Heat Beneath the Cold Morning

The morning of the briquette volunteer work came with an early chill—cold enough to make us reconsider the thickness of our coats.

Since the company insisted this was an external activity, a voluntary act of service rather than official work, there was no way they would have us carrying briquettes on a weekday.

As a result, from early weekend dawn, we were busy strengthening our “team spirit” by counting endless stacks of briquettes.

Truck after truck kept arriving, unloading what felt like an infinite supply.

Even stacking them neatly at the entrance of each alley was a task in itself.

Before the employees arrived, we checked the alleys where they would line up and counted everything again.

Nara had already arrived early and was coordinating with the PR team—deciding where the executive director would stand.

There would be plenty of photos, but his presence had to be captured most clearly.

We had already been informed that he returned late at dawn after attending some executive event the night before.

And yet, after that, he still had to carry briquettes this morning.

It was exhausting just thinking about it—both for us and for him.

What could he have been doing so late last night?

I shook my head deliberately and refocused on the chart in my hands.

The numbers—how many briquettes each house needed—kept slipping from my mind.

Employees began arriving in groups, taking their assigned positions.

Amid the chaos of attendance checks, word came that the director had arrived below.

Wearing the same navy tracksuit as everyone else, with the company logo on his chest, he walked up.

Step by step, his figure became visible as he climbed the stairs while speaking with the president.

Even his black sneakers fit perfectly, as if tailored to him.

With the zipper slightly lowered and the collar resting just below his jawline, he looked… different.

Nara, standing with her arms crossed, glanced at me.

“Secretary Yoon.”

“Yes?”

“His tracksuit… it’s not custom-made just for him, right?”

“…It might be.”

Before, I would’ve dismissed the idea—but after seeing the house he lived in and the people who worked for him, I couldn’t say for sure.

It wouldn’t be surprising if someone tailored his clothes to fit him perfectly.

Even though he wore the same uniform, it didn’t look the same.

The tracksuit fit his long, solid frame so perfectly that it highlighted his physique without looking tight.

I was sure I had ordered a larger size—how did it fit him so precisely?

Secretary Kang stood right beside him.

Next to Kang was Nara, then the chief—and then me.

My role was to pick up briquettes and pass them to the chief, starting the chain.

The schedule was supposed to end by lunchtime.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too long.

When the time came, everyone began passing briquettes along the line.

White gloves turned black almost instantly.

“Photos, please.”

Being at the front had its advantages.

I didn’t have to worry about my expression or posture—I just had to keep lifting briquettes.

But the downside was obvious.

Unlike the others who simply passed them along, I had to keep lifting them nonstop.

There was no time to rest.

If I stopped, everything stopped.

The pile of briquettes still looked like a mountain.

I paused briefly to stretch my back, but the chief immediately scolded me.

“Hurry up, Seogyeong. We can only eat once everything’s done.”

“Why don’t you try starting, then?”

“The beginning is always the hardest.”

“You admit that?”

“Of course. How many years do you think I’ve been doing this?

Keep going. It’s good for your back.”

I ignored the last part.

I suddenly remembered his story about jumping through a ring of fire during group training in the past.

I had thought it was exaggerated—but there were actual photos.

Real employees jumping through flaming rings.

Compared to that, he had said, we were living in better times now.

The morning had been cold, but once the sun rose, everything changed.

Sweat dripped down my forehead.

I wiped it carefully, trying not to smear coal dust on my face.

Even the chief, who had been teasing me, seemed slightly apologetic.

“Still, this is better.

At least we’re not running a charity bazaar—standing outside all day selling things in the cold.

Rice and kimchi are heavier than you think.”

“Thank you so much for explaining why this is better.”

I replied politely in mock gratitude.

Nara leaned forward from beside the chief.

“Secretary Yoon, should I switch with you?”

“No. You can’t.”

“I can do it.”

“It’s too heavy.”

No matter how exhausted I felt, I couldn’t let her take this spot.

As I lifted another briquette, I noticed Secretary Kang glancing at me.

If he wanted to stay in the director’s good graces, shouldn’t he stay by his side?

Why was he looking here?

Muttering internally, I kept working.

Eventually, the PR team gave the signal that they had enough photos.

Taking that chance, I straightened my back again.

My clothes were already ruined anyway.

“We’ve finished taking photos. Thank you for your work. We’ll move to another division.”

We all nodded and bowed politely.

Everyone understood—they had prioritized taking photos of the director first.

Now they would move on to other teams.

Resigned, I picked up another briquette.

Then, suddenly, the director’s voice came from above.

“Wait. Everyone move one step to the side.”

I turned as I set down the briquette.

He was removing his gloves and stepping out of position.

Naturally, we assumed he was about to leave.

Everyone shifted to fill the gap.

I remained where I was.

Facing us, he put his gloves back on and gestured toward me.

His complexion looked slightly flushed—but otherwise, he seemed perfectly fine.

If anything, he looked refreshed.

“Secretary Yoon. Move one more step.”

“…Pardon?”

“I’ll start. Move aside.”

Before I could respond, both the chief and Secretary Kang spoke at once.

“No, we’ll do it.”

“We were going to switch anyway.”

“It’s fine. This is too slow. Let’s finish quickly—it’s the weekend.”

“Secretary Yoon, step aside—”

“Move.”

At his firm instruction, I was pulled aside.

On that point, everyone agreed—remove me from the starting position.

Though there were some disagreements about the rest, they were quickly dismissed.

Standing beside him, I forced a smile and whispered,

“Director, I can just—”

“Take it.”

“Yes.”

And so it began again.

This time, it felt like the briquettes were being shoveled endlessly into my hands.

There was no time even to wipe the sweat now.

I could see droplets falling onto the black surface as I passed them along.

The chief’s face was flushed red, his breathing clearly labored.

If we had just rotated normally, it wouldn’t have been this intense.

Starting at nine, we finished before noon—far earlier than the expected one o’clock.

My arms throbbed, nearly numb.

My sides ached from strain.

The director removed his gloves, and I instinctively took them.

Meanwhile, Secretary Kang handed out wet towels and water bottles.

Even he looked exhausted.

We all sat down in a line on the steps at the entrance of the village.

The director, however, said he would check on another team and walked off.

The chief followed him, forcing himself forward.

The rest of us remained seated, completely drained.

Maybe that’s how people advanced—by pushing themselves like that.

By that standard, we were probably hopeless.

After a while, Nara stretched and groaned.

“Ah… I can’t even stand when he comes back.”

“Are you okay?”

“I feel like I’m dying.

Did he rush through this because he had another schedule?

He could’ve just left…”

“Secretary Kang, does he have another schedule today?”

I asked, unable to think of anything specific.

Kang looked at me briefly, then turned away.

“If you don’t know, then he probably doesn’t.”

“There could be family matters I’m not aware of.”

His tone was unnecessarily sharp.

I didn’t know how to respond.

This wasn’t something a grown adult should be doing.

I stood up, brushing off my already dirty clothes.

There was no point trying to fix it anymore.

Other teams at least wore raincoats—but we had skipped that for the sake of photos.

No laundry would accept these clothes.

As I wiped my hands again, I saw the director returning.

I stepped slightly aside.

The chief’s pale face beside him was… quite something.

“We’re having lunch before we leave, right? Let’s go.”

“This way.”