That evening.
I was sitting in a café near the company.
The reason I was still lingering around the office area even after quitting was simple.
Just like yesterday, I had plans to meet someone from the company again.
"Well, well. You look awfully refreshed, Manager Kang Suhyeok."
The person who showed up after work hours was Yoo Eunha, an assistant manager from my department.
Even though I'd been her superior until just a few days ago, she greeted me with open sarcasm the moment we met—proof of her notoriously prickly personality.
"Haha. Do I? Maybe it's because I don't have to go to work anymore."
I replied while inwardly breaking out in a cold sweat.
To be honest, I owed Yoo Eunha a debt of conscience.
I caused trouble, so the company fired me—that part made sense.
But the ones who truly suffered on the ground were the employees who stayed behind. And Yoo Eunha must've taken the brunt of it.
In a way, Yoo Eunha had been my right-hand subordinate.
The reason I'd been able to get fired so quickly without much of a handover was precisely because she was capable enough to handle all the related work on her own.
But being able to handle it and actually having to handle it were two very different things.
She had likely inherited not only her own workload but all of mine as well—effectively doubling her burden.
Even at a major corporation, manpower isn't magically allocated exactly when and where it's needed.
So even if replacements came in quickly, she'd still have to suffer for a while.
That was why I couldn't lift my head around her.
It was also why I couldn't bring myself to refuse when she suddenly asked to meet today.
"So, how's work been? Has it gotten a bit better?"
"…Haaah…"
At my casual greeting, she let out a sigh deep enough to cave the ground in.
All I could do was give a bitter smile.
"Guess things aren't going well."
"Not just 'not well.' It's a complete disaster."
"Haha. That's rare. To hear the legendary Yoo Eunha complain this much."
She wasn't the type to speak weakly, even as a joke.
So I'd meant it lightly—but what I got in return was a genuinely furious glare.
"This isn't complaining! It's really a disaster!!"
Her sudden raised voice drew the attention of people in the café.
"C-Calm down, Eunha. We're outside."
She bit her lower lip and clutched her head.
In all the years we'd worked together, I'd never seen her this cornered.
That's when I realized things were serious.
"What happened? Is the workload really that bad?"
"It's not the work that's the problem… haaah!"
She kept sighing heavily, then gulped down her iced Americano like her insides were burning.
It seemed I'd been summoned today to listen to her vent.
Thanks to my ex-girlfriend, I was already well-trained as an emotional trash can.
I waited for her to speak, wearing an awkward smile.
"…That bastard Assistant Manager Park screwed up. Big time."
"Huh? Seriously?"
She spoke while crunching on ice.
It was unexpected.
"What could a guy who never does anything possibly mess up?"
"Exactly. If he's not going to help, the least he could do is stay out of the way."
She replied, clearly fed up.
Assistant Manager Park had always been the type to dump any task—especially the hard, complicated, or risky ones—onto his subordinates.
Which was why he rarely "caused accidents."
He never took responsibility in the first place.
"So… the project you finished before leaving? It collapsed."
"What?! Why?!"
This time, I was genuinely shocked.
Wasn't that project already at the stage where all that remained was signing the contract?
How could it possibly fall apart at that point?
Yoo Eunha then told me something beyond imagination.
"Assistant Manager Park demanded sexual favors from IntelliOn. So they tore up the contract."
"That crazy bastard!"
I smacked my forehead with my palm.
The sharp sound cleared my head—and instantly made me realize just how catastrophic his mistake was.
What kind of insane story was this?
If that man were here right now, I'd beat him senseless, focusing exclusively on his most important parts so he'd never dare to harass anyone again.
Not beating him more thoroughly before I got fired was the regret of my lifetime.
"Calm down, Manager. We're outside."
"How is this something I can calm down about?!"
Now she was the one trying to rein me in.
But I couldn't calm down.
What the hell had that man done?
IntelliOn was a startup specializing in AI technology.
This project was a collaboration to introduce their tech into our company.
We were the major corporation, they were the startup—so someone like Park probably thought we were in the dominant position.
Maybe he figured he could demand "entertainment" since the CEO on their side was a young woman.
But IntelliOn wasn't just any startup.
They owned a piece of technology that could dominate the global market.
An AI-based hyper-personalized marketing automation platform.
In short, instead of blasting the same ads to everyone, the system analyzed each individual customer and selectively delivered the most effective marketing tailored to them.
It was a technology that would undoubtedly become global standard within five years.
But if we could monopolize it five years early, we'd be five years ahead of everyone else.
And with that five-year lead, we could dominate the market for ten more.
I'd argued strongly in meetings that we needed an exclusive contract.
Not because I had special insight—anyone who truly understood the company's potential would've said the same.
