4. Consent Form (2)
“Next up... hmm, that shy-looking young lady over there. Oh wait, scratch that. I hear calling someone that these days gets you in trouble. So, miss—er, you there, um... Hwang Eun-hye. Anyway, come on over.”
The timid woman, Hwang Eun-hye, went through the same process as Ko Kyung-min. Her fountain pen nib was silver, too.
“Oh, silver nib here as well! Congrats! Let's see... aptitudes: containment, training, support. Hmm, not bad at all!”
Hwang Eun-hye hid her eyes behind her long bangs. She mumbled something in a small, faint voice—somewhere between “Yes” and “Yeah.”
“Hwang, that hurts my feelings. You're a proud member of Mirae Co., Ltd. now—gotta answer with confidence!”
“Y-yes. Y-yes.”
“A bit short still. Louder!”
She glanced at Kang Mi-young like she was checking for permission. Kang sighed and nodded.
“Yes—!”
“Perfect! That's it! Good job!”
Kim Jun-sik slapped Hwang Eun-hye's shoulder with a hearty thwack-thwack.
“Eek, uh, eek...”
Hwang Eun-hye trembled so pitifully it made anyone watching feel sorry for her.
It felt like witnessing workplace bullying firsthand. And it hit harder because I'd been the target not long ago.
Is he doing this on purpose? No way.
A department head should still remember what it's like being on the bottom rung. Why act like that?
...Actually, every department head I'd met so far pulled the same crap. Would I turn into one of them once I climbed the ladder?
No time to ponder how seniority eroded empathy for underlings.
Kim Jun-sik called my name next.
“Alright, time to flip over today's highlight? Oh assistant manager? Step forward.”
Kim looked oddly excited.
“You watched how it's done, right? Wanna give it a shot yourself?”
He handed me the questionnaire.
I fed the questionnaire and thank-you card into the copier. Kim added,
“Hit that button there. No, not that one—the one above. Yeah, that.”
His constant chatter from the side made me tense—I fumbled the button like I had the shakes.
It didn't take long for the papers and fountain pen to emerge.
> Copying completed.
“Wanna check it yourself this time? Hand over the papers... here, the pen.”
The fountain pen Kim passed me felt strangely heavy. Its surface was cool, jet-black monochrome, but somehow antique.
“...Opening it.”
I swallowed hard. Kim Jun-sik bobbed his head eagerly. Even Kang Mi-young, who'd been indifferent to the first two, watched with real interest now.
I uncapped it.
A radiant glow spread in the dim light.
“...Gold nib!”
The outburst came surprisingly from Kang Mi-young, not Kim Jun-sik.
“Jackpot! A gold nib! How many years has it been? The youngest to hit assistant manager... no, not now. Kim Jun-sik? What's the aptitude?”
“Hold on. Lemme read it. Let's see, let's see...”
Both sounded thrilled. Kim Jun-sik scanned the paper fast. Meanwhile, Kang Mi-young muttered,
“Planning? Future Strategy? Audit or Finance? Or Field Special Ops...?”
Her rapid-fire words never left my eyes.
It was heavy scrutiny. Too intense—even averting my gaze felt conspicuous.
Luckily, it didn't drag on.
“Whoa!”
Kim Jun-sik let out a whoop.
“Follow-up Special Ops! Elite of the elites! Congrats, Oh!”
Follow-up Special Ops? No clue what they did from the name. But Kim's tone suggested real clout.
“At this rate, you might beat me to department head? Should I butter you up now?”
Kim winked. It was one of those awkward questions—tough to answer.
Luckily, I knew the drill.
Play dumb when the boss puts you on the spot.
“Haha... no way.”
“Too modest! Anyway, do your best! Hook me up when you make it big, yeah?”
“Of course.”
Kim Jun-sik patted my shoulder, beaming.
Dodged that bullet.
Still.
In a company where transfers and special hires dropped like flies...
...the elites.
Should I be happy about this?
Who knows.
But I couldn't deny the tickle of pride in my chest.
Craving validation had trumped the fear of death.
Humans really are sly creatures.
“...Follow-up Special Ops?”
An ominous voice cut in right then.
“No way? Kim, you sure it's Follow-up Special Ops?”
Kang Mi-young stared with a stiff expression.
