Secretary Gwanggong's Survival Diary-Chapter 27
03. That Omega, (madness and savagery), Cried
“Secretary Kim.”
“Yes, Team Leader Kang.”
“Do you want to die, too?”
“Why are you calling people by the wrong last name again?”
When I arrived at work after lunch, the first person who came running was Kang Seokho. This guy doesn’t even have much to do during the day, yet oddly enough, he has this streak of diligence. It doesn’t suit him—this weird, out-of-place sense of responsibility.
“No, I think you really do need to die a little. Come with me to the office.”
“Wait... I’m busy? No, wait! Hold on, Team Leader!”
Kang Seokho hooked my neck with his arm and started walking with long, firm strides. The dumbass musclehead looked like he might snap my cervical spine. I thought he was really dragging me off to the Security Team 3 office, but we ended up on a rooftop midway up the building. He told me to stay put in a stiff, authoritative voice and disappeared—only to return with two cups of coffee.
“...No iced?”
“Just drink it. Honestly, I’d rather serve you poison than coffee right now.”
I only drink iced coffee, even if it kills me. But I hid my displeasure and sat down in a corner, sensing something off in Seokho’s tone.
“What’s this about?”
“That’s what I should be asking you. What the hell happened that you ended up getting kidnapped?”
“Well, obviously...”
Wait a sec. Why doesn’t he know?
“You don’t know?”
“How would I if no one tells me?”
“Then how did you find me?”
“Don’t even get me started. Thinking about yesterday makes me wanna die.”
Kang Seokho drank the steaming hot coffee like it was water and began explaining. He said it hadn’t been long before he noticed I was missing. He realized something was wrong when my voice stopped coming through the in-ear comms that usually buzzed nonstop. ...Son of a bitch. My phone had also fallen on the spot, which confirmed for him that something had definitely gone down.
“...Wouldn’t it have been more reasonable to assume I ran away?”
Seokho gave a short laugh at my question.
“I’ve got better instincts than you think. Secretary ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Baek could never run. If you were planning to run, it would’ve shown on your face from that morning. You’d have had it written all over: ‘I’m defecting to China tonight.’”
This asshole really thinks I’m a joke. I’ll have him know I had a whole other career before this—I wouldn’t get caught lying that easily. Even now, I’m playing someone else’s identity to perfection.
But... how did he know I’d go for China if I were defecting? I guess I’ll just rule that route out for any future escape attempts.
“Anyway, so what happened?”
“I gave the CEO a light heads-up. And you know what? He just sat there sipping coffee with the Beta like nothing happened.”
Of course. That bastard would. Acts like he’s got a kid or something. No warmth in that man. That’s exactly why Betas keep dumping him.
“But then the Beta left all flustered, and the CEO told me to follow. I asked if we should dispatch the team immediately, and he didn’t even respond. Instead, he asked for the background file on the Beta, so I handed over everything I’d gathered.”
If I had to guess, Yoon Taeo probably already knew about Han Yejun’s feelings for me. That must’ve been why he mentioned that bet, even in that situation. If I had to speculate, I’d say he confirmed something about Lee Jiseok and figured out it was a kidnapping. Taeo’s intuition is annoyingly sharp in matters like that. I, on the other hand—the actual target—was stupidly thinking Lee Jiseok had his eyes on Taeo instead.
“Why the hell did Lee Jiseok kidnap you?”
“So... you beat him up without even knowing the reason...?”
“I never said I killed him. He’s alive. Barely. And let’s be clear—I didn’t do anything. That was the CEO.”
According to Kang Seokho, it had been a long time since he saw Yoon Taeo that violently unhinged. He offered his own little theory, saying it probably had to do with losing Han Yejun to someone else. I didn’t agree, but I didn’t bother to say anything. In my opinion, Taeo had already realized, during that meeting with Han Yejun, that Yejun no longer cared about him. Whether it was through his words or his demeanor—probably the former.
“...What about Han Yejun?”
“Can’t tell you.”
“...Huh?”
Seokho, who had been chattering non-stop, suddenly shut his mouth. It wasn’t even a difficult question—just a follow-up about what happened after I went missing.
