A New Job
Min-ji let out a long sigh, shooting a sulky glare at Seok-jun as he casually smoothed Mina’s hair. “Ugh, fine. I guess it’s my fault for not realizing what a sneaky bastard you are.”
“More importantly, Lee Mina. What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean, what am I going to do?”
When Mina looked at her in confusion, Min-ji sighed again and pulled a paper envelope from her bag. “What else? Your resignation letter, obviously.”
“Ah.” Only then did Mina remember that she had submitted her resignation to Hanshin before leaving. “I had no idea that Mr. Jeong Tae was the CEO of Hanshin.”
She had known he was wealthy since he used to visit her house sometimes when she was little, but she had never imagined that the friendly uncle who always greeted her warmly could possibly be the head of a massive corporation like Hanshin.
“Hehe, well, he does act like a total slacker most of the time,” Min-ji said, taking a sip of wine before looking at Mina seriously. “They haven’t officially processed your resignation yet, and since the whole board has been cleaned out, they could even retroactively promote you for all the advancement opportunities you missed.”
“...So there were missed promotions too.”
“You really didn’t know?”
Mina awkwardly averted her eyes from Min-ji’s stunned gaze. Between desperately avoiding Gu Gang-woo’s advances and drowning in the endless pile of work that came in every single day, she simply hadn’t had the mental bandwidth to worry about something like that.
“Anyway, we’ve more or less gotten rid of that annoying pest, and those useless bitches who loved to run their mouths won’t be around anymore either. So how about coming back?”
Mina stared at the resignation letter Min-ji had pushed toward her and fell into thought. Hanshin was certainly a good company in many ways. The only real problem had been Gu Gang-woo and the executives who were supposedly his lovers, but now that they were gone, there was no better guild out there with comparable conditions.
“From the perspective of someone who runs a company, losing someone like you would be a huge loss for me too.”
I suffered so much because of those incompetent idiots and couldn’t even look after you properly.
Watching Min-ji grind her teeth, Mina gave an awkward smile before sinking back into her thoughts. It was true that the offer was tempting. Hanshin covered equipment repair costs and supplies, and even without counting performance bonuses, her salary would rise significantly with a promotion.
Returning wouldn’t be such a bad choice at all.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
“Huh?”
Mina looked at the documents Seok-jun held out to her. “Is this…?”
“It’s the payment for the request we handled before.”
“W-wait! Are you serious right now!?”
“We’re also quite interested in talented individuals like Miss Mina.”
Min-ji couldn’t hide her panic at the way he had smoothly cut in just as things were going her way. Mina found it fascinating to see the usually sly woman so flustered, but when she checked the documents he handed over, her mouth fell open in quiet astonishment.
“This is…”
“Yes. After deducting various taxes and such, the net amount comes to approximately 2.5 million won per day.”
Since she had worked for three days, that meant nearly 7.5 million won total. It might sound small when described as a daily rate, but from a hunter’s perspective, it was by no means a trivial sum. Mina’s monthly salary was 5.5 million won, after all. In just two days she had nearly caught up, and by the third day she had surpassed it entirely.
“Mina, don’t fall for it! You know their daily rates fluctuate wildly depending on the request, and the risk is huge, right?!”
“You and I both know that both our organizations are essentially semi-public entities. As long as nothing catastrophic happens, there’s no need to worry about work drying up. Isn’t that common knowledge?”
The risk level is pretty much the same whether it’s gate subjugation or my regular work. Anyone with half a brain knows that.
Even in the face of Min-ji’s urgent tone, Seok-jun remained perfectly composed.
“For your information, that figure doesn’t even include the performance bonus we received for taking down the Strong King or the value of the core we submitted as evidence.”
“I’ll go with Mr. Seok-jun’s office.”
Mina answered without hesitation at Seok-jun’s follow-up remark. Min-ji’s jaw dropped.
“Strong King? Wait, the Strong King I’m thinking of? Wasn’t that thing killed by Yu Seong-jin a long time ago?”
Mina was actually more surprised that Min-ji didn’t already know. As a director at a place like Hanshin, she should have been informed ages ago.
“While we’re on the subject, if you’ve invested in the nearby ski resort, I would recommend pulling out now.”
“Haa, seriously…”
In the end, Min-ji pressed a hand to her forehead, thought for a moment, then looked at Seok-jun again. “Can I really trust you?”
“Think of it as me standing in for Miss Mina. Since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other anyway, constantly making things awkward by getting red in the face would be uncomfortable for both of us, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh please. Who said you could decide that?”
With that, she pushed her chair back and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
“You’re leaving already?” The food hadn’t even all come out yet.
“Something came up, and I don’t want to be the third wheel on someone else’s date and get called out for having no tact.”
“N-no tact…”
Still, it was true that she rarely got to see her friend, so Mina felt a pang of regret that she was leaving so soon. Before long, Min-ji approached her and spoke again.
“Anyway, it hasn’t been processed yet, so think it over carefully and let me know.”
“That’s…”
“Shh. He’s like a wolf. Be careful not to get eaten, okay?”
Mina froze solid at the last whisper Min-ji breathed into her ear. Get eaten? What does that even mean? She had a vague idea, but her brain refused to process it.
“Aigoo, how did our little kitten end up with a guy like him?”
“Aren’t you getting busy soon?”
