After the brief tension caused by Mr. Kim, the room slowly regained its warmth. Laughter and light chatter returned, glasses clincked together, and the restaurant's buzz of joy filled the air once more.
But that joy was short-lived.
The door suddenly slid open with a sharp sound, drawing everyone's eyes toward the entrance. The air instantly shifted as a familiar figure stepped in, composed, his presence immediately commanding.
One employee, who had just lifted his beer for a sip, froze mid-motion. His eyes widened as realization struck. In the next second, he jolted upright from his seat.
"Director Je..." He muttered under his breath.
The murmur spread like fire. Chairs shuffled, conversations died, and soon the entire room rose as one. Every head bowed low in respect.
"Hello! good to see you, Director Je," voices chorused, almost trembling in unison.
Soo-hyun's gaze swept over the crowd, sharp and unreadable. His eyes flicked from one table to the next, his expression offering no hint of approval nor disapproval—only the cold weight of authority.
Behind him, Ms. Hana followed gracefully, her smile a stark contrast to the chill that settled over the employees. Her voice carried gentle reassurance as she gestured with her hands.
"You can all take a seat," she said warmly. "Please, everyone, enjoy yourselves tonight."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you!" The employees answered quickly, relief softening their tense shoulders.
At the far end, Mr. Kim stepped forward, his demeanor shifting to utmost politeness. He bowed low, his voice respectful.
"We're all grateful for this party, Executive Manager Kim and Director Je."
Others echoed immediately: "We thank you, sir, ma'am."
Dozens of heads dipped again in unison.
Soo-hyun's lips parted, his tone heavy and sharp. "Enough. I didn't agree to this so you all could bow to me all day and make my mood even worse."
A ripple of unease moved through the crowd. Some flinched, others exchanged nervous glances, unsure if they had already made a mistake just by standing.
Hana stepped in gracefully, her calm smile restoring some ease. "Just go back to having fun and don't mind us, everyone."
"Yes! Of course," voices answered almost too quickly.
Within seconds, as though nothing had happened, the restaurant slowly bloomed again with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses. Yet beneath it all, the weight of the director's presence lingered—a silent reminder that even joy had its limits under his watchful gaze.
Soo-hyun's sharp gaze swept over the tables one by one. Light chatter, laughter, the clinking of glasses—all of it dimmed in Kiyonari's ears the moment those dark eyes landed on him.
They locked eyes at each other.
Kiyonari froze, breath catching in his throat. His heart lurched at the sudden weight of the director's stare. For a fleeting second, the room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them locked in silent recognition.
"Kihyun-sshi?" The girl sitting beside him whispered, gently tapping his arm. "Sit down..."
"Ah... right." Kiyonari blinked back to reality, his body stiff as he lowered himself onto the chair again. The smile he forced felt thin and awkward.
But it was already too late. Soo-hyun had changed direction. His steps echoed with quiet authority as he crossed the room. Every table he passed fell into hush, cautious stare, and some straightening in their seats as though his mere presence demanded order.
Then he stopped—right at the edge of Kiyonari's table.
The group collectively held its breath. Jiwoo, who sat closest, shot up from his chair, eyes wide and startled.
"You don't mind if I take this seat. Do you?" Soo-hyun's voice cut through the table's silence, low and even, yet carrying undeniable weight.
"N-No! Of course not!" Jiwoo stammered, bowing slightly as he pulled his chair back. "Please, go ahead, Director Je."
Soo-hyun gave no acknowledgment beyond a brief flick of his gaze. He simply pulled out the chair, its legs scraping against the floor, and lowered himself into it with composed finality.
*****
The table that had been lively moments ago fell deathly quiet, all eyes darting between their young secretary and the infamous director now seated among them.
Although Kiyonari sat frozen, he seemed more comfortable in his posture.
Some of the girls straightened their backs, nervously fixing their hair, while Jiwoo fidgeted with his glass, unsure of where to rest his eyes.
Soo-hyun placed his hand casually on the table, finger tapping lightly against the wood. "So," his voice was calm, but carried a weight that demanded attention, "what were you all discussing before I walked in?"
No one answered immediately.
The silence dragged, until Jiwoo forced a laugh. "Ah... just the usual, sir. Work, adjusting to the pace of things... and life."