Something was wrong. Her face screamed it.
“Huh? Wanna see? Here—Follow-up Special Ops. Clear as day, four letters.”
“...My god.”
Nothing good about that reaction. As unease crept in,
“What's up? Something wrong? True, grunts there start at assistant manager level. Tough for a fresh newbie... but hey! Trust the company, right?”
Kim bluffed cheerfully.
“It's not that...”
Kang Mi-young's eyes flicked between me and the paper. She had something to say.
But it never came.
“No, nothing.”
“What? Lame.”
Kim chuckled and turned back to me.
“Take this, Oh. Sign at the bottom. Gotta test the new pen, right?”
I took the paper. It listed my details and a complex aptitude graph.
That wasn't the point.
My eyes dropped to the end.
Recommended Department: Follow-up Special Ops
Do you consent to the above personnel transfer?
Yesterday's words flashed through my mind again.
‘...I get why you hate me. But, but... you gotta listen. Never, ever say yes to it. G-got it?’
Her desperate plea—now I understood.
Grind. My teeth ground together.
“Oh? You okay?”
Kim's concerned voice.
My right hand throbbed from gripping the pen.
“...No, it's nothing.”
I brought the nib to the paper. First time using one—smooth write.
The choice was easy. No hesitation, no agony. Hell, no second thoughts. Was I always this decisive?
“Haha! Great, everyone! No take-backs now, got it?”
Kim Jun-sik crowed happily as he took the consent form.
My mark? Obviously Yes.
“Well... it's already quitting time! Time flies, huh? Oh yeah, it's Friday today? Rest up this weekend—see you Monday!”
That was Kim Jun-sik's parting shot.
The follow-up “Whew, what a fulfilling day!” and “See ya, Kang!” defied description.
No one could stop a salaryman's end-of-day nonchalance.
Not even Kang.
“Check your company email Monday when you clock in. Folks with strong team matches start rotations tomorrow. Three months probation, then permanent assignment.”
“Anything else...?”
Ko Kyung-min asked. Kang waved him off.
“Your seniors will fill you in. Or the team leads.”
Was it cool to brush it off like that?
Kang seemed strict at first, but now she came off as a flake.
As I snuck a side-eye at her,
“Oh, and Sung-jin...”
My attention snapped. Did she call me? Nah, no way...
Tense, I watched her. She said,
“...yeah, everyone needs a wash first. Clean up, then head out. Know where the showers are?”
Why couldn't she just spit it out!
Oblivious, Kang continued.
“Use the freight elevator on your way out. Wandering around like that gets messy if someone's seen. Gym clothes are in the locker room—wear those.”
With that, she waved like Kim had and left.
“...”
“...”
“...”
Awkward silence hung. None of us were the social type.
We'd be stuck there till nightfall, eyeing each other.
I broke first.
“Shall we hit the showers?”
We headed there, swapping contacts en route.
“Call if you need help later. Owe you my life today.”
“M-me too.”
“No biggie. Same to you both.”
We split at the lockers.
Private booths spared us mutual nudity with Kyung-min.
Shhhhh—
Warm water hit, amplifying the fatigue.
I closed my eyes, watching blood swirl down the drain.
Shower done: exactly 6:35.
Locker room gym clothes—perfect fit. Creepy.
Stuffed my bloodied suit into the eco-bag beside.
“Gotta toss this...”
My first suit.
Shoving aside regret, I left the locker room.
Suit disposal could wait. Right now, exhaustion screamed for home.
Rushing to the elevator—
“Oh assistant manager.”
Familiar voice.
Kang Mi-young leaned against the locker room wall, eyeing me.
Not clocked out?
“Got a sec?”
...Instinct hit. She was here for that unfinished talk.
Making us shower and leave was to send Ko Kyung-min and Hwang Eun-hye ahead.
Best play here?
...Play clueless.
I feigned ignorance.
“Something you need...?”
Kang Mi-young mimed tilting a glass.
“Let's grab a drink and chat.”
I don't drink. But no refusing.
“...Sure.”
Gut said this talk mattered.
Straight to the parking garage.
Kang stayed silent the whole way, speaking only at her car.
“Hop in. Passenger seat.”
...Wanna go home.
Just like that, exhausted commuter became kidnap victim of another department's boss.