RB - 20

After filling the emptiness in her heart with gukbap and expelling her tears through retching, 

Seo-yeon returned directly to the office. 

What awaited her were her colleagues’ suspicious glances—and the audit team. 

Two emotionless auditors packed Seo-yeon’s laptop into a blue box while Park Cheol-young, arms crossed, watched silently. 

Seo-yeon forced herself to maintain a composed expression, but it was no match for the frantic pounding of her heart. 

“Miss Han Seo-yeon, we’ve been waiting for you. As previously informed, we need your cooperation.” 

Park Cheol-young’s voice betrayed no hint of emotion, and Seo-yeon felt the weight of her reality sink in deeply. 

If she opened her mouth, her voice would surely tremble. 

Instead of answering, she nodded firmly to indicate her willingness to cooperate. 

In the distance, inside the office, a commotion was unfolding. 

“I’m the HR team leader! The HR team leader! I handle HR matters! This is overstepping!” 

The HR team leader scolded the audit team members in an angry tone, clearly unwilling to surrender his laptop without a fight. 

Park Cheol-young scratched his neck a few times before saying: 

“Miss Han Seo-yeon, please follow our team members.” 

He gestured toward the direction of the disturbance and walked away. 

Ten minutes later. 

Seo-yeon sat on the stiff chair of the assigned meeting room, tucking her loose strands of hair behind her ear. 

With all the blinds drawn and the lights turned off, the room was quite dim. 

Seo-yeon couldn’t help but think that this darkness might foreshadow her future. At the same time, she realized just how tense she truly was. 

“Did you wait long?” 

Park Cheol-young entered, his neatly waxed hair and sharply pressed suit exuding authority. 

“No.” 

Seo-yeon half-rose from her chair and bowed slightly. 

Watching her, Park Cheol-young took a seat across from her and said: 

“There has been a report of assault. I’ll ask a few questions, and all you need to do is answer truthfully.” 

He powered on his laptop as he spoke. 

“Yes, understood.” 

Anxiety seeped heavily through Seo-yeon’s voice. 

Her hard-earned career, her years of sleeping less and working more than others—everything tightened around her throat like a vice. Bi-ryu’s face flickered in her mind. 

Tap tap tap. Park Cheol-young typed rapidly on the keyboard and asked: 

“Yesterday evening, during the TF team dinner, the HR team leader, Director Jung, and Miss Kim Min-a were present. Who proposed this gathering?” 

“I suggested the dinner to Shin Jin-hyuk. I don’t know how the others ended up joining, but I assume Miss Kim Min-a proposed it.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“I had asked Miss Kim Min-a about the TF team’s dinner budget limit, and shortly afterward, this group was formed.” 

Tak. Park Cheol-young paused momentarily in his typing. 

Earlier that morning, Miss Kim Min-a had cited “the HR team leader attending the TF team dinner” as evidence of Han Seo-yeon’s alleged affair. 

In many ways, Miss Kim Min-a, the whistleblower, seemed increasingly suspicious. 

But the audit team’s role was simple: to investigate the case without emotion. Park Cheol-young’s questioning—or rather, interrogation—continued.

The sharp, emotionless tone of Park Cheol-young’s voice made Seo-yeon shrink involuntarily. 

“Did you physically assault the HR team leader?” 

“…Yes, I slapped his cheek.” 

“Why did you do that?” 

“He belittled me, saying I got things done because of my ‘decent face.’ He mocked me for relying on my looks during recent negotiations with the building owner and accused me of frequently going out drinking with reporters. I felt deeply humiliated.” 

Seo-yeon’s voice trembled noticeably at the end of her sentence. Park Cheol-young quickly typed her response into his laptop. 

“Did everyone present hear this? I’m asking if there were any witnesses or recordings.” 

Seo-yeon slowly closed her eyes and silently counted in her mind: One, two, three… four, five… She needed a moment to pause and think clearly. 

Miss Kim Min-a, the suspected whistleblower—she would lie if she testified, not confront the truth. 

Director Jung, who was close to the HR team leader—it was obvious he would claim he hadn’t heard anything. 

Finally, Shin Jin-hyuk—the part Seo-yeon worried about the most. 

