The Lifetime Manager Contract
Of course, the contract would be riddled with poison clauses. That was a given. …………… This manager proposal was the best card I could play. It satisfied Kang Haneul's possessive desires while securing me the minimal foothold I needed. At least, that's how I saw it. There was no better way.
But Kang Haneul… didn't respond. Still. Was she about to refuse? Or did she have something else in mind?
"…Haneul-ah?"
I called out cautiously, and she finally spoke.
"So… I can see you every day?"
"Huh?"
"Can I see you every day?"
This time, there was no playfulness in her voice.
"Right? Since you're my manager. We'd obviously have to be together every day—"
"In the mornings too?"
"Yeah."
"At lunch too?"
"Probably."
"At dinner too?"
"If it's during your work hours… we'd be together, yeah?"
Kang Haneul's lips curved upward.
"So… you won't run away?"
"How could I? Sticking by your side is my job."
"No cutting off contact?"
"You're my client. Cutting contact wouldn't make any sense."
"No deleting SNS?"
"No reason to."
"For real?"
"For real."
"Really, really?"
What the hell is with this woman?
A grown woman—no, a woman a head taller than me, with breasts even bigger than that head of hers—acting like a kindergartener.
But the emotions packed into those questions came through loud and clear. Kang Haneul genuinely wanted to be with me.
"Really, really. I promise."
The moment I answered, her face lit up like the sun. Not her usual mischievous grin, but a smile of pure, heartfelt joy.
"Great!"
She shot to her feet, making the mattress bounce wildly.
"We need to go make that contract right now! I'll come back as soon as it's done!"
"Haneul-ah!?"
True to her word, she vanished from sight like a gust of wind. Only a cartoonish afterimage lingered for a split second. The sudden movement whipped up a gust that actually lifted my lightweight body off the bed a little.
Crazy. How can a human move that fast?
Were all EX-rank Awakeners like this?
With the whirlwind that was Kang Haneul gone, a wave of relief finally washed over me.
"…Somehow, it worked."
The manager pitch had landed perfectly. She'd accepted it with overwhelming joy. Now, I was going to be her manager. Stuck to her side every day, a constant presence in her life.
Of course, it could turn into shackles. But at least they were shackles I had chosen. Not forced on me—I'd proposed them myself. That difference mattered.
This is how you seize the initiative.
Kang Haneul wanted me. And I'd use that desire to etch myself into her as an indispensable existence.
The plan wasn't flawless, of course. Her power was still overwhelming, and I was still weak. But at least, the direction of this relationship would be mine to set. I'd make it so.
For now, that was enough.
……………
Awakener Association HQ, Legal Department on the 12th floor.
A spacious, pristine office. One wall was floor-to-ceiling glass, offering a sweeping view of Gangnam below. Piles of documents towered on the desk: contracts, agreements, litigation files.
The Legal Department's main job at the Awakener Association was cleaning up messes caused by Awakeners. Those with power always caused problems, and it was the lawyers' lot to handle the aftermath.
One such lawyer, Park, sat reviewing papers. Thirty-five years old, seven years on the job.
At first, he'd admired Awakeners—heroes with superpowers. But reality was different. Immense power bred equally immense egos. Those wielding strength no ordinary human could endure developed matching arrogance and self-centeredness.
A good chunk of S-rank and above were, frankly, social misfits. Self-absorbed, capricious, hard to control. Not all, of course—some were exemplary. But the bad apples outnumbered them.
EX-ranks were worse. With power far beyond human limits, they were barely human anymore.
Knock knock.
The door opened without waiting for a response. No manners at all. The intruder's identity—
Kang Haneul. Association-affiliated EX-rank Awakener. Super strength and durability, powered by rage, always in a state of fury.
Frankly, a batshit crazy monster of a woman.
Lawyer Park sighed inwardly.
What mess has she made now?
She only came to Legal when she'd screwed up. Smashing buildings from poor power control, or taking out a villain but blowing a transformer and causing blackouts.
