An Urgent Report Before the Regular Meeting

The principal's office was quiet, lit only by moonlight.

It was such a wreck that you would have believed a thief had broken ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in.

And yet, the one man left standing amid the scene of the crime sat outwardly calm, staring down at the phone screen laid on the desk in front of him.

Every now and then, all that could be heard was a sigh, or a mutter to himself.

"Do I do this? Or not?"

"…Hah…. Hah…. If I do it, I'd better be ready to get my ass fired, huh?"

"My, my precious…. job that pays five million won a month."

"Seven million a month, counting the bonus…."

Somebody save me.

Can't I just send this to the company like an anonymous whistleblower letter?

Can't Baek Cheonhyeong take some flak and sort this whole mess out himself?!

'It's not like that guy can ever get fired!'

……His sense of mission — that this simply had to be done — and the looming job insecurity that a perfectly good paycheck might vanish within the week had his heart tied in knots.

'Damn it.'

But what kind of place was it he'd snuck into?

The moment that thought took root, he inevitably circled back to the fundamental reason he was doing this in the first place.

"Still…. I have to."

'Because I can't keep exposing those kids to an environment like that.'

It wasn't only the teachers — the adults — who had to endure the principal's frequent drinking and cursing.

Did anyone honestly think that man was the type to stop what he was doing just because someone said, "Oh, there are children nearby"?

'If he were, I wouldn't be planning a late-night heist of a kindergarten, would I?'

"Hahhh……."

As he heaved a sigh deep enough to crack the floorboards, the phone screen flashed with a new message.

He was, truly, an impossible man not to be irritated by.

Once again, the principal sauntered into work just shy of lunchtime.

And as always, he headed straight for the principal's office — except…

"What's this?"

There, in front of his office door, sat a small bucket of water with a mop propped against it.

The instant he moved to shove it aside in irritation, a man's low voice came from behind him.

"Ah…. Principal, sir, there was a bit of a leak in your office. It rained quite heavily early this morning, so…."

Kwon Haeseong hurriedly lifted the mop and threw a troubled glance toward the interior of the office.

"What? A leak?"

He rushed inside to inspect the room, and sure enough, a thin film of water clung to the floor, along with the hasty traces of a cleanup job.

'What a pain in the neck.'

Still, with nothing all that valuable in the room besides the safe, the principal turned briskly on his heel and issued instructions to Kwon Haeseong.

"Clean it up quickly. I have a lot of work to get through today."

It was, of course, a lie.

He shredded ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his own work into pieces and flung them at the teachers beneath him, who handled everything themselves — there was nothing left for him to do.

But a man had to maintain appearances.

'Hmm…. Maybe I'll go lie down in the staff lounge.'

He was sprawled out with his feet up in the empty staff lounge when, all of a sudden, a director called for him.

One of the directors whose connection had been brokered through the department head, who happened to be a relative.

'He wants me to attend a regular board meeting?'

Far from being an out-of-the-blue request, it already had his heart pounding.

And no wonder — only a few days earlier, he'd wrapped up what you might call a transaction with the very director who had just contacted him.

A small gift in exchange for a seat.

Obviously that seat wouldn't be at headquarters — it'd be one of the positions at a regional BOND branch….

'Hmm, though usually something like this would be kept quiet and handled privately?' A flicker of doubt crossed his mind —

'No, well, these things can get decided right there in a regular meeting! Everyone at that table's a guy I know!'

And a regional branch office — come on! That would look far more impressive than this kindergarten principal post! Yes, yes, exactly, absolutely.

They'd told him to have some portfolio or something presentable ready in advance, so he'd made the teachers run some all-night camp thing or other.

'I heard private kindergartens do those a lot these days, so I just had them copy what I overheard.'

Who would have thought. The chance to put it to use had come far sooner than expected.

'This is my chance to sell myself and lock that seat in!'

He scrambled up on the spot, dug out the expensive suit he kept stashed in his car at all times, and changed into it.

Fixing his hair in a rush, the principal opened the staff lounge door and stepped out.

