9. Watch Your Own Death! (1)
Eventful.
Tumultuous.
Chaotic.
Perplexing.
The day had finally ended, one that could be summed up by any number of four-letter words.
It felt like these kinds of days had become routine ever since I joined the Field Division.
It hadn't even been a full week yet. Truly astonishing.
...No. Actually, nothing about it surprised me anymore. I was just exhausted.
Right after clocking out.
I flew home and collapsed onto the bed without even washing up or changing clothes.
At that moment.
Rustle.
A plastic wrapper crinkled from the inner pocket of my suit.
I closed my eyes.
Memories are fleeting things.
...Third year of university, back when the news was full of talk about the crisis in the humanities, but no rescuers showed up to save it.
I was enjoying what they say is everyone's shining prime of life, but for some absurd reason, I'd gotten hooked on the humanities.
Of course, I wasn't born with some sacred mission to salvage a sinking discipline.
But I figured I was at least an aspiring rescuer.
My schedule back then was packed with lectures that had almost nothing to do with my major.
Humanities.
Humanities.
Humanities.
I'd built myself a stubborn tower of humanities courses.
'...'
Maybe it was the late-night mood, or perhaps even more absurdly, my current blah state of mind—but one of those old humanities lectures popped into my head.
Of all things.
Right now.
At this hour.
I think it was a class on writing novels or essays—or something in between.
Not memorable enough to stick.
Not even the name came to mind.
Just a vague fragment of memory, sharp with one particular piece.
It was a conversation with the professor.
"I read your piece. But there's something that bugs me a bit. This part here?"
The old professor—who was definitely not an adjunct—pointed to a section of the vague novel-essay I'd submitted as my final project alternative.
At the tip of his wrinkled finger, the word "suit" squatted awkwardly in block print.
"The word 'suit' feels a little off. Why don't you revise this part, student?"
As the professor said, it might have been an awkward word. But the awkwardness he and I felt was clearly different.
"To me, this part feels a bit dated. 'Suit'? That's something from my youth."
It was utterly baffling.
Because I'd never once thought of "suit" as outdated.
"Still, it's been a while since I've seen it. Suit. Suit. Quite an interesting word."
The awkwardness I'd felt about the word was simply its nuance rubbing me the wrong way.
"Hahaha. Anyway."
The professor laughed for some reason I couldn't pin down. Even now, I have no idea why.
Rustle.
Rustle.
The plastic.
"Think about a replacement word. I'll hold off on grading your submission. I've extended the deadline to 6 PM tomorrow—don't forget to turn it in."
Why was I thinking of that now, of all times?
Even pondering it again, I could only chalk it up to belated sentimentality.
Rustle.
Rustle.
Rustle.
...
"Don't forget your vitamins."
I opened my eyes.
Pulled out the vitamins. For something that had dredged up old memories, I felt surprisingly calm.
'...Looks normal on the outside.'
Lying there, I grabbed the ends of the packaging and peered at it, coming to that conclusion.
'If they say take it, they mean rip it open.'
I broke the seal with the bed.
'How did I end up...'
Along with my canned lament, I twisted the perforation line.
'...like this?'
Thud. Something fell from inside the wrapper.
It was a neatly folded note. Inside, handwritten:
Recommendation Code: GE-31-00077-def-23
→ Use when needed.
I dragged myself to work, bone-tired.
Last night, I'd spent the whole time agonizing over what that note meant, and hadn't slept a wink.
'In the end, I still have no clue what it is.'
I could only guess.
I punched in my ID card and headed up to the office.
The office revealed itself in the early morning's bluish light mixed with lingering dusk.
It was 7:30 now.
And Mirae Co., Ltd.'s official start time was 9:00.
That's right. Not only had I failed to sleep last night, I'd come in even earlier than usual.
As for my guesswork bordering on wild speculation.
'There's something I need to check.'
I sat at my desk and immediately logged into the welfare mall.
Still sifting through the bizarre items, I searched for anything like a "recommendation code," and soon realized my hunch was right.
'...No dice, as expected.'
The welfare mall was accessible to every employee in the company. A recommendation code made no sense there.
No shopping mall that didn't need more users would distribute referral codes.
'Which means... there's another mall somewhere.'
This was venturing into pure speculation territory.
I kept mulling it over, mindlessly scrolling the mouse wheel.
'And if I access that one...'
I might learn the full story behind Department Head Kang Mi-young's death.
'...But.'
The truth is.
The real truth.
I buried my face in my hands and leaned back in my chair.
'Do I really have a reason to go that far?'
Of course, Kang Mi-young's death bothered me.
She was a good person. Took care of me, encouraged me, even made a generous offer knowing my situation.
