The Quiet Before Exit

The executive office door, where the guest had just entered, remained silent.

Even without any loud noise, the people in the secretary’s office barely dared to breathe.

Everyone sat at their desks, pretending to work diligently while staring at their monitors.

Even the sound of a mouse clicking felt irritating.

Despite everyone being exactly where they should be.

I had been staring at the light on my desk, wondering if I might be called, when I lifted my eyes and saw the man who had come with the guest.

Even though he must have noticed my gaze, he didn’t waver.

He kept his eyes fixed near the executive office door, his head slightly lowered.

Though no one was watching him, his tense shoulders looked stiffer than his well-tailored black suit.

I felt a faint sense of pity for him.

Then suddenly, the door opened.

It opened slowly, and a tall man stepped out.

He resembled the executive director, though his jaw was slightly slimmer and his shoulders narrower.

Unlike how carefully he had opened the door, he shut it harshly.

Even so, the heavy door didn’t slam wildly—it simply closed with a dull thud.

Then he strode straight toward my desk across from him.

I had already stood up to greet him, so I gave a slight bow.

I had assumed he would leave with his attendant, but he stopped in front of me.

So today, it was me.

Bracing myself, I raised my head slightly, putting on a subtly puzzled expression.

The man’s face was flushed red, and he struggled to contain his heavy breathing.

The next moment, the calendar and pen holder on my desk were swept aside by his hand, crashing loudly to the floor.

“Hey.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’m easy to deal with too? Half-bowing like that?”

“I greet all visitors this way. There was no other intention.”

“You’re just a damn gatekeeper. You think I’m easy, don’t you?”

Lowering my gaze again, I saw the back of his hand pressing against my desk.

Even at Hanshin, only direct family members could behave this recklessly in front of Executive Director Jung Won-woo.

And among them, only the infamous second son—known for being completely unruly—would act this way without restraint.

It would pass anyway.

Every time he got scolded by the executive director, he would come here and stir trouble in the secretary’s office—it wasn’t the first time.

Still, at least today he hadn’t picked a fight with Nara.

Sure enough, the bastard who had knocked over the frame was already finishing his tantrum.

Even if he raged, with just one door separating him from his older brother, this was his limit.

“These secretary office bastards don’t even know how to apologize.”

I briefly considered apologizing, even now.

But then he would probably ask what exactly I was apologizing for and pick another fight.

I remembered how Secretary Kang had fallen into that trap last time.

While I hesitated, his footsteps faded away along with his attendant.

Something else clattered as he left.

Only after the soft sound of the glass door closing did I let out a long breath and straighten up.

Nara, who had been fidgeting behind me, rushed over first.

Secretary Kang followed.

Together, we picked up the items scattered under the desk one by one.

We gathered the spilled pens, and I roughly stuck the fallen sticky notes back onto the calendar before placing it on the desk.

Secretary Kang clicked his tongue, while Nara carefully set the fallen frame upright, looking visibly upset.

Looking at it now, he hadn’t even touched the stack of documents.

How petty.

Unable to touch anything belonging to his brother, he vented his anger on us instead.

Outside, people avoided him like a mad dog, but he didn’t really feel threatening.

At this point, it was more tiresome than frightening.

“Ugh. He acts like that every time he gets scolded by the director.”

“Nara. He can hear you inside.”

“Has he grown that much?”

Secretary Kang gave a small nod, cautioning her as well.

The chief had gone down earlier for a strategy planning meeting, so he hadn’t witnessed this scene.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Just then, the light on my desk turned on.

A call from inside.

Nara mouthed silently,

“He didn’t hear that, right?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll go in.”

The executive director wasn’t sitting at his desk by the window, but on the sofa closer to the door.

The coffee I had brought earlier was still untouched.

He sat with his long legs crossed and gestured for me to come closer.

As I approached, I saw that the coffee hadn’t been touched at all.

He briefly rubbed the corner of his eyes, then looked up at me.

Rather than tired, he seemed slightly annoyed.

“Geonwoo was making noise outside.”

“It seems I displeased him. I’ll be more careful.”

Apparently, my answer didn’t satisfy him.

He lifted his hand from his knee and rubbed his eyes again.

“He did that to you?”

“Yes.”

“Before, he would do that to Secretary Kang or others nearby.”

