Chapter 57: The Power of “Oppa”

The employees buzzed as Tae-ha entered the basement cafeteria without any aides or secretaries. Some speculated it was a new management approach, while others whispered it might be due to the emotional toll of the recent impotence rumors following his broken engagement.

However, the consensus quickly leaned toward the latter when they noticed the wide grin spreading across his handsome face as he stared at his tray of stir-fried pork, kimchi pancakes, and soybean sprout soup. What could possibly be so amusing about lunch?

What they didn’t realize was that the source of his amusement was Jisoo’s voice streaming through the cafeteria speakers.

-We first met in school as seniors and juniors, and we’ve known each other for over ten years now. Is it too much to ask to hear “oppa” from him? If there’s a way, please tell me. I’ve tried everything to make him let me call him that…

Though Tae-ha wasn’t particularly empathetic by nature, today he found himself strangely resonating with this somewhat foolish story. After all, he was in a similar predicament—she only called him “Tae-ha” when she wanted something or when she was breathless on the bed, gasping out “Vice President Cha.”

“This guy’s got it made. He finally got our Ice Princess to call him ‘oppa.’”

Tae-ha turned his attention to the group disrupting his otherwise satisfying lunch. One of them must have been having a bad day—it was the same bunch giggling earlier in the hallway near the conference room.

“Of course, these guys always come up with clever ways to charm women. Making up fake girlfriends to send in stories like this?”

“At the end, Jisoo even wrote that she’d support and comfort us by sweetly calling us ‘oppa.’ Caw caw caw, quiet now! Listen, Han Jisoo’s about to call someone oppa.”

The noisy chatter around the table fell silent instantly.

“What’s going on? Why did the broadcast stop?”

“Why did the announcement cut off?”

Most employees hadn’t even realized the interruption in their lunchtime broadcast until Tae-ha, who had successfully orchestrated the incident, walked out of the equipment room.

Even if it was part of her job, there was no way he could tolerate hearing her call someone else “oppa” while his ears were wide open. Especially since he’d never heard her use that term before—not once.

He should’ve blocked this kind of thing beforehand. Or maybe just canceled the lunchtime broadcasts altogether. Not out of jealousy, of course, but purely for employee welfare—eating together was important.

Lost in thoughts of various measures, Tae-ha didn’t even realize he was heading to the third-floor studio. It wasn’t until he reached the door and came face-to-face with Jisoo, who had just finished her broadcast, that he understood the emotions stirring within him since morning.

“You look good.”

A perfect lie. Jisoo looked gaunt, her already slim frame reduced to skin and bones after the stress of the lawsuit and her mother’s contract ordeal.

It had been a week since he last saw her properly, aside from brief visits to her home.

That day, she had surrendered herself to him completely, which unsettled him—but fearing she’d run away, he couldn’t hold her tighter.

“What brings you here?”

“The person I keep calling for kept summoning me.”

Dry words spilled effortlessly from his indifferent expression, grabbing and pulling at Jisoo’s heartstrings. Though she knew he was capable of such teasing remarks, her heart still fluttered every time.

They sat down at a cozy table set up like a lounge on the third floor.

“Well… I don’t think I ever called Vice President Cha.”

“No, you did. You said ‘oppa.’”

His unexpected response caught her off guard, loosening the tension gripping her chest. A greedy thought crept in—if she couldn’t resist or escape anyway, wouldn’t it be fine to stay by his side like this?

Why were so many men fixated on being called “oppa” today? Believing Tae-ha hadn’t heard the broadcast, Jisoo chuckled softly.

“Oppa. Oppa? Oppa!”

Tae-ha’s relaxed posture shifted slightly, his expression tightening like a flower bud trembling before blooming.

“I didn’t hear you clearly. Say it again.”

Sitting so close they could almost touch, in the quiet third-floor studio, how could he claim not to hear her after she’d shouted it three times? That puzzled her more than anything.

“Like this, oppa?”

Finally, the smile lingering on his lips spread fully across his face. So this was the magic word—”oppa”—for him.

“Should oppa buy you lunch?”

“Stop it. It’s weird.”

The deep timbre of his voice saying the word was pleasant yet overwhelming.

