SAGW 18

Chapter : 18

The streetlight poured its light down over the top of his head.

He walked out of the darkness and approached, his footsteps clicking against the asphalt in front of the convenience store like an actor walking down a red carpet.

My breath caught in my throat.

A perfect three-piece suit and gleaming dress shoes. And behind me, the blue plastic convenience-store table and parasol.

It was jarringly out of place. The bizarre disharmony felt almost like looking at a composite photograph.

‘This is crazy, Lee Da-eun.’

I tightened my grip on the bag. For a moment, I had the urge to run away.

No matter how much I wanted to repay him for his kindness, giving a third-generation chaebol heir convenience-store sausages was… This might not be courtesy. It could be an insult.

“Executive Director.”

I called out to him hesitantly, and he stopped exactly one step in front of me.

Up close, it was even more obvious.

The deep furrows between his brows. His bloodshot eyes.

It was clear that he had spent the entire day starving himself while being worked to the bone.

“You said you had something to give me. What is it?”

Unlike his calm voice, his gaze was fixed on the plastic bag in my hand.

I swallowed hard.

Whatever. It’s already done.

“I heard you… hadn’t had dinner.”

Feeling awkward, I gave him an embarrassed smile and subtly lifted the bag. The clattering of its contents sounded pitifully loud.

“This is all the money I had on me right now.”

Silence fell.

He looked back and forth between the bag and my face.

What if he refuses? What if he throws it into the trash, saying, ‘You expect me to eat this?’

It was just as about ten worst-case scenarios were running through my head.

Screeech—.

Without saying a word, he undid the buttons of his jacket, pulled out a plastic chair, and sat down.

“Sit.”

“…Pardon?”

“Are you going to eat standing up?”

I was dumbfounded.

Kang Seo-jun, of all people, wearing a luxury suit that probably cost well over ten million won, calmly taking a seat on a rattling plastic chair.

I hurriedly sat down across from him. Then, with trembling hands, I opened the bag.

Rustle, rustle.

I laid out my secret weapons one by one on the table.

“First, for the appetizer… Juicy Burst Sausages. And they weren’t from a two-plus-one promotion. I paid full price for these premium ones.”

As I placed the sausages down, he raised an eyebrow.

“For the main dish, Jeonju Bibimbap triangle kimbap. It’s a combination infused with the soul of the Korean people.”

Thump.

One triangle kimbap took its place on the table with an imposing air.

“And for dessert, Brewing R Cup Coffee. This is basically the Hermes of convenience-store coffee.”

The setup was complete.

A full-course meal totaling 12,500 won.

A cold night breeze swept through, making the plastic bag flap in the wind. His luxury tie and a 1,500-won triangle kimbap were captured in the same frame.

If there had been a hole in the ground, I would have wanted to crawl into it.

‘Even so, isn’t this a little too much? To the man who helped me get my 300 million won back, I’m giving him nothing but…’

My face grew hotter and hotter. I lowered my head and stared intently at nothing but the pattern on the table.

“This.”

He pointed at the tip of the triangle kimbap.

“How do you open this?”

“…Pardon?”

“I’ve never eaten one before.”

Ah. Right.

He probably hadn’t even seen convenience-store food in his entire life. Of course he wouldn’t know this ingenious three-step packaging system.

“Give it to me. I’ll open it for you.”

I took the triangle kimbap and, with practiced movements, pulled tab number one, then peeled away the plastic labeled two and three. Once the crisp seaweed was revealed, perfectly wrapped around the rice, I handed the unwrapped kimbap back to him.

“Here. Eat. It’s Jeonju Bibimbap.”

He accepted the triangle kimbap and seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking a big bite.

Crunch.

The sound of the seaweed breaking filled the air.

I swallowed nervously as I watched him.

What if he doesn’t like it? What if he spits it out because it’s spicy? What if he gets angry because it tastes like too much seasoning?

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“H-How is it? Does it suit your taste?”

At my cautious question, he looked down at the reddish filling in the kimbap he was holding and answered.

“It’s stimulating.”

“Ah… It is a little spicy, right? I’m sorry…”

“No.”

Seo-jun cut me off.

“I mean it’s not bad. It’s making my head work.”

“Pardon?”

“My blood sugar had dropped, so my brain had stopped functioning. Now that I’ve taken in some sodium and carbohydrates, I think it’s starting to work again.”

