Being A Full-Time Employee C40

Chapter 40

From beneath the desk, sound leaked from a concealed pad. The desk’s glass surface let the light glimmer through.

Why was I nervous? I couldn’t say. Only that if I checked this, I might finally unravel the thread behind the constant déjà vu clawing at me.

And just as I stepped closer—

“Baekgyeom, you came?”

The voice rang—too brightly. It was Kang, of course.

The video shut off the instant I turned. The answer I’d almost reached vanished before my eyes, leaving me snapping my head wildly.

“Guide Yang, I called you here.”

Kang brushed past me and spun into his chair, twirling it smugly. I wanted to grab him by the collar and shout: I know that voice. Was that Wonu?

But he moved first. A hologram bloomed, stars and galaxies filling the room.

“We’re all called children of the stars, aren’t we, Baekgyeom? So, then, are Hunters too? Monsters too? Then maybe they’re siblings.”
“…I wouldn’t know.”
“You don’t have to. Fratricide has been cliché since the ancients. Brother or not, what matters is this: Hunters, who already killed all their so-called siblings, won’t they remain a danger to mankind?”
“I don’t think of things like that.”
“But I do.”

Of course he did. There was no thought Kang didn’t indulge in. He tossed his legs onto the desk, flipping the holograms carelessly. Amid the chaos I caught six letters: COSMOS. He flicked his gaze to me—you saw that, didn’t you.

Even dragging me this far in—it was probably all bait, his trap from the start. I was too willing, because of my suspicions around Wonu, and now the snare had snapped.

“The dungeons—they’re growing. We need to know. Is this early puberty, or the last stage of it, nearing maturity?”
“You’re asking me to go into an unknown dungeon?”
“I’d like that, yes.”
“Do I even have the right to refuse?”
“No. You’ll go in. Collect samples. Handle side-quests. Isn’t that what you call them? Quests?”

He used our bitter nickname like it was a game.

I clenched my hidden fists.

“I hear you two are close.”
He didn’t say which two. No need. He meant me and Wonu.
“You monitor even that?”
“No. It’s obvious from Hunter Chae’s stability. He’s steady now.”

I wanted to retort: only because he has a partner, finally. But deep down I knew that wasn’t the whole truth, either.

Wonu, who for unexplainably long years had survived without a partner. About whom nothing outside his immediate present was known. I was curious. Obsessed, even.

And yes—I could admit it. I wanted him wholly mine forever.

I bit my lip, clenched my eyes shut. The wall of security clearance barred me from his past. Did I even want to know? Our contract lasted a year at most—then he’d be gone.

Who was it that had once wished for everyday life to stay this way forever?

“If you return, I’ll let you know everything about Wonu. Who knows? Maybe there’s a loophole hidden inside his file, a way for you both to live happily ever after. I couldn’t find it. Maybe I don’t care enough.”

A fairytale future… I never dreamed of that. Too childish, and impossible even if we’d been ordinary men. But I was curious. Wonu, young yet knowing the Bureau like home, yet clueless of anything beyond—that monster I called mine.

“Well? Decide.”

I opened my mouth to refuse. My words froze—not from hesitation, but from the Polaroid dangling between Kang’s fingers.

A photo. Real print. A boy—Wonu. Could have been anywhere from eleven to fourteen. Too young. Too heartbreakingly pretty.

My chest tightened. My lips bled from being bitten.

“…I’ll ask Hunter Chae myself.”

“Eh. He won’t tell you.”
“He will. He likes me enough to ignore security levels.”
“Likes you enough to tell? He killed his first Hunter at fourteen. Our Wonu doesn’t bother remembering his past.”

Fourteen.

My vision spun. My own little brother had died at sixteen. Killed when the dungeon broke loose. We’d never been especially close, but for years, that age haunted me—I couldn’t even look at teens without pain.

And Wonu, two years younger than that… he lived, but lived to kill.

“Guide Yang!”

When I returned to myself, I had Kang by the throat. My fist braced against his ribs—habit from combat. I would have stabbed if I’d had a knife. He only grinned, raising empty hands. His laughter made me shake with rage.

“Fucking monsters.”

It was all I managed to curse.

He only slid the photo into my collar, its edge poking my throat like a blade. His smirk said he had won.

“…Ready to listen yet?”
“You trash.”

“Had it been you in Wonu’s shoes, you’d have done the same.”
“What the hell does that mean—!”

I staggered back, clutching my face. I wasn’t crying, but my throat seared.

“I won’t. Fuck your mission.”

I spat the words hoarse and shoved the photo away from my throat. A picture of a boy—if fourteen, I’d beat Kang bloody. If younger, maybe kill him outright. Rage consumed me.

“How can you do this to people?”
“To save lives. How many have we saved this way? It’s trolley problems, everywhere. You pick the train passengers or the child on the rails.”
“I never understood why anyone thought that way. Maybe because I’m stupid.”

“So you’ll really refuse?”

I turned to leave. But somehow the fury wasn’t spent. I came back, teeth bared.

“I’ll go. But I’ll ask my own questions. Not your filth.”

Kang looked delighted. He thrived on problems like a junkie on dopamine.

Truth was—I had no question ready, and no appetite for more dungeons. Not then. Too many questions—so many I couldn’t shape a single one.

What I wanted most: to take Wonu, drag him out and leave this shit behind. But we were no movie heroes, walking out to credits. This life wasn’t a neat two-hour story.

“I’ll wait eagerly, Guide Yang. You’re exactly what I thought you’d be.”
“You’re a sick voyeur, you know that? Go outside. Get some fucking sun. No smog anymore.”
“Will you return my photo? I love that one.”
“Fuck off. I’m keeping it.”

I twirled it in my fingers, middle finger raised. No way I’d give back Wonu’s picture.

As I shoved him against the desk, a curtain of stars draped over us, thin and cold. I left him there in that false cosmos, chest still burning.

And Kang’s last clingy question followed me out:
“Doesn’t he creep you out? Your Hunter? Not boring… not a little terrifying?”

You’re the one who’s terrifying.

Without turning, I spat:
“He’s kind. And cute. He didn’t even know what he liked until now.”

Wonu, abnormal? Of course. He’d never had normal. That didn’t mean he wasn’t human. I only prayed he hadn’t always lacked it.

The photo sat buried in my locker till my discharge. I couldn’t bear to look. In the meantime, Wonu visited often, while I kept inside the unspoken hypothesis:

1. Wonu and I had met before. 
2. It had been when I was shattered. 

The day of discharge, the problem struck.

“Hyung.”

His silhouette peeked in the door. By his head’s smaller shape in the glass reflection, I deduced:

“Not Hyungmin, then—it’s Hunter Chae.”
“Hyuuuung.”

“…Ah. Hyungmin too.”

Hyungmin stepped inside, pouting. Only a few steps—and then sirens blared. His team’s number had been called. Him and his partner.

“I bought your favorite snack though!”

Only not for himself anymore. That’s why I never brought costly gifts to hospital visits—bad luck.