Back to Salaryman 1
My heart pounded the moment I clicked. Was that comment just some random jumble of consonants and vowels? After clicking, I nearly passed out.
I almost cheered out loud, thrilled to find another survivor. The casual tone suggested it was one of the forum users. Tears welled up at the thought. Before replying, I logged in.
I hoped my advice would help someone. I waited for a response from the guy. Five minutes staring at the monitor. No reply—he must not be at his computer. Desperation crept in; I desperately wanted to chat with another survivor.
Please, please... know what's going on here...
I opened Notepad to prep a convo with HardAsRock, pounding random keys to loosen up my fingers.
asdjklqwert yuiopzxcvbnmfdsa ghlkjpoiuy trewqasdfg hzxcvbnm,./';[]\
That's when I heard footsteps behind me.
"Oh..."
Department Head Choi Dong-jin, Agent Kim, Gu Mirae, and Manager O Yo-han stood circled around, staring at my typing in shock. Shit. Lunchtime already.
Our department had a lunch tradition: surround anyone still working to pressure them into wrapping up for a group meal.
"It's noon sharp! Time to eat. We work to live, not the other way around."
Choi Dong-jin's corporate culture. His philosophy of "punching out on time is skill" shone through. Thanks to it, my speed-typing got busted. They'd all struggled over single keystrokes, so they knew how insane this was.
The shells' shocked faces were identical: eyebrows shot up to their hairlines, eyes wide, mouths forming a soft "O." One of the four expressions shells could muster: surprise.
Clap clap clap clap.
Choi Dong-jin started applauding, and the others joined in. Impressed by my typing, apparently. I flashed a Joker Smile. The applause wouldn't stop. Guess my "pathetic feat" made me Employee of the Month.
# # Company cafeteria.
No chatter, just the metallic clink of cutlery on trays. The once-bustling cafeteria felt like a midnight library. Eating with their vacant stares was torture.
Choi Dong-jin and O Yo-han chewed slowly. All shells. Gu Mirae, picky eater, set her tray down after a few bites. I knew exactly why. Shells mimicked personal habits too. She hated the company cafeteria—always dragged me out for salads or ate alone. Countless times.
Lunch with colleagues. No laughs, no talk. Suffocating. Every time Gu Mirae looked at me, she'd tuck her ear-length hair, eyes widening. Knowing it was her cutesy gesture made swallowing rice impossible.
Designer Gu Mirae: 165cm, slim glamazon. Hime-cut suited her puppy-faced cuteness; she was office popular. Especially her eye-smile, eyes vanishing adorably.
Agent Kim, our department's sole bachelor, had a crush. He'd hit on newbie Gu Mirae and got shot down. Learned it buying him drinks after. A month ago, she passed out wedding invites. Bought him drinks again then.
But if Kim knew the truth...
[221, 0, 162]
Huge numbers. If Jin Sun-mi was an anal virgin, Gu Mirae was vaginal virgin. Other holes used.
"How the hell is that possible?"
Her wedding's probably this Saturday. Invite on my desk—gotta check. Not sure if shells actually marry. Wonder how they mimic it. Do they even grasp marriage?
Choi Dong-jin stood with his tray; everyone followed. Subordinates mimic the boss. Routine shit.
What if they knew President Kim Myeon-hyeong was under me? Then what?
That's when Gu Mirae's stomach growled loudly. Obvious. Short appetite, never eats here. Just pretending now. Her routine—salad shop out front—broken by company culture. Organization over individual.
Real bubbly Gu Mirae would've yelled, "Boss! I'm grabbing salad! Enjoy your lunch!" Bold and honest.
But this one submitted to Choi Dong-jin's pushy meal. Ah!
I realized: organization trumps personal desire and routine. Oxytocin bonds prioritize group over self! Salarymen obey superiors first. Same as Kim Myeon-hyeong and Jin Sun-mi loyal to my orders.
If I were president... would all shells obey me? Intriguing. Possible. Though the fog-dwellers wouldn't let it slide.
Exposing myself nationally? Too risky. My conclusion.
Lunch break had 1 hour 20 left. Two-hour lunches? Great company. Minus the asshole prez.
Plenty of time. How far would a subordinate go on a boss's order? Test limits on a normal drone.
Subject: Gu Mirae, shaking her ass ahead of me.
