Time seemed to warp, each minute a fleeting butterfly against the relentless march of the clock. Though Hyun-seong’s resignation letter had yet to gain approval from the higher-ups, there was no justification for forcibly retaining someone who harbored no desire to remain within the company’s confines. Tae-jun, who had dutifully served as his secretary, now joined him in departing the Terra Building, both carrying their belongings as they embarked on their newfound journey.
Their first order of business as newly minted free agents? A law office. Hyun-seong, with a decisive glint in his eye, found a promising location in Yangjae-dong and wasted no time in securing the property. A month later, a gleaming sign emblazoned with “Yoon Hyun-seong Law Office” proudly hung above the entrance.
Stepping inside for the first time, Yi-soo’s initial gasp morphed into a wry smile. “Wow, this place…” she began, her voice trailing off.
“…is a glorious disaster zone,” she finished, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“We’ll tidy it up,” Hyun-seong reassured, already mentally planning the cleanup. “It’s quite a task, especially after yesterday’s move. And those law books? We can’t just toss them away.”
Tae-jun, wielding a box cutter like a warrior’s sword, shook his head with a grin. The controlled chaos spoke volumes of their recent move. Yesterday’s unpacking had transformed the once-empty space into a whirlwind of boxes, furniture, and legal paraphernalia.
“Hey, speaking of this mess… ever think about hiring movers? I mean, who likes strangers pawing through their stuff, right? At this rate, we’ll be sorting through boxes till kingdom come. I might as well throw out my back before we’re done.”
“Anyway, Secretary Kang, been avoiding the dating scene lately?” Yi-soo quipped, adding a touch of levity to the chaotic scene.
“What’s that got to do with anything? Is my back only at risk when I’m out on dates? Did I really ditch a cushy job just to chase some pipe dream…” Tae-jun grumbled, shifting books on the shelves.
“Come to think of it, diving into this Yoon & Kang venture was all thanks to Lawyer Yoon…” Tae-jun mused aloud, his discontent evident in his tone. “Feels kinda odd, doesn’t it?”
“You’ve been talking to yourself a lot lately. Feeling lonely?” Yi-soo teased, jumping in to lend a hand with the books.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s just that Prosecutor Seo and Lawyer Yoon have been joined at the hip lately. Not that I said anything to Attorney Yoon,” Tae-jun replied, a wry smile playing on his lips.
“Still, having Secretary Kang around is a comfort. Despite his grumbling, Hyun-seong relies on him more than he lets on,” Yi-soo remarked.
While Tae-jun were moving books, memories of their law school days flooded back. “Does the great Yoon Hyun-seong really rely on me? Hmm… maybe he just needs a lackey,” Tae-jun quipped with a smirk.
“Trying to guilt-trip me, Tae-jun?” Hyun-seong retorted with a chuckle.
“Hey, I may talk a big game, but you know I’ve got your back, boss. Even if I’m a mess, at least I’m a competent mess,” Tae-jun replied with a grin.
Watching their banter unfold, it was clear that they wouldn’t be bored anytime soon. They were like a comedy duo, bringing laughter to even the most chaotic of situations.
Yi-soo suspected there was more to Tae-jun’s unwavering loyalty to Hyun-seong than just his boss’s undeniable charm. “Every time you threaten to quit,” she said, amusement dancing in her eyes, “isn’t it because you secretly admire Mr. Hyun-seong?”
Tae-jun scoffed. “Like me? Absolutely not. I just appreciate the generous paycheck Hyung offers. At my age, good opportunities are scarce.”
A glint appeared in Hyun-seong’s eyes. “Speaking of paychecks, Secretary Kang, your salary is being reduced. You’ll be receiving only 25% of your original amount. Are you comfortable with that?”
Tae-jun’s exaggerated sigh turned into a groan. “Ugh, this was a terrible decision.”
Intrigued, Yi-soo paused from arranging the law books. “25%?” she echoed. “What was your original salary to warrant such a drastic cut?”
“Let’s just say I was very well-compensated,” Tae-jun admitted with a sheepish grin. “Quite the gravy train, wasn’t it?”
The comment didn’t sit well with Yi-soo. “Even so…”
The numbers didn’t make sense, but she couldn’t pry into his past at Yoon & Kang. Sensing her curiosity, Tae-jun leaned closer and whispered a figure that made Yi-soo’s eyes widen. It was an astronomical sum, far exceeding what she could ever hope to earn as a prosecutor, even after decades of service.