Sneaking Into My Own Workplace

Assistant Manager Park, one of BOND's civilian office workers, was once again dragging her worn-out, run-down body toward the first-floor cafeteria.

What a dreary life this is.

Overtime, overtime, and more overtime, every single day. This company treated work-life balance like something you'd toss to a dog — there wasn't a day off to be found. All-nighters and emergency call-outs were simply part of the daily routine, no matter what you did.

And yet, if you asked why the competition to get hired here shot sky-high while the resignation rate crawled along the floor…

It's the fat paycheck and the insane benefits, obviously.

People sang the resignation song all the time, but the ones who actually went through with quitting were few and far between. Assistant Manager Park was one of those who never did.

Still, no matter how you sliced it, being exhausted was exhausting.

"Haah…"

Park let out a sigh before she could stop herself. Assistant Manager Kang, walking beside her, heard it and asked, "Assistant Manager Park, are you feeling unwell?"

"…Oh, no, it's nothing. Just…"

Feeling a bit worn down, that was all. Ever since CEO Baek Cheonhyeong had taken office, people said the company was slowly getting its systems in order and breathing easier — but for a low-ranking employee like her, none of that had quite sunk in yet.

Not that she could say any of that to a superior's face.

"…Mm, I guess I just don't have much to look forward to in life. What about you, Assistant Manager Kang? Any hobbies or little joys like that?"

Kang, who'd been walking along scrolling his phone, flashed a grin and shook his head.

"No time for hobbies…"

"…Haha. Fair ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enough."

"But instead."

Instead? He thrust the phone screen he'd been looking at right in front of her.

The company intranet bulletin board?

"Browsing the intranet's been pretty fun lately."

"Ah."

It used to be that this barren corporate wasteland of a board hosted nothing but complaints about work… but at some point, a few figures of interest had become the hot topic, and the whole atmosphere had shifted into something strange.

Assistant Manager Park could easily recall several of the posts that had dominated the feed these past few days.

Assistant Manager Park wholeheartedly agreed with Assistant Manager Kang.

It is fun, honestly.

In a company that grinded down everyone equally — field personnel and office staff alike — juicy gossip worth a dopamine hit was welcomed with open arms wherever you found it.

Great for clearing your head, and since it's not about work, there's no burden attached.

Park herself had spent quite a while pickled in that dopamine, in and out of the intranet all day long.

But at some point, it had become impossible to enjoy it as mere entertainment, and she'd stopped.

"By the way, Assistant Manager Park, do you have any idea who the people in these posts are? I can tell a few of them are the male teachers at Bada Kindergarten… but the rest, I haven't got a clue. They're all different people, right? They said the kindergarten has three male teachers."

"…Well."

Park answered with a distant look in her eyes, staring off into empty space.

Yes. That was the reason I suddenly cut myself off from the dopamine everyone else was enjoying so freely.

Assistant Manager Park had joined BOND as a civilian and worked in the PR team. The PR team promoted the company and its in-house potions and equipment, but they also handled the occasional task of keeping internal secrets from leaking outside.

Which meant that every so often, she stumbled face-first into truths she never wanted to know.

Park thought back on the confidential assignment handed down just days before — to a select few in the PR team, herself included.

And naturally, in order to suppress his identity, one had no choice but to learn exactly who he was.

Well, of course I know who he is. I personally called every single outlet and killed those articles one by one.

What's more, Assistant Manager Park — who needed a minimum of three coffee transfusions a day thanks to her chronic overtime — ran into him every single time she stopped by the café in the lobby.

The guy who sprinted across the lobby with two kids in his arms! The guy who strolled out of the underground dungeon alone, fit as a fiddle! One of the sunglasses-wearing kindergarten teachers! The social butterfly who convened a full staff meeting in the middle of the lobby! All of them! ALL! THE SAME GUY!

Na Hwiyeon, the male teacher at Bada Kindergarten!!

At first, being the sole keeper of the truth had simply been amusing. But one time became two, two became three… and finally, when every last piece of the puzzle clicked into place—

All that remained was shock… and a profound, aching pity.

What on earth kind of tribulations is that teacher enduring, all by himself?

Assistant Manager Park opened the door to the cafeteria, offering a silent prayer of condolence to the teacher in question.

Every time she saw him, the man looked absolutely beyond saving — either grubby and disheveled, or drenched to the bone like a sheet of seaweed.

He has it worse than I do.

Letting out a sigh mixed with sympathy and just a spoonful of pity, she stepped into the cafeteria.

And then…

"What's going on? Why all the commotion?"

The murmuring voices of her fellow employees. Off in the distance, one table had apparently been designated a high-crime zone — nobody would go anywhere near it. And yet the chatter about that table showed no sign of dying down.

Drawn along, Assistant Manager Park studied the table closely too. And she was stunned.

