He Said Nothing
He said nothing.
"Haa… I'm so worn out."
I let out a long breath and slid down against the wall until I was sitting on the floor. Food waste residue clung sticky to the spot where I'd landed, but I no longer cared about things like that. If I did, I would never survive this disposal yard with my mind intact. So I had stopped caring about the stench, too.
And my state of mind only made those thoughts worse. Somehow I felt no different from the rotting refuse stuck everywhere around me. My body had been violated into a wreck. And right after that, I had been humiliated until my spirit nearly collapsed. After going through all of it… the only thought left was how filthy I felt.
I used to see women on the news, sobbing as if the world had ended while they gave interviews about sexual violence or gaslighting, and I would wonder why they carried on like that—as if it were someone else's problem. But the moment it became mine, I finally understood. It really was… no different from the world collapsing.
I had been butchered like dead meat under coercive violence. Held hostage by the suppressant, I had denied my own identity and submitted. After that, the thought that maybe I didn't need to keep living at all rose up, and all that filled me was the sense that nothing else that happened could possibly matter anymore.
So… this reeking place actually put me at ease. It felt like a space that truly suited me—like it resembled my own body. And then, suddenly, a thought cut across my mind.
"Ah—today's suppressant! I almost forgot."
I hurried to dig the pill bottle out of the bag I'd brought, shook out a tablet, and swallowed it dry. It was… the only profit I had walked away with after what happened. The sole salvation that could restrain the rampaging femininity that Queen Bee Syndrome—that damned condition—kept making stronger by the day.
Thanks to it I had fallen to the level of a collared female test subject for Lee Seonwu, but at least I could still breathe a sigh of relief. This was… more precious than my life in my current situation. Strange thoughts kept rising unbidden, and my body felt anything but normal.
So the price I paid had been excessive, but every day I still took it, thinking of it as the only lifeline keeping my sanity from snapping, and only then could I find a little peace. I finally exhaled, staggered to my feet, and got up. It was mealtime.
"Ugh… there she comes. God, the smell."
"Move! Move!"
The female staff murmured loud enough to be heard on purpose and parted like the sea. Fine. I was grateful, if anything. I had zero desire to socialize with anyone. So on the way to the employee cafeteria, I was sincerely thankful that no one spoke to me.
A few days had passed since that night. But nothing about my daily life had changed. Days so identical it was almost shocking simply continued. As if the damage done to me had nothing to do with how the world turned, everyday life went on exactly as before.
I was still the soft sandbag everyone here could openly slight and torment. Jeong-a still bullied me as blatantly as if she were my direct superior or my personal schoolyard thug. And the work was still backbreaking labor rolling around in a filthy, stinking sewer of a place.
None of it mattered. Compared to what I had already been through, those things now felt so trivial I could almost call them light. There was one thing, though, that hadn't changed and that I simply could not stand. And that was… his attitude.
"Delivery truck's here. Everyone get on it. Hey! Hey! Newbies, put on the cold-weather gear first. We're loading straight into the freezers."
"Yes, hyung-nim!"
The staff racing toward the loading dock moved in perfect order under his directions. Even while giving orders he was driving the forklift himself, unloading goods, hands and feet flying. Objectively speaking, he was working with terrifying diligence. The problem was…
He never once looked my way.
It was absurd. Honestly, at first I had been terrified. After what he had done, I hadn't been sure I could handle whatever reaction he might show me. Just seeing him made me picture nothing but the beast that had sadistically devoured me that night—the taut muscles inked with tattoos, the rough male scent, and the smell of cigarettes…
The memory of that vile malice—of crawling to him myself and taking his weapon into my mouth—kept surfacing until my legs shook and I felt like I might wet myself. My underwear actually dampened a little. But… as if laughing at my fear, he showed me no interest at all.
Of course, even before, he had never openly spoken to me on the floor. Whenever he wanted to pass along a message or torment me, it had always been through his proxy, Jeong-a. The tyrant of this place had never even bothered looking my way, as if someone like me wasn't worth touching himself.
So maybe nothing had changed. But… that couldn't be right. You did what you did. You… ignored me when I refused, when I tried to explain, when I cried out, and you still went through with it. So how can you just ignore me like this?
"How… how can you do that?"
I muttered to myself, trembling over my tray. Just a moment ago, as the crowd of workers streamed past the cafeteria, he had glanced inside. And… he had definitely seen me. Then he turned his head as if it were nothing and simply walked on.
That fact made me so angry I lost all appetite. I left most of the food, dumped it into the scrap bin like I was taking it out on the meal, and went outside. But for the rest of my break there was nowhere my body or mind could rest. So going back to the waste disposal area where I worked was the right call. And yet…
"Huh? Why… am I here?"
When I came back to myself, I felt only bewilderment. The place I had reached while walking in a daze was… the ventilation shaft. Why here? There was no longer any point in secretly finding things out. I started to leave at once, but somehow my feet refused to move.
The hideout beyond the vent—the place where he always loitered when he had free time, fooling around with the women he treated as his—seemed to hold me there for reasons I couldn't name. So… I sat down beside it. There was no reason left to peep, but I simply wanted to rest there.
I was catching my breath when, suddenly, I heard someone enter the supply room beyond the vent. Wait—I had to run. The voices coming in were… his and Jeong-a's. In a panic I clamped a hand over my mouth and held my breath. Their conversation drifted through.
"Ah, fuck off. I'm not doing it, you bitch."
"Aww, oppa, why have you been so prickly lately? And you're on a celibacy streak, huh? Not sticking it in anyone."
"Hey, you filthy bitch. I told you to keep it reasonable at work. You not leaving?"
