The Frame-Up
"Phew, finally I can breathe."
After wrapping up the insanely hectic morning tasks, I could finally take a break at lunchtime. I muttered that as I pulled my hands away from the keyboard. To handle the Clusterfuck incident that blew up at dawn, the first thing I, as the programmer, did was delete all the dummy data lingering on the server so users couldn't stumble upon traces of the old story anymore.
Honestly, it'd be a lie to say it didn't hurt. In a way, it was like erasing traces of a game that was like my own child—with my own hands, no less. But the game had already officially launched, and clinging to the past now wouldn't change a damn thing. So, all I could do was salvage whatever I could.
That was the best I could manage right now.
That's when the junior dev sitting next to me spoke up first.
"Deputy Manager Kim, you finally done?"
"Yeah, more or less wrapped it up."
"Then let's grab lunch together."
Only then did hunger hit me, and I glanced around the office. Everyone else had already headed out for lunch, leaving the place eerily quiet.
"You waited for me?"
The junior shrugged and replied, "If I didn't, you'd just eat alone all lonely-like again."
"You little punk, loyal as hell."
"If you're grateful, buy me something tasty."
"What's on the cafeteria menu today?"
"...Cheapskate."
Pretending not to hear his grumbling, I grabbed my wallet and smartphone from beside the monitor.
"C'mon, lunch hour's almost over."
After a late lunch at the cafeteria, we got back to the office just past 1 p.m.
Oof.
Being the last ones in meant we were drawing some sharp glares from the other employees. I ignored them as best I could and settled into my seat, but the stares prickling the back of my neck wouldn't let up.
Did I get something on my face?
As I puzzled over it and checked my reflection, a female coworker approached.
"Deputy Manager Kim."
"Yes?"
"The CEO wants to see you for a quick chat."
It was sudden, but Lee Hyuncheol calling me in like this wasn't anything new, so I just said okay. Before heading to his office, I double-checked my teeth for any stray chili powder, straightened my clothes, and knocked on the door.
Knock knock.
"Come in," came the curt reply from inside.
I eased the door open and stepped in. Lee Hyuncheol, looking no different from yesterday, eyed me up and down like he'd just arrived himself.
What's this about?
His gaze felt off from the usual. Realizing the vibe was weird, I asked tensely,
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
Lee Hyuncheol nodded and gestured to the spare chair.
"Have a seat, Deputy Manager Kim."
I sat carefully as instructed. He leaned toward me slightly, crossed his arms on his knee, and said,
"I called you in because of a weird post that went up on the company messenger."
"A weird post... you say?"
"Better to see it for yourself than hear a hundred words."
With that, he swiveled his monitor to show me a single post. And its content read like this:
A post straight-up targeting me.
...No way.
That's when it clicked why everyone in the office had been staring daggers.
"That's not true."
I denied it immediately. "I'm not an idiot—why would I do something that'd get caught right away? Especially when I'd be the prime suspect."
After Lee Hyuncheol took over as lead PD, most of the original dev team quit or switched jobs. Some left voluntarily, but plenty were forced out by the office politics from his imported clique. After weeding them out one by one, I was the last original member standing.
"But there's gotta be a reason for a post like that, right? No smoke without fire."
His cold eyes fixed on me told me everything. He'd already decided to boot me from the company. True or not, this was his golden chance to ditch the thorn in his side.
"Anyway, we've confirmed with you. You can go now. The audit team will handle the rest."
"...Yes, sir."
I don't remember what was said after that—or what I said. But one thing was crystal clear: I'd fallen into someone's trap, and it put my job on the line.
As I quietly closed the CEO's door and stepped out, every eye in the office snapped to me. I hadn't gotten it before, but now I did. The meaning behind those piercing stares.
Some probably believed the messenger post; others didn't. But it didn't matter anymore. Once branded a criminal, they'd tear me apart. Even if proven innocent later, they'd just claim they got swept up in the hysteria and bail. I'd seen witch hunts like that play out before—no doubt what was coming next.
"Fuck, I'm screwed."
I muttered wearily as I slumped into my chair. My junior glanced around nervously and asked,
"You okay, Deputy Manager?"
"No. Not okay."
"...Figured as much."
He scratched his cheek awkwardly, peeked over the partition, then whispered,
"But seriously, that hit post on the messenger—is it true?"
I sighed deeply. "Am I crazy? Why would I do something that'd blow up in my face instantly."