I grabbed her hand mid-stride. Soft and warm. She froze, shocked face turning to me. Eyes wide, mouth "O."
Shocked I held her hand. Joker Smile, I tugged. She followed. Obeyed perfectly.
Stopped? Joker Smile tug again. Now she trailed steadily. Body language: powerful comms tool.
Salad shop out front—her fave. Ordered easy: point, fake card swipe.
At table, Gu Mirae Joker-Smiled at me. Happiness smile. I remembered her salad love. She dug in happily. Me too.
Every eye-lock, Joker Smile barrage. Nearly choked—had to avoid her gaze till she finished.
Knew she liked me; babied her as newbie.
Post-meal, grabbed Americanos, strolled. Her fave post-lunch walk. Did it often as newbie.
Memories bloomed. Then—she quietly grabbed my hand. Off-routine. Joker Smile down at her. She looked up, Joker Smile, cheeks flushed.
What? Shells have emotions? Massive dopamine theoretically possible...
No way?
Hand-in-hand stroll. Her hand extra soft. Profile stunning: balanced nostrils, high bridge.
Flashback: her crying. "I didn't get surgery! Waaah! It's my real nose. Agent Kim, you're mean!"
Teased her pretty nose; tears flowed. Lost points with her.
Ancient history now. Clueless Kim and cute Gu Mirae gone. Just demons in their shells. Ghosts of past desires lingering.
Glossy plump lips begged for a kiss. Couldn't stop side-eyeing. She'd always been this pretty. Wife kept my eyes off others.
Gu Mirae: loved and raised right. Givers. "Agent! Take your wife here—tickets, can't go myself."
"Happy birthday! Chocolate—eat alone, not with wife. Promise! I made it."
Tracked my bday. Handmade Valentine's chocolates.
"Your wife's a total beauty! Wow."
"Wanna marry soon, get a pretty wife too. Hehe!"
Envied my wife's pic. Tucking ear hair, puppy eyes at me. Respect turning affection. I pretended not to notice—for wife's sake.
Her kindness was infatuation. If I'd married Gu Mirae? Unlike wife, total devoted bride?
[221, 0, 162]
Dunno. Strolling hand-in-hand felt like secret office romance.
Regret not dating pre-shell. Soothed it by admiring her profile.
She turned, Joker Smile. I returned it.
Well-kept walkway amid skyscrapers. Other couples too. Mostly suit-wearing office drones—finance bros, corp slaves. Shells mimicking salarymen.
What do they live for? Know happiness? Gu Mirae's: lunchtime salad? Made her day—maybe her savior?
Tomorrow: solo lunches with her. Seems she likes me... office romance viable? Late, shell-only, but happy work life?
Lunch over, work resumed. Typing ace me flooded with emails. Gibberish subjects/content galore. Kindly replied—with nonsense typing.
asderqwa;sdfg hjklzxcvbnmqwert yuiop[]\;
Emails = all work is. But Gu Mirae's different. Can't even open Photoshop menus.
Help her? Post-date, more invested. Stood behind, watching.
Adorable. Tiny hand on mouse, hovers top File menu. Clicks, scrolls down menu. Hesitates, clicks elsewhere—closes.
"Oh."
Shocked. Eyebrows visible from back. Repeats: File hover-click, hesitate-scroll, click away.
"Oh."
Loop city. Newbie fluster flashback. Taught her weekends—even fun then. Good times.
Mouse to File—hesitant hover mimics newbie perfectly.
How call her demon?
Tap shoulder. Startles, turns—beams at me. Creepy Joker Smile. Mine back.
Hand over hers on mouse. Warm tiny palm under mine. Guided: File > New (N).
Blank canvas pops; she "Oh"s shocked. Repeat a few times.
"Oh."
Released. Watched. Her hand traces my path exactly—even shaky laser fails.
File click, smooth New. Blank canvas!
Clap clap clap clap. Joker Smile applause from behind. She turns, beaming Joker Smile. Eerie ear-to-cheek grin, but eyes screamed: "Look, Agent! I did it!"
Newbie Gu Mirae reborn. Then—blank face, jumps up, grabs my hand. Drags me!
Mimicking my method. To the pantry. Door open-shut.
Grateful coffee? But—what the—? Pushed me against the wall hard.