Han Yeonwoo glanced up at the assistant, who went rigid under the fleeting, detached gaze cast upon him. The CEO didn't linger—his eyes dropped back to the document he had been reviewing, as though the man standing before him was nothing more than passing dust.
Just when Jihye thought he would ignore them for a while, his voice sliced through the air, clipped and even.
"Why wasn't it brought to me when I asked for it an hour and twenty-six minutes ago?"
It sounded like a routine inquiry, but the apathy behind it chilled the room more than anger could. A flicker of alarm passed across the assistant's face before he bowed quickly, apologizing, then gestured toward Jihye.
"Junior Secretary Jun Jihye here was the one Chief Secretary Cha gave the task of finalizing the draft for the launch press release. She was supposed to submit it today, but she came late—"
At his words, Yeonwoo paused, eyes lifting again. His expression was not cold but glacially indifferent. "Late?" The single word cut the assistant's words off.
Then he turned those golden-brown eyes on her, his silence enough to say everything his mouth did not.
'Ooh… So cold. The CEO will definitely be dominant in bed.'
'Are you crazy?! Or are you crazy?!'
Jihye closed her eyes for a second in resignation. 'Can you all please… just stop?! I might lose my job today. So let me focus.'
She inhaled, then met Han Yeonwoo's gaze.
"CEO Han, my mother's illness flared up, and she was out of medication. I had to go from Yeongdeungpo to Dongdaemun to pick up her prescription and deliver it to her before preparing for work. I'm sorry I came late and couldn't submit the draft in time."
Yeonwoo's reply was flat, emotionless, "You should know how to manage your affairs so they don't disrupt your job. This will be the last time. You will be fired if there is a next time. The draft?"
"Yes, of course." She bowed deeply. "Thank you, sir."
Yeonwoo accepted the document, skimmed the title, opening paragraph, and key details, then closed it and slid it back toward her.
"Since you finalized the editing, summarize it."
"B-but I was only tasked with editing the draft. I wasn't the one who—"
"But you read it," he cut in, his gaze unflinching.
"Uh… yes—"
"Then summarize it."
Jihye swallowed, picked up the document, and opened it with trembling hands. She cleared her throat.
"Alright. It's the finalized press release for the Neura-X1 launch, sir. It outlines the chip's forty percent faster processing speed, its thirty percent increase in energy efficiency, and its potential applications across AI, VR, and autonomous systems. It also highlights Han Chip Technologies' leadership in semiconductors, includes your official statement on redefining innovation, and closes with projections of the chip's global impact and a hint at future development."
She hoped the balance of concise detail and clarity was good enough for a summary.
But Yeonwoo's detached gaze did not waver. If anything, the silence between them pulsed with an unspoken "Is that all?"
Jihye forced a tiny, tight smile. "That's all, sir."
'It seems our hot CEO isn't satisfied with your summary. Jihye… why don't you let me take over, huh? I know a few ways I can leave him very satisfied.' The sultry voice of her second alter slithered across her thoughts.
'You're so disgusting. But what else does this Han Yeonwoo want anyway?!'
Yeonwoo's gaze lingered on her face, unreadable. Then, his voice came, flat as glass. "Now brief me on what you edited in the draft. And why."
Jihye blinked. "Sir?"
The CEO didn't repeat himself. He didn't need to. The weight of his stare was enough.
Inside her head, the voices stirred.
'Hey! What the fuck does this guy want again? Your job was just to edit it, and now he's asking you to brief him on what you edited? The fuck is he doing this for? If he wants to punish you for coming late, then he should. Aish! I hate people like this the most. I feel like punching him in his face.'
'Now, now. Let's calm down, okay? Punching that work of art would be a crime.'
'No… don't fight… someone will get hurt… someone always gets hurt…'
Her chest tightened. The angry alter's emotions crashed through her, hot and raw, before she forced herself to inhale—slowly. Exhale—slower. She clenched the draft in her trembling hands, grounding herself.
When she spoke again, her voice was steadier. "Yes, sir. I removed redundant phrasing in the third paragraph, adjusted statistics formatting for clarity, and restructured the closing section for smoother flow. I also cut two unnecessary adjectives in the opening statement so the impact of your quote would land sharper."
She lifted her eyes cautiously.
Yeonwoo's hand cut her off mid-sentence,
"Stop."
He leaned back in his chair, gaze unyielding. "Is this how you brief? Flat. Hesitant. Like a student stammering through homework. Try again."
Jihye's throat tightened. She forced herself to swallow, fingers digging into the draft. "Yes, sir…"
She began again, voice uneven, stammering here and there as she scrambled to organize her thoughts. Every pause sounded longer than it was, every word duller, every slip like nails on glass.
"Stop." His voice dropped lower, colder, "I read the draft. It was good. But you—" he leaned forward, every word deliberate—"can't even brief me on the edits you made yourself. If I have to perfect everything alone, what is the point of keeping junior secretaries at all?"
The words fell like hammers.
He didn't wait for an answer. "And do not forget—you came late today. On the morning you were to submit a critical document, you arrived past time. And now? You can't even complete the simplest task asked of you."
Bang!
The report slammed down onto his desk so hard the sound echoed through the office like a gunshot. Both Yeonwoo and his assistant froze.
But it wasn't the meek Jun Jihye standing there anymore.
Her eyes blazed with fury, lips curled into a snarl. "You listen here, CEO-nim." Her voice was loud. "I woke up at fucking dawn to drag myself across half the city. I ran, I sweated, I begged taxis to stop, just to get my sick mother's medicine so she wouldn't collapse at home. And guess what? I still came here. I still showed up."
The assistant's jaw dropped, face drained of color.
She jabbed a finger across the desk, unflinching. "This is my first time reporting to you, but did you give me a chance? Did you let me finish one full sentence? No—you cut me off again and again like some cheap, broken record player. You want perfect? Then do it your goddamn self!"