"Hm." Soo-hyun's eyes flicked across the group briefly, then settled back on Kiyonari. His stare lingered a moment too long.
"I see."
Kiyonari swallowed hard, lowering his gaze as though nervous what Soo-hyun will say. His mind screamed: What did he mean by that? For some reason, I'm having a bad feeling about this.
One of the girls, desperate to ease the tension, quickly raised a bottle of soju. "Would you like a drink, Director Je?"
"No." Soo-hyun answered curtly, not even sparing her a glance. "I don't like the taste of soju."
The girl sank back in her seat awkwardly.
Well, that was too blunt. Kiyonari thought.
Mr. Kim, watching from his own table at the far end, narrowed his eyes with interest. His lips curled into a faint smirk as he muttered under his breath, "Well, isn't this something..."
Meanwhile, at Kiyonari's table, Jiwoo tried to restart the conversation, his tone upbeat. "Uh, actually, we were just talking about the welcome party. Everyone's been really happy to have Kihyun-sshi here with us."
"Is that so?" Soo-hyun leaned back, his gaze flicking to Kiyonari again. "I wasn't aware my secretary had already become this... popular."
The words carried no warmth, just a quiet sharpness that made Kiyonari's chest tighten.
"... I wouldn't say that, sir," Kiyonari finally spoke, his tone modest and careful. "They were only being kind to me."
Soo-hyun didn't respond right away. He merely stared at him for a moment longer, unreadable, before finally picking up the glass of water in front of him and taking a slow sip.
"My~ Kihyun-sshi." The girls giggled.
"We're not merely just being nice to you."
"Actually, all of us are amazed by your determination and hard work."
They continue to shower him with praises and appreciating comments.
Still, the air felt heavy, though no one dared to break outright. Kiyonari's throat ran dry as he glanced at the unopened beer bottle on the table. His fingers twitched, hesitating before he finally reached for it.
"Would you... like to have a beer instead, sir?" He asked cautiously, voice low but steady enough to be heard.
Soo-hyun shifted his gaze toward him, unreadable as always. A beat passed before he gave a faint nod. "Mm."
Finally, he agreed.
The rest of the group let out a relief sigh.
Taking that as permission, Kiyonari quickly reached for a spare glass and carefully poured the beer, mindful not to let the foam spill over. He slid the filled glass toward Soo-hyun with both hands, bowing his head slightly.
"Here you go, sir."
Soo-hyun accepted the glass without a word, but the gesture was clear. For a second, their hands nearly brushed. Kiyonari caught his breath, pulling back quickly as though the air between them had grown too hot.
The girls seated nearby giggled softly at the sight, covering their mouths with their hands. Their whispers, though faint, still carried a trace of amusement—yet beneath it, there was nervous restraint.
No one wanted to say the wrong thing in front of the director.
So they talked about safe, harmless topics—the food, the decorations, even which karaoke songs would be best later. Laughter trickled in again, but it was subdued, restrained, like a flame kept small by the presence of something—or someone—that could extinguish it instantly.
Soo-hyun didn't join in their chatter. He sat quietly, sipping from the glass poured for him, his eyes sharp yet distant. It almost seemed as though he was listening to every word, weighing each syllable, while never once giving away what he thought of it all.
And Kiyonari, caught between relief and unease, could only sit beside him, hyper-aware of his boss's presence, his own glass untouched.
The chatter at the table rippled on, laughter rising and falling in soft waves. But each time Soo-hyun lifted his glass, the voices dulled, like a hush sweeping through the group.
Kiyonari sat stiffly, nodding along to the girls' cheerful remarks, but he could feel the weight of the man beside him—quiet, unreadable, listening.
Then, suddenly, Soo-hyun placed his glass down with a soft clink. The sound, though small, cut through the chatter like a blade.
All eyes turned toward him.
"You." His voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable edge.
Kiyonari blinked, taken aback. "Hm...?"
Soo-hyun's sharp eyes locked on him, steady and unyielding. "Why aren't you drinking?"
The girls exchanged nervous glances, and noticed Kiyonari's glass untouched.
Jiwoo shifted awkwardly in his seat, a tight smile frozen on his lips. "Director's right... is there something wrong, Kihyun-sshi?"
"I—ah..." Kiyonari cleared his throat.
"I was just... ah..."
