what he was doing.
It was a suffocating feeling, like he might hear the notification sound “ding!” at any moment, as if he were on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
But then, how did that navigation app activate on Junhee’s phone in the first place?
“…Was it hacking?”
Even voice phishing starts by extracting all the internal data from a phone and then using it to commit fraud.
However, Junhee had never clicked on any suspicious links, nor had it been long since he replaced his phone.
That left only one possibility.
“The SIM card I was using.”
The only explanation was that a virus had been planted on it.
But he was sure—this had never happened with his previous phone.
“Except for that one brief moment… when I inserted the SIM into the gray burner phone…”
As that thought crossed Junhee’s mind, a chill ran down his spine.
His fingertips tingled against the phone he was holding.
“Right. I remember now. When I inserted the SIM into that phone, there was definitely some strange message that popped up.”
[Downloading USIM data…]
[Data cloning…]
[Transmitting data…]
The words had flashed by in an instant.
If they were connected to this situation now…
“Damn it… Why are you doing this to me, you bastard?”
“Pardon? Me?”
The middle-aged man sitting beside Junhee, startled by his sudden outburst, asked in confusion.
Completely lost in his own world, Junhee glared at his phone and muttered darkly to himself.
“Why the hell are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you? Damn it… You even helped yourself to my drinks…”
The middle-aged man, now thoroughly convinced that Junhee was crazy, quietly slipped away.
Whether he stayed or left, Junhee continued cursing under his breath until he reached his destination.
After venting a storm of profanity, Junhee felt a bit calmer.
Strangely, the fact that his seat had been empty halfway through the ride made things more pleasant.
“Sigh… All right. Time to work.”
It was fortunate that being at the office helped keep distracting thoughts at bay better than staying at home alone.
As soon as Junhee stepped into the lobby, the first thing he noticed was a crowd of employees.
Judging by how they clung to the bulletin board like barnacles, it seemed some important notice had been posted.
He didn’t feel like pushing through to check it out.
“I’ll find out soon enough anyway.”
Without sparing the notice a glance, Junhee got on the elevator.
Perhaps because everyone else was clustered at the board, the elevator only had one other employee besides him.
After a brief nod of acknowledgment, Junhee was about to exit when—
“Congratulations.”
Before he could ask what the congratulations were for, the elevator doors closed.
Perplexed, Junhee stared at the closed metal doors for a moment before turning and heading to the office.
Even before stepping inside, he could sense the bustle within.
As expected, several teams were already gathered in clusters, deep in conversation.
They were so engrossed that they didn’t even notice Junhee enter.
For some reason, the air felt tense.
“…Good morning.”
Junhee greeted them quietly and moved toward his desk.
But before he could settle in, voices called out to him from all directions.
“Assistant Manager Yoo!”
“Assistant Manager…”
“Is it true, Assistant Manager Yoo?”
Colleagues, including Jiyeon and the junior staff, suddenly swarmed around him.
“Uh… what?”
Wide-eyed, Junhee blinked at them in confusion.
As if she had been waiting for this moment, Jiyeon burst out, “You saw the bulletin downstairs, right?”
“…No, I didn’t. There were too many people, so I just passed by.”
Could it really have something to do with him?
“Assistant Manager Yoo, we’re really hurt, you know. You didn’t even give us a heads-up…”
Jiyeon’s words were echoed by the junior staff, who looked equally dejected.
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“The transfer. You could’ve at least told us beforehand…”
“…Transfer?”
Out of nowhere?
It felt as if someone had doused him with cold water, leaving him dazed.
As he pieced things together, the CEO’s recent words flashed through his mind.
‘I’m planning to set up a new task force. I’d like you to join as the deputy team leader. What do you think?’
Of course.
That had to be it.
There was no other explanation for this sudden transfer.
Seeing Junhee’s bewildered expression, Jiyeon asked, “Wait… you didn’t know either, did you?”
“When I was called in last week after that incident with you, Jiyeon, the CEO did mention the task force.”
“Last week? That was Friday afternoon, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. He insisted he needed my help, so I tentatively agreed, but I didn’t expect it to happen this quickly…”
He had assumed that any transfer wouldn’t occur until the end of the quarter, at the very least.
“Wow… So even you didn’t know. See? I told you, he wouldn’t keep something like this from us on purpose.”
“Assistant Manager Yoo, you said you didn’t look at the bulletin, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it didn’t mention a task force. It just said, ‘New Business Development Team Established,’ and listed you as the deputy team leader. And it starts… tomorrow.”
“A business development team? Not a task force?”
And tomorrow?
Everything was happening so quickly, it felt like the ground was shifting beneath his feet.
Like a small boat adrift in a storm, Junhee felt powerless, struggling just to stay upright.
“Assistant Manager Yoo.”
He turned at the sound of a familiar voice. His team leader had just entered the office and was walking toward him.
The team leader clapped Junhee on the shoulder and said, “We need to have a farewell party before you go.”
“That’s right! We absolutely must!”
“But we’re not ready to let you go yet, Assistant Manager Yoo…”
“Ugh, it’s so unfair. Being this talented can be a curse. Still, it’s great to see you moving up. You’re our team’s biggest success story!”
Junhee had thought he was ready to leave anytime, for any reason.
But now that it was actually happening, he felt strangely hollow.
He’d never really done anything to form attachments here.
He’d never had the time or energy for it.
In fact, he’d gone out of his way not to.
And yet…
* * *