"Aing… but we haven't done it in so long, just for old times' sake, a little—ah! Why'd you hit me? Ah! Fuck, I'll leave, okay? No need to throw a fit."
I heard Jeong-a shout and storm out. What was this atmosphere? Why was he acting so unlike himself? Wasn't this the place where he, like the pride male of a safari lion troop, freely screwed the female staff as a matter of course? The unexpected reaction left me puzzled. And then—
"Huu… Did you forget what I said? It's completely obvious you're hiding there."
"……!!!"
I almost screamed from pure shock. Ah—right. I had forgotten.
But why was it that you, lady, always used to sneak peeks while I was screwing other women?
That was what he had said that night. Everything else that night had been so traumatic I had pushed it out of my mind. But… it still didn't make sense. What kind of smell was I giving off? One the female staff couldn't even notice? What was that supposed to mean? The only thing coming off me right now was the stink of rotting food waste.
Then I realized this was no time for stupid thoughts. Panicking, I started to scramble away on the floor—when his voice continued.
"If you don't want to… you don't have to answer. And… if you want to stay there, stay. I'm just going to smoke one cigarette and go back to work."
"……"
I still couldn't answer that, either. But I stopped the obvious attempt to flee. Instead I killed every sound, leaned my body against the wall, and listened. And as if he could see exactly where I was leaning, there came a solid thud from the other side of the wall—him settling back against it too.
I flinched in surprise, but still felt no urge to run. And he… said nothing more. Beyond the wall I heard only the quiet sounds of him taking out a cigarette, lighting it, and smoking. Beyond that… he said not a single word.
We stood there with nothing but a wall between us, backs against each other. Without speaking. It was a strange feeling. The knowledge that he was leaning on the far side of that cold wall somehow made it feel like we were together. And yet… I felt neither fear nor any desire to flee.
Strangely, the silence he kept for me felt comfortable—and I was grateful for it.
About five minutes must have passed. True to his word, he finished the cigarette; I heard the ash being tapped off, and just as he had come, he left the supply room without a single word. No excuses. No temper. No shamelessness. Only quiet remained.
And strangely… that quiet felt overwhelming. Even the negative emotions that had been boiling toward him seemed to settle with it. And on another level, this thought rose as well.
He… spoke to me.
It was the first thing he had said to me in days. And for some reason, it made me feel as if I had won some push-and-pull between us. That fact… left me oddly buoyant, enough that even in my wretched state I almost deluded myself into thinking I had a little energy again.
And then a few more days went by. Nothing about my days had changed. The rotten stench of the waste only seemed worse, and the work was just as brutal. Maybe it was a side effect after taking the suppressant—my body felt strangely drained, and more than once I spilled waste bags and made a mess of things.
So I felt like the worst version of myself, got chewed out several times, and had to stay late cleaning—another exhausting day. But somehow? After that encounter with him at the ventilation shaft, my mental state felt a little better. So… I could at least endure it.
And the one mercy was that once today's work was done, my day off would be back. Right. I'd rest at home a little. Then maybe I'd feel better. Thinking that, I pushed myself and worked. And then, again, it crossed my mind.
"Ah! Today's suppressant. I almost forget it every time while I'm working."
I took the pill bottle from my bag, about to take one. But that day, an unexpected interloper barged in.
"Ha! Lady, what the hell do you think you're doing? You're not processing waste—you're just sitting here stuffing your face by yourself?!"
"Huh? Ah… th-that's…"
Jeong-a stormed into the waste disposal area. Her sudden appearance left me no choice but to panic. Ever since she'd dumped me here, she had barely ever come in—probably because of the smell. So what was the occasion today? And for some reason Jeong-a was seething with anger. Why? Had I done something wrong again?
And then… a scrap of gossip I'd overheard while moving around the store suddenly surfaced.
"I hear Jeong-a's position under Gangho's been looking shaky lately?"
"Heh heh heh. Tell me about it. She was playing queen out in the open, but these days her face is a wreck."
"But isn't Gangho a little weird too? He's been way too celibate lately. What's going on?"
Parts of the conversation still didn't add up, but one thing was certain. Jeong-a was being strangely cold-shouldered by Gangho. It lined up with what I had witnessed last time. What was this? Had they fought? I couldn't know the exact reason.
But… even I could guess that the foul mood she was in right now wasn't unrelated to that. The problem was that I was the one on the receiving end of it.
"What are you doing? You don't even do the work you're told, just sit around slacking off like this."
"Ah, I was about to get right back to it."
"Get back to what?! While you're secretly stuffing this crap down your throat! What even is this?"
"Ah! Give that back!"
I went cold with horror—because Jeong-a had snatched the suppressant bottle right out of my hand. It was more precious than my life. So I lunged at her. But… that only seemed to make her angrier. With a look of pure disbelief she twisted her face and flung the bottle away.
"No wonder the work's a mess when you're popping this garbage and slacking off—huh? Aah!"
In that instant I did something even I hadn't expected. The second I saw the bottle rolling across the floor, rage flooded me and I shoved Jeong-a hard. Then I scrambled to snatch the bottle up and gather the spilled pills. I couldn't lose even one… not a single one. And then—
"Aah!"
The hand reaching for the last one and the pill itself were crushed under a stomp at the same time. I screamed. But it wasn't the pain in my hand so much as the shock of watching the pill pulverized under her shoe and vanish. No. Without that I would— And then Jeong-a seized my hair in a rough fist.
"Fuck… I was already pissed, and now you go and slap me in the face. You're dead today."
I was so furious I tried to fight back too, but securing the suppressant came first, so I could only thrash uselessly—when a voice suddenly cut in.
"Hey! Stop it!"
At the sudden shout, both Jeong-a and I turned our heads. There stood Gangho, staring at us with a face full of rage.
