In-Hyeop—the infamous Wraith of Blackout Division.
Soo-Hyuk—the legendary Nose of the Bloodhounds.
Two cold-blooded murderers, feared by many, silent specters lurking in the shadows. These were men who could make people disappear with a single glance.
And yet, right now?
These same two terrifying figures were kneeling before me.
Begging.
Rubbing their hands together like desperate street performers trying to win my favor.
I could barely contain myself. My entire being vibrated with the sheer force of my need to laugh. The scene was too good, too absurd. If I didn't record this, it would be a crime against history. So, naturally, I had my phone in hand, pretending to scroll casually while secretly capturing every glorious second on video.
"So," I drawled, letting the silence stretch. "Since you both decided to do something spectacularly stupid…" I paused, savoring the tension. Their souls were already halfway out of their bodies. "…Which one of you should I fire?"
Panic.
Soo-Hyuk reacted first, throwing In-Hyeop under the bus so fast he nearly broke the sound barrier.
"YOU CAN FIRE IN-HYEOP!" he shouted, as if presenting a sacrificial lamb to appease an angry god.
"EXCUSE ME?!" In-Hyeop whipped his head around like a betrayed drama protagonist. He immediately turned to me, voice urgent. "NO! YOU SHOULD FIRE SOO-HYUK!" His expression was that of a man who knew he had 0.2 seconds to save himself from execution. "I WAS TRYING TO TELL HIM THAT WE SHOULD JUST HAVE OUR MEN FOLLOW THEM!"
"Follow them?" I repeated, tilting my head with faux curiosity.
His mouth snapped shut. His face was drained of color. He had just dug his own grave and realized it a second too late.
"I—" He gulped. "I mean—"
Too late. Soo-Hyuk was already on the counterattack.
"IT WAS IN-HYEOP WHO WANTED THEM TO BE BEATEN AND LOCKED IN THE BASEMENT!" In-Hyeop blurted, pointing aggressively at his partner-in-crime-turned-enemy.
"YOU!" In-Hyeop's face twisted with betrayal. His hands shot forward, gripping Soo-Hyuk's collar.
Soo-Hyuk, not one to back down, grabbed In-Hyeop, collar in return. And just like that, they were locked in a ridiculous standoff, two of the deadliest men in the organization looking like they were about to engage in a schoolyard slap fight.
I tried. I really did.
But I couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Hahahahaha—AHHHHH—"
I collapsed into laughter, slapping my thigh, tears forming at the corners of my eyes. I hadn't laughed this hard in ages.
They froze mid-grapple, realizing they had been played.
"Oh man—hahhh—" I wiped away a tear, inhaling deeply to regain control. "That's enough, that's enough. I'm not firing either of you."
Their grips loosened.
I casually stopped my recording and wiggled my phone at them, letting them put two and two together.
The moment the realization hit, they both went pale.
"I'm gonna treasure this video forever," I said, grinning like a villain. "But don't worry, I'll keep it safe. Unless, of course…"
They were tense.
"…It accidentally leaked."
Pure, unfiltered horror crossed their faces.
"Y-You wouldn't…" Soo-Hyuk whispered.
I gasped, feigning deep offense. "Would I? Would I really?" I smirked. "You know how much Song-Kang loves checking his Noona's phone, right?"
At the mention of Song-Kang, both men turned absolutely lifeless. Their legendary composure? Shattered. Their bloodstained hands? Now clammy with fear. Their once-mysterious aura? Reduced to dust.
If anyone walked in at this moment, they would not believe that these were the same men whispered about in hushed tones across the city.
I clapped my hands together. "Alright, now that that's settled—" I grabbed them by their collars and yanked them up to their feet. "Go, go, do your work! Get out of my sight."
They didn't resist as I pushed them toward the door. They moved like puppets whose strings had been severed, the weight of their embarrassment crushing them.
As soon as the door shut behind them, I let out a deep sigh and flopped onto the couch.
At last.
Peace.
I closed my eyes, sinking into the cushions, ready for a well-deserved nap.
Then—BZZT.
I peeked one eye open.
A text. From Song-Kang.
Song-Kang:Noona, you should really use better encryption. I check your phone's security all the time. Gotta make sure my precious Noona doesn't get hacked!
I sat up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.
I was hacked.
By my own personal menace.
Before I could process the betrayal, my phone lit up like a New Year's firework display.
[Notification: The Ears have sent a video.]
Oh.
Oh, no.
I tapped the notification with dread in my soul.
There it was—the exact video I had recorded, now proudly displayed in 4K Ultra HD for the entire organization.
With commentary.
Title: "THE DOWNFALL OF THE WRAITH & THE NOSE: A MASTERCLASS IN SELF-DESTRUCTION."
I wanted to throw myself out the window.
And the group chat? A full-blown spectacle.
The Overseer:Speechless.
The Feet:Soo-Hyuk's "betrayal face" deserves an Oscar LMAO.
The Eyes:This is pure, unfiltered cinematic gold.
The Hands:Had to reschedule an arms deal. Worth it.
The Mouth:I expected better. I was wrong.