'But that doesn't mean...'
We weren't exactly close.
She and I were more acquaintances than anything—closer to strangers.
'Thinking coldly, the most I could do is pay a visit to the funeral.'
Standard condolence money: 50,000 won.
Eat some yukgaejang and plate of pressed pork, head home before the tea runs out, sleep it off, and forget. That's the level of our connection.
No deeper loyalty or bond.
That's all we were.
'I don't know.'
...My thoughts were a tangled mess. I stared at the monitor for a bit, scratched my head vigorously with both hands, then kicked off the floor.
Roll. The chair's wheels spun. The backrest bumped the wall. The monitor was distant. I crossed my arms, then sank back into the chair.
The dilemma deepened.
'Don't be such a pushover, kid...'
Section Chief Jo's advice wormed its way in, asserting itself.
'But it still feels off.'
I let out a deep sigh.
No conclusion. Table it. Let tomorrow-me deal with it. I give up. Thoughts like that flitted by.
Bang.
The office door flew open right then.
I shot up reflexively. I'm the junior here. Our division has just two people. The visitor had to be Section Chief Jo.
"Section Chief, you're ea—huh?"
It wasn't him.
"Who might you be?"
As I asked, the woman on the threshold tilted her head.
She peeked out, checked behind the door, tilted her head again, and fired back.
"And who are you?"
"I'm Oh Sung-jin, assistant manager. I was just assigned to Follow-up Special Duty Division."
"...Assistant manager?"
She tilted her head once more.
Maybe someone here on business?
"If it's work-related, feel free to tell me. I'll pass it on to the division head."
"No, that's fine. You're the new guy, right?"
"Yes. If there's anything I can help with..."
Wait.
New guy?
Then...
My thoughts were cut short.
Step, step, step. She strode right in. Her face was close. I felt under observation.
"Um..."
What are you doing? That's what I'd meant to say.
She thrust out her hand instead.
"I'm Ham Seo-yoon, department head. Follow-up Special Duty Division. Nice to meet you. Let's get along."
...My superior!
Realization hit, and I bowed slightly, clasping her hand with both of mine.
Keeping eye contact straight—no groveling impression.
This was business mindset ingrained in my body.
"Please take care of me, Department Head Ham Seo-yoon!"
"This new guy's got spirit. I like it."
Perfect. Good impression made. I smiled softly and drove it home.
"Yes, sir! I'll do my best!"
"Good, good. Hey, drop the formalities, okay?"
"Of course!"
"Alright, Sung-jin. Casual it is."
She patted my shoulder and grinned. Utterly sociable, everyday behavior.
The kind of thing a 'normal office worker' would do!
Maybe a stretch, but Ham Seo-yoon was a rare normal person in this company!
'How long has it been since I met one...'
Recalling everyone I'd met so far, I couldn't express how welcome it felt.
Song, the assistant manager, belonged in a psych ward, not an office.
Kang the department head was nice but treated lives like flies.
Section Chief Jo... good guy, but...
'Not exactly normal.'
Plus the curt Kyung-min and the hard-to-communicate-with Eun-hye. And no need to mention Deputy Choi Soo-jung!
Yes.
I'd finally met my first proper office worker since joining the Field Division!
'I missed them so much. Normal people...'
Who knew normal could feel this good.
"So, why'd you come in so early? Still an hour before start time."
As I trembled with emotion, Ham Seo-yoon spoke up again.
Good.
What to do?
Should I aim for an even better impression?
Say I came early to study handover files—paint me as an enthusiastic talent...
'...Wait, no.'
Her eyes were already on my monitor.
She knew exactly what I was doing when she asked. Lying would backfire.
Then, flip it—go for honest.
"I was checking the welfare mall. Looking for something useful for work."
Of course, I oiled the line a bit.
Mentioning work made it seem like I was proactively seeking company-benefiting items.
'Enthusiasm and honesty in one shot.'
With nothing better to use it on lately, why waste the silver tongue?
Had to put it to work somewhere.
"Hmm..."
My ploy worked like always.
Interest lit up in her eyes.
Not so much in me, more in whatever I might buy.
But that's fine. I had a killer move for this.
"Um, Department Head?"
"Yeah?"
"If it's not too much trouble, could I get your advice? I'm still new to the Field Division..."
Admit my shortcomings and ask for help.
Simple principle.
People love teaching others.
'Hell, they even pay for game coaching these days.'
No one hates giving guidance. Everyone wants to feel superior...
And nothing confirms superiority like teaching.
"Any must-buy items in the welfare mall?"
My ploy worked wonders again. Ham Seo-yoon readily replied.
"Sure, let's take a look."