And that was when he came face to face with someone walking in.

"Teacher…. Hwiyeon?"

"Ah, Principal."

"Where are you off to?"

"…Yes, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have somewhere to be this afternoon, so I'm taking a half day."

The tone was impeccably polite, but the look in this new teacher's eyes was rotten through and through.

The look of someone peering down at him from above.

That subtle, dismissive contempt — he'd seen it more times than he could count.

'Little punk.'

But the principal had just received good news, hadn't he?

'The attitude adjustment can wait.'

Besides, this rookie teacher who'd supposedly come out of some early childhood education program had caused one disaster after another from the day he arrived, and barely a few days ago he'd left the annex building in an absolutely unusable state.

With CEO Baek Cheonhyeong having come in person to say his piece, there was nothing the principal could scold him for.

But… if that director's seat was confirmed, then disciplining this brat until the day he left might actually turn out to be quite enjoyable.

'You just wait, kid.'

The principal nodded, wearing what he hoped was a benevolent smile.

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

With that, he hurried out of the kindergarten and made his way to the designated spot in the headquarters building, where he puffed himself up as much as possible and took the seat beside the director who had summoned him.

Except.

'What's wrong with this guy's face?'

As if he couldn't bear to exchange a single word with him, the director turned his head away with a sigh.

"Excuse me…. Director, sir?"

"……."

What was this? He tried several times to strike up a conversation, but the director kept his mouth firmly shut and radiated displeasure, until the principal finally gave up trying.

The omens were… not good.

'What gives? Weren't you handing me a seat?'

And then at last, when the meeting began — convened with executives and staff whose faces he barely knew, quite unlike what he'd expected —

Baek Cheonhyeong, seated in the most honored position at the head of the table, opened with an unexpected remark.

"We're told there's an urgent report to be made before today's regular meeting begins. It should be fine for everyone to hear, so let's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hear it together, shall we?"

Shortly after those words, there came a knock, and the door swung open as a neatly dressed man and woman entered the conference room.

"Ah, right on time."

The principal froze in disbelief at the sight of the two people walking in.

Na Hwiyeon, who had claimed he had somewhere to be this afternoon after taking his half day — and was that…. Yoo, Yoo Jinchae?

The new teacher had shown up to a regular board meeting alongside the only teacher in the entire kindergarten with an actual personality!

After Na Hwiyeon gave a brief greeting, Yoo Jinchae, standing beside him, began handing out thick stacks of paper to match the number of people seated at the table.

On the first page of each stack, in enormous letters, was the heading:

That single line was enough to set the room abuzz.

Na Hwiyeon gave a quick glance at Yoo Jinchae as she connected his laptop to the screen, then began in earnest.

"I've prepared a summary for your convenience, covering the embezzlement of the monthly budget allocated to Bada Kindergarten as well as its donation funds."

An embezzlement report spanning roughly one year, including the second half of last year.

Embezzlement.

To office workers — especially those comfortable in the corporate world — what a dreadfully sensitive word that was.

Na Hwiyeon seized that keyword like a hound on a scent and refused to let go, expanding his case point by point.

The people in the conference room, thrown off balance by the two strangers who had barged in out of nowhere and the word embezzlement they kept dangling, were too bewildered to risk saying anything.

"In addition, I personally witnessed dereliction of duty, working under the influence of alcohol, unnecessary workplace harassment, and violations of fire safety law within the kindergarten."

At that point, one executive finally collected himself and raised a hand, his tone incredulous.

"Hold on…. But who, exactly?"

Embezzlement, dereliction of duty — fine, fine, and workplace harassment too. But all of it had to have an actual perpetrator, didn't it?

It was strange that no one had yet mentioned who had been doing all this.

At that moment, a weary smile spread across Na Hwiyeon's face where he stood angled beside the screen.

And moments later, a video abruptly began playing on the screen.

A man reaching his hands up toward the ceiling.

The unmistakable gesture of someone taping something over with duct tape.

And then, an irritated voice.