He said it indifferently, then opened the sausage package. Apparently, this was something he instinctively knew how to do without being taught.

He took a bite of the sausage.

The juices burst out.

He was eating well.

Much better than I expected.

Enough that I didn’t regret spending my 12,500 won.

His mouth kept moving without pause.

His cheeks moved as he chewed. A third-generation chaebol heir, his tie loosened and his posture hunched as he sat on a convenience-store chair eating instant food.

For some reason… it made me feel a little sad for him.

‘He’s just a person, too.’

Even Executive Director Kang Seo-jun, who moved hundreds of billions of won, was just a person who thought sausages tasted good when he was hungry and whose hands trembled when his blood sugar dropped.

Just an exhausted office worker, no different from me.

That realization gave me a strange sense of comfort.

I rested my chin on my hand and stared blankly at him.

“Executive Director.”

“Why? Aren’t you eating?”

“No, I already had dinner. You eat.”

I smiled faintly as I spoke.

“It’s just… fascinating.”

“What is?”

“You eating something like this. You’re always so careful about your health, taking nothing but supplements. So I thought you wouldn’t even touch instant food like this.”

Instead of answering, he took another large bite of the sausage. His cheeks bulged as he chewed continuously.

“You eat surprisingly well.”

At my words, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving noticeably. Then he stared very seriously at the sausage in his hand.

As if he were reviewing an important document requiring his approval.

“It’s… tastier than I expected.”

“Right? I told you the juices were something special.”

“I admit it. The harmony between sodium and fat is excellent.”

He chuckled and put the remaining sausage into his mouth.

Under the streetlight, the tips of his ears were slightly red.

He was embarrassed.

He had been caught by a subordinate scarfing down instant food while crouched on a plastic chair by the side of the road.

And yet.

It was strangely cute.

I simply couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Before I knew it, the table had been completely cleared. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and took a drink of water.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Was it enough? Should I go get you a cup of instant noodles or something?”

“No. If I eat too much, I’ll get sleepy.”

He checked his wristwatch.

9:30 p.m.

It was time for him to go back upstairs and work again.

I felt disappointed.

I wished our time together in front of this noisy convenience store could last just a little longer.

“Then… you should head back up. You still have work left.”

As I began gathering the trash, he stood up first. Then he naturally snatched the empty can and bag from my hands.

“Huh? I’ll throw them away!”

“Leave it. You fed me, so I’ll clean up afterward.”

Despite my protests, he strode toward the trash cans.

There he was, standing in front of the recycling bins, meticulously sorting cans and plastic while wearing a perfectly tailored suit.

It was unfamiliar.

And I was grateful.

He kept giving me things that couldn’t be repaid with money.

Things that even the enormous number of 300 million won couldn’t buy.

A delicate consideration that seemed to iron out my pride, crumpled and battered by the world.

Respect for me not as the ‘subordinate’ bound by a contract, but as a complete ‘person’ standing on equal footing with him.

It was nothing more than sorting some trash.

Yet the sight of his back, doing something so trivial, made me feel as though he were pulling my worth back up from the very bottom, and my throat tightened.

‘This is why I…’

I kept getting confused.

Was this really a strict superior-subordinate contract?

Or was it… a fluttering, ambiguous relationship?

Clack, clack.

He put the empty cans into the recycling bin, lightly dusted off his hands, and came back.

A trash can and a third-generation chaebol heir.

Even seeing it again, the sight was ridiculously surreal.

“Let’s go. I’ll walk you as far as where you’ll take a taxi.”

“No! It’s right in front of me. You don’t have to. Hurry and go back inside.”

I waved my hands dismissively and added,

“Every minute and second of your time is money, Executive Director. It would be more profitable for you to look over one more approval document during the time you’d spend walking me home.”

I was being completely sincere.

If I calculated his hourly wage, it would probably be about the same as my annual salary.

But he was firm.

“I’m walking to help with digestion. And…”

His eyes followed the darkness pooling around my feet as he added in a low voice,

“It’s dangerous at night.”

We walked side by side toward the roadside in front of the company. The cold night air brushed between us.

The street was silent.

Under the streetlights, our shadows stretched out long, almost overlapping into one.

Just like our relationship right now.

Close enough to touch, yet precariously just out of reach.