“Or would you rather kiss your oppa?”

“Why do you keep acting like you’re my oppa? I’m an only child—I don’t have one.”

Tae-ha smirked, recalling her solitary childhood without parents or siblings.

“Choose—eat lunch with me, or eat me instead.”

As usual, Tae-ha excelled at presenting bizarre options.

“I have a meeting with a new client at 2 p.m., so I planned to eat gimbap quickly.”

“That works. I like gimbap too.”

“It has Cheongyang peppers, so it’s very spicy. Will you be okay with that?”

Jisoo adjusted the delivery app order, adding a basic gimbap for Tae-ha.

“It won’t be as spicy as what I’ve felt lately.”

Her gaze lifted as she processed the meaning behind his words.

“It’s been very spicy—the time I haven’t seen you.”

Their awkward eye contact mingled with heated breaths, prompting Jisoo to stand up. She needed to do something before the gimbap arrived.

“Would you like coffee? There aren’t many tea options, but I can check if you want.”

Tae-ha grabbed her hand as she passed, caressing her slender wrist as though it held a desperate wish. His gaze followed her smooth, pale hands upward, settling on her face.

“Is gimbap really enough? No wonder you’re so thin. Even if it’s just one meal, you need to eat properly.”

“I eat well.”

“You do, but why does your face look like this? Like someone who cried all night and hasn’t eaten.”

The lightness of his tone amused her, and she smiled faintly. Had their relationship ever been close enough to warrant calling it a breakup?

“Come to the officetel tonight.”

“Yes.”

As always, simple requests and short answers. His tone implied she’d discarded all her feelings and opinions for his desires, setting boundaries while leaving a small gap—a space that wouldn’t fully close, driving him mad.

The phone on the table buzzed briefly, prompting Tae-ha to release her hand.

“The gimbap must have arrived. I’ll go get it.”

Jisoo rubbed her wrist, brushing away the lingering sensation of his touch, and left the studio.

________________________________________

[Han Jisoo, Team Leader of Public Relations Planning, Appointed as Team Leader of the Message Team in the Innovation Strategy Department’s Secretary Office.]

The next day, the personnel notice posted on the bulletin board made Jisoo the center of gossip. Employees with vivid imaginations speculated about the special relationship between her and Tae-ha.

Surprised by the sudden appointment, Hee-kyung expressed heartfelt congratulations tinged with envy. Others who were close to Jisoo reacted similarly.

The Innovation Strategy Department was directly under Vice President Tae-ha and was considered a powerhouse division within the group—an entity operating under its own rules, akin to a separate company.

Moreover, the Message Team handled high-level strategic information and business plans, subjecting candidates to rigorous background checks and Tae-ha’s meticulous selection process.

Given the rewards that came with the position, everyone wanted in, but few qualified. Jisoo’s promotion to Team Leader was unprecedented for a recently renewed contract employee.

Holding the bulletin board notice like a challenge, Jisoo hesitated before sending him a text late in the afternoon.

[If you have time now, I’d like to see you.]

Tae-ha glanced at her indignant message just as he was getting up for an executive meeting. Smiling contentedly, he decided against torturing her overnight, remembering past experiences where delaying only made things harder for him.

[I’m heading out for a meeting.]

[Just 10 minutes.]

[The parking lot.]

Their rapid-fire exchange ended abruptly. Predicting Jisoo’s reaction, Tae-ha waited cheerfully for her next move.

Her fiery defiance always pleased him more than her compliance. Perhaps that’s why he kept provoking her, becoming an expert at pulling her closer exactly where he wanted her.

[Understood. I’ll head to the parking lot now.]

Tae-ha instructed his driver to wait 30 minutes before coming out, then headed to the parking lot. Sure enough, Jisoo had arrived early, waiting for him. From the start, she’d been the peculiar type who flared up angrily whenever he tried to help.

“I worked hard and gave my best in my previous position. If there’s something lacking, I believe formal procedures should be followed…”

“This area is technically my private zone, but passing cars can probably hear our conversation quite well. Don’t you care about hiding our closeness?”

With polite demeanor, Tae-ha opened the car door, inviting her in. Jisoo climbed into the backseat, followed closely by Tae-ha, who settled beside her.