She couldn’t use Jin-hyuk’s recording, and saying “Shin Jin-hyuk heard it” would put the new employee in direct conflict with his superior, Director Jung. 

Park Cheol-young waited patiently, but Seo-yeon eventually responded with disappointment: 

“…I can’t be certain. Everyone was drunk.” 

“Were you emotionally involved with the HR team leader?” 

“…Emotional involvement. Emotional…” 

Seo-yeon mulled over the question, her head bowed, before suddenly locking eyes with Park Cheol-young and sharply retorting: 

“What is the intent behind this question?” 

Her instincts screamed that something was off. 

“Just answer truthfully. It’s a perfectly valid question from the perspective of corporate risk management.” 

“…So this isn’t just about the assault report?” 

Park Cheol-young coldly countered Seo-yeon’s query. 

“I ask the questions, and Miss Han Seo-yeon answers them.” 

Though she knew she had to say something, no words seemed fitting. 

Seo-yeon recalled the beginning of her life—how she had been abandoned in front of the orphanage, tightly wrapped in a summer blanket. Once again, the world was forcing her to choose: overcome this obstacle alone or succumb and perish. 

Summoning every ounce of willpower, Seo-yeon gathered the courage to move forward despite her anxiety. 

It emerged as a firm voice from her lips: 

“No. I had no emotional involvement with the HR team leader. All our communications can be verified through emails and messenger logs. Most discussions in the meeting room are documented in minutes, which I will submit. While I acknowledge the assault, I ask that the severity of workplace harassment be taken into account.” 

At that moment, a lengthy messenger notification flashed on Park Cheol-young’s laptop. 

Simultaneously, investigations into the HR team leader, Miss Kim Min-a, Director Jung, and Shin Jin-hyuk were underway in separate meeting rooms. 

This message contained shared findings, and the content was devastating: 

―Director Jung and Miss Kim Min-a claimed they couldn’t remember conversations due to intoxication but vaguely recalled the assault. 

―Shin Jin-hyuk exercised his right to remain silent. 

―The HR team leader admitted to having a “mutual liking” relationship with Miss Han Seo-yeon but denied any physical involvement. 

It amounted to the HR team leader indirectly admitting to an affair. Regardless of the truth, the situation was entirely disadvantageous for Han Seo-yeon. 

From a corporate standpoint, the best course of action was to resolve the matter as quickly as possible. Typically, in such cases, the parties involved would be quietly summoned and encouraged to resign, closing the chapter. 

Park Cheol-young’s expression grew ominous, and Seo-yeon, watching him, felt a burning thirst like a sinner cast into a desert. 

At the same time, in a small meeting room.

The youngest member of the audit team, Mr Gong, was in a standoff with Shin Jin-hyuk. A battle of wills might be a more accurate description. 

A new employee undergoing an audit investigation? Normally, fear and submission would be the expected reaction. 

But starting with the declaration, “I will exercise my right to remain silent,” Jin-hyuk hadn’t uttered a single word beyond that. 

If he had simply stayed silent, Mr Gong wouldn’t have become so flustered—his face turning beet red. 

Instead, Jin-hyuk calmly exchanged texts with someone, his expression completely relaxed. 

Unable to endure it any longer, Mr Gong’s tiny, button-like eyes bulged as he snapped: 

“Shin Jin-hyuk, the disadvantages you’ll face from now on are… huh? Huh?” 

Click. The unexpected visitor who entered without knocking left him speechless. 

It was none other than Jung Seung-min, the star lawyer of South Korea’s top law firm, “Gahhan.” Known for his impeccable credentials and charming good looks, Jung Seung-min frequently appeared on television despite being in his late 30s. 

Mr Gong, familiar with Jung’s face, was first startled by his sudden appearance and then doubly shocked by the fact that he had shown up at an internal audit scene. Words failed him entirely. 

Jung slapped Jin-hyuk lightly on the shoulder and said: 

“Hey, did you really have to drag your hyung here? I already arranged everything with a retired chief judge, and now you’re suddenly changing plans?” 

Without sparing a glance at Mr Gong, he pulled a chair with a screech and sat next to Jin-hyuk. 

Only then did Jin-hyuk finally speak: “Let’s begin the investigation.” 

