That Beast of a Man
That beast of a man.
He appeared in the store all at once, sudden and overwhelming.
“Ha! Shit. Still as shabby as ever. This dump of a shop still hasn’t gone under?”
“Wow! Gangho oppa! Welcome!”
“Get lost, you bitch. You still haven’t been fired either?”
“Ah, what the hell? We haven’t seen each other in forever and this is how you greet me?”
The man who showed up during the morning briefing—Gangho—set the whole place murmuring. And I found it strangely hard to tear my eyes from that intense presence. He looked well over 180 centimeters, with a solid, compact build; the hard, knotted muscles of his upper body pushed out against his clothes in clear, brutal relief.
He’d shaved the sides of his head like some foreign soccer player, leaving only the top, and the black leather mustang jacket he wore only deepened the classic-movie biker vibe. Then there were the tattoos—the decisive detail. The Irezumi visible between his sleeves and along his collarbone made me flinch.
What the hell is this guy? That face belonged among gangsters, not at a supermarket. The very idea that someone like him worked here was absurd. I glanced at the manager standing next to me… and found something unexpected. He looked a little tense.
It felt like a stronger male had just walked in, and the usual posturing, mediocre male was quietly sliding backward. What was this? Still, he couldn’t just abandon his role as manager, so he approached the man with visible reluctance.
“Gangho, welcome back. You been well?”
“Ah, yes. Manager, you look the same as always. Nothing much going on, right?”
“Nothing much, my ass. Just the usual hell of not being able to find people.”
“Keh-keh-keh. Exactly the same. You say you’re struggling, so why can’t you drop the old habits, huh?”
“What?”
“Word’s already out. You hired some random nobody and made a mess of it.”
At that moment his gaze swung toward me. I flinched and dropped my head to escape it. What? Is the “random nobody” supposed to be me? As if to prove the point, Jeong-a—who had been clinging to the man’s arm without the slightest concern for anyone watching—spoke up.
“Oppa’s gonna have to flip the table a bit. Tighten the discipline again.”
“Puhah! What are you on about, you crazy bitch? Hey, mind your own damn business.”
“Aww, why are you being like that too, oppa? You’re supposed to take my side.”
Even as he scolded her in that rough voice, Gangho never pushed Jeong-a away. Weird. Were those two always like that? Watching them, the manager fidgeted and finally spoke.
“Let’s deal with that later. Right now, the people…”
“Ah, yes. Got it. I’ll round up the old crew. That good enough? Alright, what are you all staring at? Get to work. Back to your stations. We’ve got opening prep.”
As if he ranked higher than the manager himself, Gangho clapped his hands and barked the order. No one argued. The staff scattered. The male employees seemed to feel a strange fear around him, while the female staff grinned and watched him with open affection.
This place really is an animal kingdom. That bastard just showed up and seized the whole pack like a male lion. Why the hell do they keep someone like him on? The answer came a little later, in the office.
“You’re saying he has the local part-timer network locked down?”
“Yeah. Hyomin, you’ve done office work, so you know—the hourly rate here is pretty tight, which makes hiring hard. Especially anyone with experience. And the ones we do get get poached by competing stores all the time. So if you want bodies, you need someone who has the network of the neighborhood freeloaders… and that someone is Gangho.”
I felt my brain short-circuit. I was living the labor shortage myself. In a store full of heavy lifting, the male staff ratio was already far lower than the female. And most of the people who showed up for interviews were full-time housewives or women just killing time between part-time gigs.
Finding male labor really wasn’t easy. So the custom was to hire the local boss of the kids who strutted around the neighborhood with their necks out, just to get access to warm bodies. Wow… what the hell is this? Even with the circumstances, they have to hire someone like him?
Even from a distance the rough atmosphere rolling off him felt threatening. His face was pure delinquent. And more than anything, it was chilling—the way Jeong-a clung to his arm and glared at me like she was saying, You’re dead now. The bad feeling was almost too much.
The manager seemed to share the same headache; he covered his forehead with one hand and let out a long sigh.
“Huu… Still, no choice. Holiday season’s coming. If we want the sales spike, short-term manpower is life or death. We need that bastard. I had to beg and scrape just to pull him from another store.”
“If that’s how it is, then fine… but is it really okay? He won’t cause trouble?”
“Thankfully he does the work clean. He does whatever he wants, but he doesn’t leave holes in the actual job.”
“That’s a relief, then. Still, Manager, you have it rough.”
