JD 16

“M-Mr.Muheon didn’t punish you at all?”

“No… I was so shocked I stood in the rain, and he just dried me off with a towel.”

It was true. Although there’d been a minor misunderstanding with the man who thought he was a balding river dolphin, it hadn’t been anything serious. Still, maybe seeing the president like that had actually been a huge accident?

Hakyung’s heart pounded with anxiety. Bu Geunrim seemed even more shocked than he was, clutching his chest and trying to catch his breath.

The two of them stood there for a while, breathing heavily in silence, then glanced at each other and swallowed hard. Bu Geunrim was the first to speak.

“Hakyung, you were incredibly lucky yesterday. Like I said before, from now on, you mustn’t tell anyone what you saw about Mr. Muheon’s true identity.”

“Y-Yes!”

Hakyung straightened up and answered loudly, then mimed zipping his lips shut to show his promise. Only then did Bu Geunrim relax just a little.

From Hakyung’s limited perspective, he couldn’t understand why Bu Geunrim was acting like this. Maybe it was because he was a freshwater beastman and Bu Geunrim was a sea beastman.

The elders had always said sea creatures had a lot of secrets and dangerous types among them, so you had to be careful. Maybe they’d been right. Hakyung silently reaffirmed their advice in his mind. He decided from now on, he would never talk to anyone about the president.

“Then, um, I’ll go clean the office now.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Leaving behind a still pale-faced Bu Geunrim, Hakyung headed to the restroom.

Watching Hakyung’s back as he walked away, Bu Geunrim let out a long, heavy sigh. There was no doubt about it—Hakyung had been truly blessed with divine luck.

To witness Mr. Muheon performing his rite and still be walking around unharmed… it was a miracle that hadn’t occurred once in all the hundreds of years Muheon had ruled the West Sea. Anyone who had even slightly interfered with his work had always ended up facing calamity.

It wasn’t because Muheon had a particularly cruel nature—imugi¹a creature from Korean mythology—a kind of serpent or dragon-like being. It’s often depicted as a lesser dragon or a proto-dragon that is still on its way to becoming a full-fledged dragon. naturally became violent when performing their work, seeing even the smallest living things nearby as enemies. That was why no one ever approached an imugi while they were carrying out their work. This wasn’t just true for the West Sea—it was the same in the East and South Seas as well.

“Amazing kid…”

So the fact that Hakyung not only came out unharmed, but that Mr. Muheon had personally dried his hair with a towel—it was both astonishing and terrifying. Just what had Mr. Muheon been thinking when he brought the river dolphin, Kang Hakyung, here?

As a mere servant, he could hardly fathom the grand intentions behind it. As always, Bu Geunrim interpreted everything through the lens of his absolute loyalty to Muheon. Carefully folding away the swelling respect in his chest before it burst out, he returned to the office.

Still quietly harboring envy for Hakyung—the one who’d seen Mr. Muheon’s dark and magnificent true form.

***

Far from getting the reaction he’d expected from Bu Geunrim, Hakyung’s shoulders drooped with disappointment. The employees’ efforts to protect the president’s pride were far more serious than he’d imagined. If that was the case, he had no choice but to go along with it.

To avoid slipping up and saying something he shouldn’t, Hakyung spent time cleaning the staircases where he wouldn’t run into any of the other staff.

By the time he finished sweeping and mopping every step from the first to the third floor, it was lunchtime. He remembered what Muheon had said that morning—come to the office after lunch. Hakyung neatly organized the cleaning tools in the supply room, then knocked on the inner office door.

“Mm,” came a low reply, and Hakyung turned the knob.

“I’m here.”

“Sit.”

Maybe it was because of Bu Geunrim’s reaction earlier, but even though he’d thought they’d gotten closer, the president suddenly felt distant and scary again. Awkwardly pulling his cap lower over his eyes, Hakyung sat down on the sofa.

Muheon sat down across from him, and the moment he did, the muscles in his thighs caught Hakyung’s eye. Hakyung swallowed hard. Wow… even his thigh muscles are insane. His eyes sparkled as they roamed Muheon’s legs. The feeling of unfamiliarity he’d had just three seconds ago vanished in a flash.

“Kang Hakyung.”

“Yes?”

“Mind looking up?”

Noticing that Hakyung had been blatantly staring at his lower half, Muheon waved a hand in front of his face. Snapping back to himself, Hakyung blinked. He didn’t even know what he’d been staring at or why—it was like he’d been hypnotized. By what, though?