Jin-hyuk stared down Mr Gong, who was dumbfounded into silence. A flustered voice escaped Gong’s lips: 

“What… why is Lawyer Jung Seung-min here?” 

“Does that matter? Should I go back to exercising my right to remain silent?” 

Tak tak tak, tak. Only after Jin-hyuk mimicked closing his mouth again did Mr Gong hurriedly start typing up his statement. 

“That evening, we ordered two bottles of Yan Tai sorghum liquor. One bottle remained unopened. Miss Kim Min-a and I each had one glass, Director Jung had two, and the HR team leader drank the rest by himself.” 

“Yes, please continue.” 

“Director Jung’s usual alcohol tolerance is three bottles of soju. Even considering the difference in alcohol type, two glasses of Yan Tai sorghum wouldn’t cause memory loss. The same applies to Miss Kim Min-a.” 

As Mr Gong typed furiously, he stole nervous glances at Jung Seung-min. The lawyer, looking bored, rested his chin on his hand and closed his eyes, further shrinking Gong’s confidence. 

Gahhan Law Firm. Known as a group that would defend even criminals if the money was right, their success rate was unmatched. They were essentially legal thugs wielding the blade of justice. 

Protests with signs labeling Jung Seung-min as a “handsome monster hiding behind a gentlemanly facade” had made headlines more than once. 

Swallowing hard, Mr Gong asked a question, and Jin-hyuk cut in cleanly: 

“I have a few questions to ask—” 

“In short, workplace harassment directed at Miss Han Seo-yeon is crystal clear. It’s a fact everyone remembers.” 

“Uh… Shin Jin-hyuk cannot assume what others remember.” 

“That’s a suggestion. From the perspective of witness credibility. And—” 

After finishing his sentence, Jin-hyuk pressed a few buttons on his phone. 

“I’ve sent a file to your email. It’s a recording.” 

Jin-hyuk anticipated that the lowly witnesses, Director Jung and Miss Kim Min-a, would claim they didn’t remember, using shallow excuses. To undermine their credibility, he deliberately delayed revealing the existence of the recording. 

If they had known about the recording from the start? 

Director Jung and Miss Kim Min-a would never have risked lying to protect the HR team leader. 

Now, no matter how impartially the audit team tried to investigate, they couldn’t help but view Director Jung and Miss Kim Min-a through a lens of suspicion. 

Mr Gong let out a strained groan as he clicked his mouse a few times. 

“I’ve confirmed the file has arrived. But… why is Lawyer Jung Seung-min here?” 

He belatedly asked about Jung’s reason for visiting. Understandably so—after greeting Jin-hyuk, Jung hadn’t said a single word that sounded remotely “lawyer-like.”

With a somewhat drowsy expression, Lawyer Jung Seung-min slowly asked, “Where is my client?” 

Mr Gong, flustered, stared blankly at Jin-hyuk and gave an unspoken answer: Isn’t your client right there? 

Jung replied: 

“Han Seo-yeon. My client is Miss Han Seo-yeon. Before proceeding with a lawsuit regarding workplace harassment, I need to confirm a few details. There are three counts of sexual harassment and six violations of labor standards.” 

To Mr Gong, who still gaped in shock, Jung delivered his final blow: 

“If JB Company has an in-house legal team, I advise you to mobilize them immediately. Three more labor law specialists from our firm, Gahhan, will be attending. It would be wise to match our numbers.” 

Against the backdrop of Jung’s voice, Jin-hyuk closed his eyes quietly, thinking of Seo-yeon’s small, frail figure swaying weakly. He had momentarily left her alone to orchestrate the current arrangement but had prepared a gift to please her—a sacrifice. 

Twisted, shattered, and finely minced. A tragic, blood-soaked offering that he would lay beneath her feet like flowers as she walked. 

Enraptured, she would trample upon it and finally whisper into his ear: 

“Even if the whole world calls you a monster, even if they accuse you of such deeds… I will always be on your side.” 

Jin-hyuk slowly opened his eyes, savoring the lingering image of Seo-yeon. At the same time, an indescribable sadness welled up within him. 

A woman who made him—someone lacking in empathy—feel sorrow. 

He, crudely crafted from the leftover scraps of filthy genes, was certain of one thing: only by possessing Seo-yeon could he finally become complete.