Hey! You?! Why are you mixed up in it AGAIN?!

There he was, right in the middle of Field Team Na — the field team infamous for being the most problematic of them all. That, that guy! The male teacher from Bada Kindergarten!

Park looked around with a hollow expression. People were rapidly pulling out their phones.

The same people who had so kindly pretended not to notice her were now gleefully fanning the flames of rumor.

I had no choice but to eat at the cafeteria, and then I left the building.

The members of Team Na had come out to see me off on my way to the field, so I turned to them and voiced the curiosity I'd been holding in until now.

"Do you all just… never come down to the cafeteria?"

"…How did you know that?"

How did I know? They'd behaved exactly like me, a first-timer fumbling his way through the place. Besides, everyone around us had been gawking at our table like we were a troop of zoo monkeys — how could anyone miss that?

Kang Howon, pausing mid-inspection of his watch, replied with perfect nonchalance.

"We usually just order to the office. By the time we get back from a field op, we're not just smelling of sweat — we're basically walking dust pits. And we're of the school that says, better to starve than share a meal with people we'd rather not look at."

Was he talking about the people in the allocation department?

"Then why did you go to the cafeteria today?"

At that question, everyone looked at Moon Chaeyoung. She rolled her eyes lightly and answered as though offering up an excuse.

"There was a rumor the cafeteria food was good…"

What a remarkably simple reason.

"It was good."

"Indeed, it was good."

"Yes, yes, it was good, all right. Aside from the fact that I nearly gave myself a stomachache from all that rapt attention being lavished on me."

"Senior, didn't you nearly give yourself a stomachache from overeating, not from the attention?"

It looked like this small talk could stretch on forever, so I quickly bowed my head.

"Then I'll be off."

They piled on the courtesies — we should have dinner together sometime, next time for sure — and I hurried my steps along. When Lee Seohyeok showed every sign of actually locking in a dinner date, I pulled away at something close to a dead run.

As I headed toward my home, I suddenly changed direction, looped once around the headquarters building… then doubled back the way I'd come, until at last I reached my destination.

My workplace, which by now felt familiar as anything.

Bada Kindergarten.

I could think about this all night and it'd still be the only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way.

I tilted my head slightly and scanned my surroundings. Just in case, I'd brought a hat and a mask, and I was dressed head to toe in dark colors.

Dinner hour had come and gone — the moment darkness had just settled over the grounds.

I pulled the mask hanging from my chin up over my face and climbed over the kindergarten fence.

That was almost later than planned.

The moment I set foot in the yard, I found it — an exterior window at the far end of the first-floor corridor.

And I pushed it open.

Good thing I unlocked the latch before leaving yesterday.

I'd been the last one out, the one who checked the windows at closing time.

It would have been easier to punch in the code on the front door's keypad and stroll right in, but…

That leaves a record, remember.

I took off my shoes and, with the mask clutched in both hands, slipped lightly through the open window.

The corridor, with every light off, was dark and utterly still.

Perfect… now then—

"Who are you?"

"…!"

The instant Nabi's voice sounded from behind me, I wrenched my body sideways and whipped my head around on pure reflex.

A large man's palm… was hovering right in front of my nose.

"Sharp instincts, I'll give you that."

I frowned. The shadowy figure that had crept up on me in the darkness refused to resolve into anything I could make out.

But the voice that followed told me exactly who it was.

"It's hardly the weekend you'd come in for overtime."

Baek Cheonhyeong.

"Don't tell me there's something here worth stealing?"

Baek Cheonhyeong withdrew the hand he'd thrust out so imposingly and, with one long-legged stride, stepped neatly through the window.

Watching him, I swallowed dryly.

Can bad luck get any worse than this?

Of all things — getting caught by the homeowner while burgling his house.

Baek Cheonhyeong, faintly visible in the moonlight, was in shirtsleeves — apparently stepping out for a breath of air in the middle of working late.

He tapped his own jaw lightly.

"The mask's not doing you much good."

I know.

Starting right from "It's hardly the weekend you'd come in for overtime" — he'd already narrowed it down to me specifically, the teacher. That question alone had given the game away.

Well, no helping it, then.

I let out a small sigh and pulled the mask back down to my chin. Then, with a perfectly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blank expression, I answered the man standing there without a flicker of emotion on his face.

"Yes, you got me."

"…Teacher Na Hwiyeon. What business brings you to the kindergarten at this hour? Is there something here you intend to steal?"

"Yes, I came to steal something."

"…!"

Isn't that exactly what you asked for?

Why act so startled when you're the one who raised the question?

Instead of my conspicuous kindergarten bag, I held up the black backpack I'd brought along in advance and addressed Baek Cheonhyeong.

"I was planning to stuff it full in here, but you caught me red-handed."

"Steal what, exactly? There's nothing in a kindergarten worth money."

"There is, actually."

"There is?"