“Yeees, yeees, I’m going. See you later, Mina. Let’s meet again soon.”
“Oh? Uh, yeah… see you next time…”
Mina could only wave as she watched her friend, who had somehow ended up leaving the table.
“Shall we eat first?”
At the sight of the food that arrived as if it had been waiting for this moment, Mina picked up her fork and knife in a daze. Some of the dishes looked vaguely familiar, while others she couldn’t identify at all, though they all tasted delicious.
“It feels like it’s missing some seasoning?”
“Places like this tend to emphasize the natural flavors of the ingredients themselves.”
“Aww, did I say that out loud?”
Mina awkwardly picked up a piece of food and chewed, glancing at him sideways before she finally couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Mr. Seok-jun, what did you used to do before?”
At first she had thought he was just a hunter who ran a rather unique hunter office, but the more she thought about it, the more she felt that “unique” wasn’t nearly enough to describe him.
“Would you like to try guessing, Miss Mina?”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
When Mina asked again, he nodded immediately.
“Just a moment.”
Mina stared at him and thought seriously. It was somewhat understandable that he was close with the police—specifically detectives—given the nature of his office. But he also seemed strangely familiar with Captain Jeong from the military, and even with Min-ji, who was both her friend and a director at Hanshin.
Then she remembered the anti-tank rifle that had come out of that massive pickup truck.
“Were you a former soldier or something?”
“In this country, it’s rarer to find someone who wasn’t a soldier, isn’t it?”
“Ugh, that’s not what I mean! I mean a professional soldier!”
“Not a bad guess.”
If it was right, it was right. If it was wrong, it was wrong. What was with that vague answer?
“Hmph. You’re not planning to give me a proper answer, are you?”
“Things like this are only fun when they’re complicated.”
“Wow, that’s so mean.”
It wasn’t just mean—it was downright petty. How was that any different from openly refusing to tell her? As a result, Mina’s competitive spirit flared up even more. Still, she didn’t have nearly enough clues right now.
First, thinking about his hometown…
“You said you were a local, right?”
“A local, huh. Well, for a local I certainly had quite the wanderlust. Sleeping in a tent, by a campfire, staring up at the sky without a ceiling overhead… it’s not bad at all.”
“Do you like traveling? Overseas trips and such?”
“Overseas wasn’t really my thing. Being stuck inside an airplane is boring.”
The more she heard, the less she understood. Mina finally threw up her hands.
“Can’t you give me any hints?”
“Listening to other people’s confessions was part of my work, if you can call it work.”
“That just made it more complicated!”
Anyone could tell that wasn’t a hint—it was a bluff.
“Confessions all of a sudden? Who was confessing?”
“Everyone confesses. They get to relieve their guilt, and I get to do my job. It was a fair trade.”
“Ugh, seriously. Then I’ll ask about something else.”
Mina decided to set aside the question of his past for now. There was something far more pressing on her mind today.
“Um, earlier you kept telling the AI to repeat today’s date. Why did you do that?”
She had wondered if it was some kind of code, but no matter how she thought about it, it didn’t seem to have any special meaning. He had spoken normally during calls with other people, and the AI hadn’t interrupted at all.
“That’s probably an extension of the derealization I mentioned before.”
This time he answered readily. He had described it as a symptom where he perceived his own emotions as if they belonged to someone else. Mina couldn’t easily imagine what that must feel like.
“It feels like I can’t properly tell whether this is a dream or reality.”
“Have you ever considered getting more counseling?”
She asked because she thought it might help somehow, but Seok-jun shook his head.
“I stopped going to counseling a long time ago.”
“What?! Why?”
If he still had symptoms like that, wasn’t it serious? Even as she looked at him with concern, he continued eating calmly.
“The counselor couldn’t give me any certainty and never offered any real answers to what I said.”
Since Mina had never been to counseling herself, she had nothing to say. One thing was clear, though—he really didn’t seem to like counselors.
“Why do you think that?”
She knew they were doctors who needed proper qualifications.
“Miss Mina, what do you think of a doctor who can’t properly diagnose their patient’s illness and lacks any confidence in their judgment?”
“They’d be a total quack, obviously.”
“That counselor was exactly like that.”
“Ah.”
Only then did Mina realize that Seok-jun had been calling them a “counselor” rather than a “therapist” or “doctor” the whole time.
“So I quit. Instead of wasting time rehashing the past, I figured it would be more helpful to focus even a little on my own work going forward.”
As she listened to him speak, he took a sip of wine and frowned.
“Tsk. I really do prefer beer over wine.”
“Ahaha! Me too, actually.”
For the record, after that single sip, Mina hadn’t touched her wine again.
That was how she finished dinner with him, then moved to the bar and ordered drinks.
“Huuuh…?”
When Mina regained her senses, she realized she had somehow fallen asleep. When she opened her eyes, bright, refreshing sunlight was streaming in through the window.
But that wasn’t the problem. The bed she was lying on felt completely different from her usual one. And if that were all, it might have been fine—but Mina could feel it.
My… my back hurts.
What truly convinced her was the languid exhaustion in her body, the way her breasts were pressed and squished against something, the sticky traces left behind, and the warm, firm sensation touching her bare skin.
“Are you awake?”
“S-Seok-jun?!”
Because she had also met the cloudy teal gaze of Seok-jun as he looked down at her.