The Wraith:DELETE THIS RIGHT NOW.
The Mind:Even I didn't predict this level of disaster.
The Luminary:This has K-Drama potential. Who's funding it?
The Shade:WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
The Tycoon:Beyond even my calculations.
The Magistrate:I can be the judge of this. Oh wait—I AM.
The Curator:3/10 execution. Needed more dramatic music.
The Nose:SONG-KANG, I SWEAR TO—
Meanwhile, Song-Kang, the devil himself, was unleashing memes at light speed.
A GIF of Soo-Hyuk and In-Hyeop dramatically pointing at each other like the Spider-Man meme.
A slow zoom-in of In-Hyeop's face when he realized he snitched on himself.
A stock image of a burning dumpster labeled "The Wraith & The Nose's dignity."
A heavily edited movie poster titled: "Betrayal: The Musical" starring "Soo-Hyuk & In-Hyeop."
I clutched my phone, torn between rage, despair, and the overwhelming urge to laugh.
I had planned to treasure this video in secret.
But thanks to Song-Kang?
Now, the entire organization was enjoying it with popcorn.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Nam-Joo and Seo-Joon staggered out of the building like two men who had just signed away their souls—because technically, they had.
Their feet dragged them toward the parking lot, their minds still buffering, still trying to process what in the drama-plot-twist hell had just happened.
They slid into the car, shut the doors, and just… sat there.
"…Was that real?" Mr. Park groaned, rubbing his temples like a man who had just remembered his student loans.
"What a weird fever dream," Nam-Joo muttered, gripping the steering wheel like it was his last remaining connection to reality. "Like, at any moment, someone's going to wake me up, right?"
Mr. Park let out a deep, soul-weary sigh. "What do we do now?"
Nam-Joo inhaled sharply. "Call our managers. Pray they don't murder us." He exhaled. "Also, I need to hire people to run my coffee shop before it collapses into chaos."
Just then—
A loud knock on the window.
Both men screamed.
Outside stood two men.
The first? A literal angel. Soft features, bright eyes, a smile so sweet it could cause cavities.
The second? Dressed like he was attending a mafia funeral. Sharp eyes. Cold expression. Exuding the kind of calm menace that made you question your life choices.
Their survival instincts screamed at them to drive away. But, being the respectful (and slightly terrified) men they were, they reluctantly stepped out of the car.
"Hi! My name is Jae-Won, and this is Jae-Young! We're from the PR team!" Jae-Won greeted, beaming so radiantly it was almost blinding. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Park! We're so excited to work with you!"
"We will be your managers from now on," Jae-Young added, voice smooth and full of authority.
"Managers?" Nam-Joo blinked.
"Wh-what do you mean by that?" Seo-Joon stammered, already feeling the walls close in.
"I—I have plans!" Seo-Joon gasped. "I'm fully booked! K-dramas, movies, endorsements—"
"We know," Jae-Young said calmly—too calmly. "But Miss B personally invited you to walk the runway. You should be grateful."
That single word—grateful—was so sharp it felt like a contract-binding spell.
Jae-Won, ever the peacemaker, jumped in with his angelic smile. "Yes! We've already contacted your managers and cleared your schedules for next week. Everything's taken care of!"
Seo-Joon's soul physically left his body.
"Not only that," Jae-Won continued, eyes twinkling, "but we've already sent your contracts over! You just need to sign them~!"
Jae-Young held up a tablet so full of schedules it looked like a death sentence. "Since Miss B has chosen you both as the faces of the brand, you'll be extremely busy. There will be photoshoots, fittings, TV appearances, exclusive ads, and press conferences—strictly for Miss B's brand. That's your new reality, Mr. Park."
Seo-Joon let out a choked noise.
"And you, Nam-Joo." Jae-Young turned to him, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "We already secured brand deals for you. Advertisements. Commercials. Runways. Photoshoots. You're on a very tight schedule. I hope you can handle it."
He smiled.
Nam-Joo wasn't sure if it was a friendly smile or a 'Welcome to your new life, peasant' kind of smile.
At that moment, they genuinely didn't know whether Jae-Won was a guardian angel or a devil in disguise.
And Jae-Young? Oh, definitely the grim reaper, standing there to make sure they signed their souls away properly.
"All right! Our team will be in touch, okay? Fighting!" Jae-Won beamed.
Then, just like that, the two vanished into the night like drama villains.
Nam-Joo and Seo-Joon just stood there.
Processing.
Contemplating.
Regretting.
"…Are we really not dreaming?" Mr. Park whispered, his voice laced with pure desperation.
Nam-Joo stared at the night sky, his hands trembling. "Did I… did I just strike a diamond?" His voice cracked. "All these years… I thought I'd never get a chance."
And just like that—
They hugged.
Two grown men. Sobbing. In a parking lot.
Loudly.
Ugly crying under a flickering streetlight.
And honestly?
It was a beautiful disaster.
Because sometimes, life doesn't feel real until you're clutching your best friend, crying like a baby, under a fluorescent parking lot lamp—
Wondering if you just signed up for the best or worst decision of your life.