Blind might be the bamboo forest for office workers, but anonymity vanishes once the poster gets ID'd. If I'd really planned to leak, I'd have prepped way more thoroughly.
"Yeah, you're not the sloppy type."
Nodding at my explanation, he asked as if it just hit him,
"Then who posted it? And why?"
"...Beats me."
Most likely someone with a grudge against me. Or maybe Lee Hyuncheol staging it himself—he'd hated my guts for ages and might've wanted me gone for good.
"Anyway, keep your distance for a bit. Don't want it splashing back on you."
"Aw, c'mon. After all the camaraderie we've built?"
"I said keep away, got it?"
"...What era do you think it is with that rotten old line?"
Mission accomplished—getting my ever-positive junior to scowl for once. To clear my cluttered head, I decided to bury myself in work for the rest of the day. Nothing else I could do right now anyway.
That evening.
"I'm home."
"Welcome back, Sensei."
Saori greeted me at the door in the same bare-shirt look from morning, beaming brightly.
"Had dinner yet?"
"Nope, waiting to eat with you."
She glanced toward the kitchen as she spoke. A delicious aroma wafted out—she'd clearly cooked something.
"Fridge was pretty empty, though. How'd you manage?"
"Ordered with the smartphone you lent me."
"Ah."
Right—groceries get delivered these days too. I'd only ever used delivery apps for takeout, never crossed my mind for shopping.
"You look beat. Wash up and come eat."
She smoothly took my bag. It was so natural I barely reacted. Anyway, I was starving, so I washed up in the bathroom, ditched my suit jacket in the bedroom, and headed back to the living room.
"Whoa..."
I was a little stunned by the dinner Saori had prepared.
"Hamburg steak?"
"Yep. Made it myself."
She puffed out her chest proudly. Her cool beauty clashing with the cuteness made me chuckle involuntarily.
Pfft.
She puffed her cheeks a bit at my reaction and pulled out a chair, urging me,
"Don't just stand there—sit and eat, Sensei."
"Got it."
Overwhelmed by her insistence, I sat and marveled at the pro-level hamburg steak from our kitchen. No way this came from here.
Perfectly seared patty topped with demi-glace sauce, cute broccoli and baby carrot garnishes. I'd sensed it yesterday with the instant miso soup, but Saori was a killer cook—way beyond her housewifely image.
As I sliced the steak in half with chopsticks, juicy fat beaded out, soaking the white plate. I swallowed hard and took a big bite.
"Hot damn."
Scorching. But even more delicious. The slightly saltier-than-average seasoning was perfect over rice. Before the aftertaste faded, I shoveled in a heap of white rice. The protein-carb harmony felt like infinite energy—I was genuinely moved.
This is home cooking.
Nationality aside, who cared? Honoring her effort, I polished off every scrap and patted my belly with a satisfied sigh.
"Tasty?"
Saori, who'd watched from across the table, asked. "Obviously," I replied.
No flattery—truly the best meal in ages. Usually I ate just to survive, but this time I savored every bite.
"Heehee."
She giggled happily at the praise, just like yesterday. Feeling oddly like newlyweds, I averted my eyes awkwardly. Then she piped up as if remembering something.
"Oh yeah, Sensei—something bad happen at work?"
"Huh?"
"You seemed down when you came in."
That obvious?
I touched my face—it felt normal. Or maybe—
"Did you read my mind?"
She dodged with a vague "Who knows?" like she'd been caught. Probably spot on.
Originally, Tachibana Saori's ability in the game was mind manipulation—a Special Grade esper power, one of only twelve at the pinnacle of Academy City's six-tier pyramid. The ultimate psychic.
I sighed softly and told her,
"It's nothing major, don't worry. Just a little work trouble."
Depending on the outcome, it could mean disciplinary firing, but with zero evidence—just a one-sided frame-up—I was confident I'd be cleared.
"...Okay. But if you need my help, say the word. I'm always on your side, Sensei."
She yielded first with that gesture, so I thanked her and instinctively stroked her hair.
Then I flinched and pulled back. "Sorry. Did that bother you?"
But she shook her head and grabbed my hand with both of hers, placing it back on her head like she wanted more.
Adorable.
Who'd believe this was the "Queen"? Anyone knowing the original story would freak. In part 1, she was a ruthless villain.
Well, this version's pretty great too.
Stroking her hair melted away the day's work stress like magic. I kept at it for a good while.