It was a bet that didn't need justification.
Thankfully, that bold bet paid off, and we secured exclusivity with IntelliOn.
And now—when all that remained was a signature—they'd blown it up.
At this point, it wasn't just incompetence.
It was a disaster.
"And Manager—this is confidential. You can't tell anyone."
"Then you shouldn't have told me. I'm not even with the company anymore."
"It's not fair if I'm the only one suffering."
She was right.
If I'd had to carry this alone, I would've died of stress.
"Haaah…"
They say an incompetent ally is more dangerous than a capable enemy.
How could something like this happen?
I glared at Yoo Eunha, half in resentment.
"You know how hard things are for me right now."
"I'm sorry. Damn it."
We might be salaried employees, but we're not the type who only work for a paycheck.
We crave growth. Achievement.
Even if success doesn't raise our salary by a single won, we still want to see the project succeed.
Even after quitting, we want to hear that it was a success.
"…That's really unfortunate, Eunha."
She was just like me—if not more so.
She'd poured her heart and soul into this project.
To have it collapse right before the finish line… there were no words for that frustration.
"Really. While you were fooling around with Assistant Hwang, I was working overtime cleaning up this mess."
"Haha… I really don't have anything to say to that."
It was embarrassing.
I'd expected this topic to come up the moment she called me out today.
"So how are you going to take responsibility?"
"For what?"
"My stress."
That too?
But I had no idea how she relieved stress.
"Uh… want to go to a karaoke place?"
She didn't seem like the type.
And sure enough, it was a miss.
She frowned and shook her head.
"You didn't come out here today without thinking, did you?"
"T-Thinking?"
Tap.
Something nudged my calf.
Under the table, she'd kicked me lightly.
"Uh…"
I opened my mouth stupidly.
Surely not.
Surely not.
Yesterday, things had happened with Assistant Hwang.
And now Assistant Yoo was asking to meet today…
Was there really a similar possibility?
No.
That would be narcissistic.
I wasn't so delusional as to think I was the kind of man who could juggle multiple "company idols" at once.
Objectively speaking, I knew I wasn't that impressive.
And yet, the atmosphere was clearly drifting in that direction.
"Um, Assistant Yoo."
"Assistant Hwang is fine, but I'm not?"
"I-It's not like that."
I scratched the back of my head.
What in the world was happening to me?
Judging by looks alone, Yoo Eunha wouldn't fall short anywhere.
Her sharp personality and tone, along with her piercing gaze, made her hard to approach—but outside of work, she was undeniably attractive.
There were even male employees who secretly liked her precisely because of that aloof aura, finding her more appealing than the universally friendly Hwang Juyeon.
And now she was making a move on me too.
Blaming it on my recent breakup didn't seem sufficient.
It felt like I'd used up a lifetime's worth of luck all at once.
"I told Assistant Hwang yesterday too… I haven't been broken up for long, and I'm not emotionally ready to meet someone new. Dating or anything like that is hard for me right now."
"Then we just don't date."
Ah.
So Yoo Eunha also fell into the category of 'young people these days.'
Once again, I couldn't quite understand her logic.
The generation gap was real.
"You did it with Assistant Hwang under those terms, right? No dating, no strings attached. What happens there ends there."
"D-Did we agree on those terms?"
To be honest, I didn't clearly remember what I'd discussed with Juyeon.
What happened afterward had been far too intense, washing away everything before it.
"Then do it with me under the same conditions. Take responsibility. I'm this stressed partly because of you."
No.
That was entirely Assistant Manager Park's fault.
But I didn't say it out loud.
There was no reason to refuse.
This wasn't just a meal being served—it was being spoon-fed directly into my mouth.
"…Let's change locations."
I called a taxi on the spot and headed to a hotel.
Embarrassingly, it was the very same hotel I'd been to with Assistant Hwang yesterday.
Since Juyeon—who was from the same generation as Yoo Eunha—had chosen this place, I figured it would be fine for Yoo as well.
"I'm Kang Suhyeok. I have a reservation."
"Ah, welcome."
The same hotel staff member from yesterday greeted me with a smile.
But then they froze upon seeing Yoo Eunha following behind me.
"…Oh."
Their gaze shifted back and forth between my face and Yoo Eunha's.
Their expression subtly twisted.
'So you brought a different woman today?'
That was clearly what they wanted to say.
Sorry about that.
That's how it is.
"…Um, could I get the key?"
Unable to endure the look any longer, I asked.
The staff member immediately smiled and handed it over.
"Yes. Here you are. Fifth floor."
I stepped into the elevator with stiff movements.
A man standing by the coffee machine glared at me like I'd murdered his parents.