"What brings you here?"
"Make me a contract."
Straight to the point. No preamble.
Park opened his laptop and pulled up a standard employment template.
"What kind of contract do you need?"
"Manager employment contract."
"Manager?"
S-rank and above Association Awakeners had paperwork handled by the organization: schedules, PR, admin. For EX-ranks, they did everything.
Hiring a personal manager meant… private employment.
"Yes. Need it now."
"Understood. Can you provide the employee's info?"
Kang Haneul pulled out her smartphone, tapped a few times, and shoved it at him. A screenshot of a resident ID: Moon Yujin. 22. Graduate of Awakener Training Academy. Big round eyes, pale skin, terrified rabbit vibe.
And—
F-rank.
Low rank. Young. Did he even have the skills for manager work?
Not Park's concern. Client wants it, he drafts it.
"Mind if I ask his ability? For the contract details."
"Just… something that makes me feel comfy 'cause he's cute?"
Park nodded. Non-combat support ability.
"What about contract terms?"
"Well."
She crossed her arms, gazing at the ceiling. Thinking.
Silence stretched.
"First off, keep him away from other women… er, female Awakeners as much as possible. And Association female staff too."
"…Pardon?"
"Minimize unavoidable work contacts. Block them entirely if possible."
Park paused over his keyboard.
"Wouldn't that hinder operations?"
"Doesn't matter. He's my manager—he just works with me."
Sounds good, but weird. Managers coordinate with staff and other Awakeners.
"And he has to be exclusive to me. No working with other women, ahem, other Awakeners."
"Exclusivity is standard. No issue."
"And ideally…"
She bit her lip. Hesitant.
"…he lives with me. At my place. Forever. Can you put that in?"
"Cohabitation clause?"
"Yeah. So he can never leave my house."
Never leave? Forever?
Park's fingers froze. Dealing with EX-ranks was never easy.
"That… infringes on freedom of residence. Likely invalid in court."
"Agh, then package it somehow. Like training camp or live-in duty."
Training camp, live-in. Same thing: confinement.
"And."
She grinned wickedly.
"Add a clause where he obeys everything I say. Like mandatory compliance with orders."
"That's in standard contracts…"
"No, everything. No refusing anything."
Park stared at her. She was dead serious.
His temple throbbed.
"…That's borderline slavery. Violates labor laws."
"Then as close as possible."
"……"
"And the most important one."
She leaned forward, elbows on desk, chin in hands.
"Contract term: until death."
"Until termination upon death?"
"Yes. Lifetime contract."
Park glanced at his blank screen. Not a word typed.
No female Awakener or staff contact, exclusivity, confinement, absolute obedience, lifetime term.
This wasn't an employment contract.
What, a slave ownership deed?
Cold sweat trickled down his back.
"Lawyer?"
"…Yes?"
"You can do it, right?"
She asked, but refusal wasn't an option.
Park flashed his professional smile—honed over seven years.
"Frankly, all those clauses are invalid on sight. Confinement, forced labor, slavery. Court would toss it immediately."
"Oh?"
She tilted her head, expression screaming I don't care.
"Then you figure it out. Make it legally sound but get me what I want."
"That's…"
"If it's tough, I'll pay extra."
She whipped out her phone, tapped, showed the screen. Transfer complete: 100 million won.
Insane for a contract draft. A gag fee. Pressure.
"I'll make it as close as possible. But no direct confinement or slavery language. Instead…"
"Instead?"
"We'll leave interpretive wiggle room. Like term '[until mutual agreement]'. Makes unilateral termination hard."
"Good."
"Exclusivity clause: possible, under '[for operational efficiency]' pretext."
"That works."
"Residence: something vague like '[cohabitation required due to job nature]'. Not mandatory, but strongly recommended."
She laughed.
"Pro indeed."
"Obedience: '[duty to follow employer's instructions]'. Standard anyway."