Na Hwiyeon looked over at the principal, who sat cornered in his seat, silently draining of color.

And little by little, as the people around the room matched the man in the video to the principal sitting in the corner, murmurs began to ripple outward.

"Isn't that him?"

"Why would he tape over the sprinklers? So that's what caused the fire at the kindergarten?"

"He's related to Department Head Park, isn't he?"

The short but devastating first video cut off.

Na Hwiyeon, who had at some point eased aside so that the screen was fully visible, studied one particular person carefully before speaking.

"……Principal. We could not simply stand by and watch."

It was heartbreaking.

He bowed his head and set his face into such profound bitterness that it was hard to believe this was the same man who had spoken of embezzlement so matter-of-factly.

In response, the people in the room felt a measure of sympathy and awkward helplessness layered over their earlier bewilderment.

But Na Hwiyeon had no intention of letting this momentum die.

'Gotta push harder.'

At this rate, it could all end in a vague "how unfortunate" and fizzle out into nothing.

To strike a chord in the hearts of corporate men forever running their own cost-benefit calculations, he needed to move them more deeply, right here and now.

Yoo Jinchae, who had exchanged a glance with Na Hwiyeon, immediately advanced the screen.

And then —

"Children?"

"…Look at them playing. Adorable."

"Are those the Bada Kindergarten kids?"

Photographs of the children filled the screen.

Pictures taken on Seora's digital camera during the all-night camp.

Among them was even one of Cheonji splashing around in the water.

"We want the children to be free to be happy and have fun at our kindergarten. To that end, we want an environment that is no longer dangerous — one where they are guaranteed proper learning and play."

Like a relay baton, Yoo Jinchae joined in with a sorrowful face.

"We understand you have no personal interest in the kindergarten itself. All we ask is that you give some thought to the bare minimum environment for the children…. We teachers can make do, but what fault is it of theirs?"

'I knew that man could act. Look at him go.'

The two of them fell silent, heads bowed for a moment.

They deliberately said nothing of the unfair treatment and suffering the teachers had endured. Bringing that up would only have missed its mark.

So they leaned on the thing everyone could understand.

The children of Bada Kindergarten were the children of the company's own employees.

In this very room, surely at least one person had a connection to one of those parents.

Besides, no matter how cold-hearted a person might be, humans never fail to soften when it comes to animals and children, do they?

And with visual aids, tugging at the heartstrings is easy.

Like this.

"There's clearly…. a problem here."

"Who's the principal? That man, right?"

"What a piece of s—. He can't do that to the kids."

"Good grief…. that's just wrong."

"Hey, Director Kim, weren't you friendly with the principal over there?"

"Me? I don't know anything about that."

Pity and fury erupted all at once.

Watching the reactions roll in, Na Hwiyeon quietly exhaled the breath he'd been holding.

'This should be enough….'

Even if they wanted to distance themselves now, they wouldn't manage it — everyone would be too busy watching everyone else. Anyone who didn't chime in here might be lumped in with the principal.

The moment for the two of them to slip out was fast approaching.

Just then, one of the directors shot to his feet, kicking his chair back, his face thunderous.

"Principal!! Is this all true?!!"

He was a familiar face.

But that didn't matter in the slightest.

Baek Cheonhyeong, who until now had sat in his chair doing nothing but observe, gave them the signal to leave.

"N-no, it's not like that—!"

"Not like what, old man! Everyone in this room saw it! You pocketed the money meant for the children's care and pulled all this on top of it — you should be on your knees begging and it still wouldn't be enough!"

"F—! Who even are you? I-if you don't know the facts, shut your mouth!"

"What? Hey! Do you know who I am?"

"Well, this has gone to hell. Total chaos."

Na Hwiyeon waited until Yoo Jinchae had layered a 'CCTV clip of the principal pounding box soju in broad daylight' over the room like white noise, and then the two of them slipped out together.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the principal leaping to his feet, shouting after them with wounded innocence as they left the room —

"NA HWIYEON!!"

But the door closing was faster.