A faint, almost mocking curve touched Soo-hyun's lips. "Getting bored? This is a party. Or are you saying I've dragged myself here to sit next to someone who won't even raise a glass?"
The table went dead silent once again.
Kiyonari froze, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He knew every word was a test, a push. Slowly, with both hands, he reached for his glass, lifting it with careful formality.
"... I'm sorry, Director Je."
A beat passed. Soo-hyun's eyes narrowed, but then he lifted his own glass, tapping it lightly against Kiyonari's before taking a measured sip.
Kiyonari followed suit, drinking enough to show respect, even though his throat tightened from the tension.
The silence lingered just long enough to make the others shift uneasily—until the girls began to chuckle again, softer this time, like they had been given permission to breathe.
They cheeringly applauded him, as Kiyonari chugged another glass.
Still, no one missed how the director's attention remained fixed on one person alone.
*****
But just as the atmosphere began to settle, Soo-hyun suddenly pushed back his chair with such force that it scraped sharply against the floor.
Everyone jolted, some flinching at the sound.
"D-Director Je...?" Jiwoo's voice broke, stunned quiet, his eyes widening at the sudden movement.
Soo-hyun's face was composed, but there was a strange heaviness about him—an aura so tense it was almost suffocating. His hand gripped the edge of the table for balance, knuckles pale, as though steadying himself against something unseen.
Kiyonari glanced up sharply, his chest tightening. There was something off.
"... Sir?" He called cautiously.
Jiwoo quickly stood, voice edged with concern. "Director Je, are you alright?"
"Yes," Soo-hyun replied curtly, but the word came low, strained. He tried to straighten, yet for a brief moment his body swayed, almost stumbling just by staying still.
Kiyonari's brows furrowed. His first thought was immediate: He's drunk...
"Sir," he said firmly, rising from his seat, "allow me to escort you."
But Soo-hyun shot him a glare—sharp, refusing the offer before it could even solidify. "No. Sit down."
"I can handle myself just fine."
Without another word, he steadied himself and took a slow, wobbly step forward, then another, walking out toward the bathroom on his own. His gait betrayed more than his words ever could.
Some at the table exchanged uneasy glances. Concern settled over them like a heavy blanket. Even Jiwoo, who moments ago was giggling with the girls, now sat frozen with worry, watching the director's retreating figure disappear beyond the sliding door.
And in the middle of it all, Kiyonari remained still, his lips tightening, unable to shake the unease gnawing at his chest.
The sliding door shut quietly behind Soo-hyun, but the tension he left in his wake clung to the room.
For a long beat, no one said anything. Then, a soft murmur broke the silence.
"... Was he drunk?" One of the girls whispered, her voice low yet carrying in the uneasy quiet.
"I don't think so," another chimed in, frowning. "The director doesn't usually drink that much."
Across the table, Jiwoo leaned back into his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've never seen him like that before. I mean, it's the first time I've drink with him—but he looked... dizzy."
A male employee at the next table leaned closer, whispering to his colleague, "Could it be exhaustion? I heard he hasn't been home much. Stays in the office until late."
"That sounds like him," someone else muttered.
The whisper spread quickly, but always hushed, as though everyone was afraid he might suddenly reappear and hear them.
The girls at Kiyonari's side lowered their voices further. "Kihyun-sshi, you're his secretary, right? Have you noticed anything?"
Kiyonari blinked, caught off guard by the direct question. His lips parted, but no words came. What could he say? That he, too, had noticed the shadows under Soo-hyun's eyes, the way his patience ran even shorter by the day, the unusual edge in his tone?
He answered. "... He's been working a lot. Yes."
"That explains it," one of them sighed, her brows knitting with worry.
"But still," another female colleague added, "I've never seen him stumble before."
Soo-hyun had always carried himself with grace, head held high, every movement sophisticated and precise. Never once letting his composure slip in front of others.
So, seeing him drunk and wobbly was new to them.
At that, Kiyonari's gaze dropped to the glass in front of him. His hand curled slightly against the table, thoughts swirling.
That wasn't just being tipsy. Something's not right...
Jiwoo glanced at him sideways, noticing his silence. "Kihyun-sshi," he murmured, "maybe you should check on the Director, just in case."
"I know you're worried about him. We all are."
Kiyonari jaw tensed at the suggestion. He wasn't sure if following would earn him another glare, or worse, but the unease in his chest refused to leave.