So he actually gets the work done? Then maybe I won’t have to clash with him. Relief washed through me, and I tossed the manager a half-hearted word of encouragement. He reacted to it.
“Thanks. These days you’re the only one who thinks about me, Hyomin.”
“Huh? Hehehe. Oh, come on. You’re the one always looking out for me. It’s only natural.”
“No. Lately I feel like I can finally breathe because of you. Come sit here a second.”
I felt a flicker of confusion. Sit… where? The spare chair I always dragged over in the office was gone today, so I just stood there, lost. When he told me to sit, I glanced around awkwardly until he spoke again.
“Ah, the spare chair’s leg broke. I stuck it in the warehouse to fix. Just perch on the armrest for now.”
“Huh? Here?”
I hesitated. It was narrow, but with my frame I could probably manage it. But that would mean… pressing right up against the manager. The request felt strangely sticky, yet refusing his goodwill was hard.
Thinking about it, plenty of bosses quietly hate having subordinates stand over them and look down. I didn’t like it, but maybe in this case going along was the right move. So I awkwardly perched my hips on the armrest of his chair. The posture was weird.
I had no choice but to angle my legs outward, half turning my back, which meant I inevitably had to twist toward him. I ended up demurely pressing my knees together and resting my hands politely on them. Something about it felt… awkward. Having half my back and ass pointed that way also felt rude. And then—
“Ah—! Um, Manager.”
“Just lean on me a second. My head’s a mess for all kinds of reasons. It’s throbbing.”
I barely swallowed the little whimper that almost escaped. A tiny sound still slipped out. The manager had stretched an arm around my waist and laid his hand over both of mine where they rested together. Naturally his face pressed against my back—no, more precisely, right above my hips.
It felt strange. Calling it just a face against my back didn’t cover the odd heat and the uneven breath I could feel, or the way the hand covering mine held on lightly but firmly, as if it refused to let go. What… was I supposed to do with this? It was awkward as hell.
In my whole life I’d never had a man wrap my waist like this, hold my hands, and rest his face against my body. So even as discomfort rose, a creeping warmth and ticklish sensation spread from the captured hands and the contact along my back. What is this? Why am I suddenly feeling this way?
The sensation that somehow offset the discomfort was bizarre. And on another level, something like pity stirred. Watching the manager suffer because of the staff, and knowing he was also paying the price for forcing through the hire of useless me… it made my chest ache.
So if this kind of contact could give him even a little comfort, maybe that wasn’t so bad. Yeah. When people are hurting, they say anyone at all coming over and giving a hug makes the heart feel lighter. That was probably all this was.
I quieted myself, left my hand where he held it, and twisted my upper body toward him a little more so he could lean easier, arching my waist back. He flinched, then turned his head and buried his whole face into my back as if nesting there. Ah… I’m so skinny the hollow of my erector muscles must be uncomfortable.
Yet he seemed satisfied; his breathing eased, then grew rough again, repeating the cycle. Ah… but how long am I supposed to stay like this? I still have to go out and stock shelves. Looking at the office clock, anxiety prickled. If I was late, Jeong-a would raise hell again.
And then she’d probably run to that man I’d just met—the one who somehow already reeked of roughness—and put me in a corner. That somehow felt… anticipatory— Wait, what am I thinking right now? I am not looking forward to that! I refuse that situation absolutely.
Getting tangled up with that man was a major disaster to be avoided at all costs. I repeated the thought over and over in my head. Then an unexpected interruption suddenly ended the skinship.
“Ah! Manager. Just dropping off the signed contracts and headi—eh? What the hell?”
“Uh? Uhhh. Gangho. Y-yeah, just put them in the document tray there.”
I shot up from the armrest in shock. The manager yanked his face from my back and stammered at Gangho, who had barged into the office. Gangho still looked me over with those beast-like eyes, then sniffed the air like he was catching a scent before he spoke.
“Well… everyone’s overflowing with coworker love. Looks nice. Heating’s working great too—air’s nice and hot.”
“I… I’ll just go out and start stocking now.”
I said it to the manager and fled the office like I was escaping. As I brushed past Gangho, he spoke to me in a low voice.
“Jeong-a wasn’t bullshitting. You’re no ordinary ajumma. Well, let’s get along.”
I didn’t answer. I felt like if I did, I’d get caught. Clutching the front of my uniform apron, I ran from that place like prey fleeing a predator.