Muheon brushed off whatever strange interest Hakyung had and got to the point.

“It’s been a week now. How is it? Think you can manage?”

At the question, Hakyung fidgeted with his fingers. He’d more or less expected it, but it was hard to give a clear answer. Thinking back over the past week, he felt like he could work here for not just one week but over ten years.

And yet, despite how great this workplace was, a creeping sense of anxiety built up more and more each day, chilling the back of his neck.

He knew nothing in life came for free, and that no job was truly easy. Even so, he couldn’t understand why the company president and the staff were being so overly kind to someone like him.

And so, up until today—marking the end of his first week—Hakyung still hadn’t been able to make a decision. He was afraid that if he kept working here, he’d get completely roped in, but the thought of going back to his hometown and constantly thinking about this company was just as scary.

“It’s doable, I guess.”

“I guess? Sounds like you’ve got some complaints?”

“N-No, not at all! The other employees are super nice, and you, sir… you’re a lot more decent than I expected.”

Some of his chattering responses were slightly irritating, but Muheon let them slide for now. You had to hear someone out till the end when it came to Korean.

“But my grandma used to say, nothing in life is easy, and the easiest money is always the riskiest. And that’s exactly what this feels like right now.”

“So what you’re saying is… the job is too easy and comfortable, so it feels like something dangerous must be waiting on the other side?”

“Yes, yes! Wow, you summed that up perfectly. I bet you got top marks in language on your college entrance exams.”

Muheon let out a scoffing laugh at what had to be the most underwhelming compliment he’d ever received. Hakyung chuckled along with him, his lips curling into a shy grin.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Yes, sir.”

Joking around like this wasn’t bad, but now wasn’t the time. With Hakyung’s backpack—which he’d practically confiscated—sitting beside him, Muheon asked again.

“So? Think you can handle it?”

“Ah, my backpack, please!”

“Answer the question first.”

If he said he was quitting after the one-week trial, it felt like the backpack would never return to his hands. Hakyung reached out with a miserable expression, but the president simply raised the bag higher, putting it further out of reach.

Feeling that cruel difference in height again… it stung. Hakyung puffed up his cheeks in frustration.

Muheon felt an odd urge to poke his puffed-up face.

“You can’t just take my backpack! You said you’d give it back after a week!”

“Hm, that’s true.”

“Yes! Please!”

Hakyung practically shouted as he reached again, and Muheon, without resistance this time, returned the backpack. Hakyung’s eyes widened—he hadn’t expected it to come back to him that easily. He quickly clutched it to his chest in case the man tried to snatch it away again.

This was his ticket out of here. And yet, Muheon had handed it back with such ease, as if it meant nothing.

That nonchalant attitude only heightened Hakyung’s sense of danger… and curiosity. Still hugging the bag tightly, he asked,

“Why did you give it back so easily?”

“What, how should I have given it back to make it feel harder?”

“Just a second ago, you were teasing me, lifting it up so I couldn’t reach…!”

Still pouting at the memory, Hakyung’s lips quivered. No doubt they were full of words he was holding back. The mere thought made Muheon’s mouth twitch with amusement.

He wiped the smile from his face with a casual sweep of his hand and shrugged.

“Either way, you’ll have to keep working to pay off the clothes I bought you.”

“…Huh?”

Hakyung’s eyes trembled like aspen leaves. Sure, he had gone a little crazy shopping that day… but still! That’s not what the man had said!

“You told me to just get them!”

“Yeah. I said you should just buy them. Since you’re going to be the one paying me back.”

That’s it! That’s what it was! The reason for that persistent chill down his spine! Hakyung clutched the back of his neck like he’d been stabbed.

It felt so unfair. He had said he’d return the stuff, and it was the president who stopped him and egged him on! So of course Hakyung thought the man was paying for it! Tears welled up in his eyes, and he stomped his feet in frustration.

“Aw, looks like Kang Hakyung got the wrong idea. I just said, ‘Don’t worry about it, just buy what you want’—because you could pay me back later.”

Watching Muheon’s gleaming black eyes that looked far too amused, Hakyung had no choice but to clutch his neck again.

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  a creature from Korean mythology—a kind of serpent or dragon-like being. It’s often depicted as a lesser dragon or a proto-dragon that is still on its way to becoming a full-fledged dragon.