“It depends on the moment.”

“I see.”

His cold gaze swept over me.

Literally—from head to toe.

As his eyes slowly moved, I felt like a dissected frog.

Or rather… that comparison was forced.

What came to mind first was the raw look in his eyes from the bed.

After just a few nights, I could already tell the difference.

I buried that thought quickly.

He wasn’t the type to show much at work—so what was this?

“Does Geonwoo ever get physical?”

“He only pushes things around. Nothing beyond that so far.”

“Still. I can’t just leave him to vent his anger on my people.”

Well… at least he released his temper like a child here.

Otherwise, he might cause trouble somewhere worse.

Not that he truly behaved like a child—but that was how he always seemed to us.

Outside, he barely managed to maintain his image.

Perhaps having reached his own conclusion, he simply asked me to go over his schedule again.

After informing him of the afternoon schedule, I stepped out.

The secretary’s office was busy cleaning up the aftermath.

Returning to my desk across from the executive office, I neatly arranged everything.

The glass of the frame holding my sister’s photo was slightly cracked.

Her bright smile, holding her two children beside her husband, remained intact.

Feeling guilty even for having a bad premonition, I carefully removed the glass shards.

As I wrapped them in paper to throw away, Secretary Kang and Nara lifted the partition between desks from both ends, adjusting it slightly.

It must have been knocked earlier as well.

The chief returned from the strategy meeting and spoke as he saw us cleaning up.

“What’s this? Rearranging the layout?”

“The director’s younger brother stopped by.”

“Oh dear. Call the facilities team.”

“It’s not that bad. He only messed up Secretary Yoon’s desk.”

“Tch.”

At Nara’s comment, the chief frowned as if hearing about a troublesome nephew.

But this wasn’t a nephew—it was the owner’s family.

After that brief reaction, he held back further comments and glanced at me.

I waved it off as nothing.

He nodded shortly and changed the topic, placing documents on the desk.

“It’s Friday. What’s everyone doing? The director’s schedule is light today. Secretary Kang?”

“I really have to go on my date today. Last time I canceled, and it was a disaster.”

“Who said anything? I’m just asking. Nara?”

“Me? I don’t know. Must be nice having a date.”

“You always have reporters calling you.”

“What would I even do with reporters? They’d love it if I called them the moment an article drops.”

After confirming it wasn’t about a team dinner, Nara relaxed.

Then her gaze naturally shifted toward me, as if passing the baton.

“What about you, Secretary Yoon?”

“I’ll see after checking the director’s schedule.”

“Isn’t he going to inspect the hotel renovation this afternoon? Doesn’t that mean we can’t leave early?”

“No, that’s personal. Not related to the electronics division.”

At the chief’s clarification, I smiled faintly and continued arranging my desk.

Lining up the documents and placing the pen carefully, I must have looked borderline obsessive.

But with nothing to say, I filled the silence with small actions.

Normally, I’d read the room and leave at an appropriate time.

But today was Friday.

Overtime with him was usually on Fridays—or Saturdays.

He had said weekends, so Sunday was possible too, but there wasn’t enough data to predict a pattern.

Since he hadn’t said anything, did that mean we wouldn’t meet this week?

Or… was it already over?

As I sat down and began drafting his opening speech for the semiconductor line groundbreaking ceremony, my mind wandered.

Next-generation ultra-fine line, six trillion per line.

China’s investment projected at eighty-six trillion.

To counter that, next-generation competitiveness…

My thoughts kept unraveling and mixing as I typed.

Each hesitation stretched the afternoon further.

Nara’s clear voice echoed as she handled calls from media outlets and the PR team.

The afternoon sunlight deepened into a reddish hue, casting long shadows across the office floor.

Then the door opened.

The executive director stepped out, jacket on, clearly ready to leave for the day.

I snapped out of my thoughts and stood up a beat too late, greeting him.

“I’ll be leaving now. Secretary Yoon, come with me.”

“I’ll have the car prepared.”

“Front entrance.”

This time, I reacted quickly.

Saving the document and shutting down the computer, I grabbed my jacket and called the driver.

From the atmosphere, it didn’t seem like I’d need to return to the office.

After quickly saying goodbye to the others, I followed behind him.

The glass door was about to close, but I slipped through just in time.