“Secretary Baek, looks like the CEO’s really blacklisted you after what happened yesterday.”
“Me...?”
“Yeah, you. He specifically told us not to share any details about this incident with you.”
“...I’m acting team leader of the Secretarial Division.”
What kind of bullshit directive is that?
“Oh, and he said if you ask, to tell you this.”
“......?”
“‘Ask me directly to my face.’”
Seokho mimicked Taeo’s voice, poorly, and somehow that made it worse. Just hearing those words made my curiosity about Han Yejun vanish completely. I had no interest in exchanging words with Yoon Taeo over this—or worse, bringing up Han Yejun only to hear something about that damn bet I never even agreed to. Pathetic as it is, I’ll just believe Han Yejun is alive and well somewhere and leave it at that.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Whoa, Team Leader! Did you see the news?”
So peaceful. Almost too much. Like the kidnapping incident from a few days ago had never even happened, our daily life returned to normal at a dizzying pace.
The secretarial division was restructured. Excluding Team 3’s duties, members from Teams 1 and 2 were reassigned to a rotation system. That way, there’d always be backups ready. Well... I didn’t want to be stuck with all the housework alone, so I used my brain a little.
“What news?”
Not to brag, but it feels like work runs a little more smoothly now. And thanks to my constant reminders about the importance of “life,” team members seem to focus better, too.
“There’s a Sotheby’s auction happening in Seoul!”
“...Oh? Really?”
“I think our CEO really liked that kind of thing... right?”
The article popped up on my tablet. The event wasn’t far off. In the drama, he had attended the same auction, so unless something major comes up, Yoon Taeo would likely show up to this first-ever Sotheby’s event in Seoul. He always valued “firsts,” and the artworks up for auction would be worth it.
“It’s probably best not to go.”
“...Excuse me?”
“Nothing. Just to be safe, let’s put the CEO’s name on the invite list.”
Someone like Yoon Taeo wouldn’t have trouble getting into that kind of event. Actually, most of the décor and art pieces in his home were absurdly expensive works of art.
— “VIP heading up.”
The in-ear comm crackled as I made my way toward the elevator with calm steps. Maybe the job's not so bad after all. At least it’s easier than the brutal housekeeper duties I had before.
“Welcome back, CEO.”
“Secretary Kim. Follow me.”
Yoon Taeo swept past me the second he stepped out of the elevator, exuding a bone-chilling aura. The junior secretary behind him looked pale as death. I trailed them into the office, carrying Taeo’s briefcase still nestled in the assistant’s arms. Judging by the atmosphere, I’d rather die than go in—but if I didn’t, I might actually die.
“...Did something... happen...?”
Of course. There was no way my calm little world would last long.
“Do you think there’s a problem with our company’s benefits?”
“...Sorry?”
“Salaries too low, not enough bonuses, stuff like that.”
Taeo shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the couch, rolling up his sleeves and crossing his arms over his chest in just his shirt and vest. As he spoke, I quickly picked up the crumpled jacket and smoothed it out before hanging it neatly on the rack.
“That can’t be it. Financial firms tend to offer high salaries as is, but even among them, ours is top-tier.”
Not a lie. The pay is solid—but the turnover rate is one of the worst in the industry. I chose not to mention that. The main reason for the mass exodus was standing right in front of me.
“Then why the hell are all our secretaries dumb as rocks?”
“...Me?”
“Not Secretary Kim—the other one from earlier.”
...Right. You should never climb too high in a company. Especially this company. Every mistake your subordinates make becomes your fault.
“Shouldn’t you at least know the names and faces of the people attending a meeting?”
Ah...
As soon as the words left Yoon Taeo’s mouth, I understood the situation. We had arranged a meeting with a senior official from the Ministry of Land regarding the resort construction. Taeo had to be coaxed into even attending, whining about why he had to meet some mid-level bureaucrat instead of the minister himself. But people forget—ministers get replaced when their heads roll, mid-level officials stay until retirement. They're the real power players.
“So... I told you I’d go with him...”
“Shut it.”
“I’m sorry.”
What was I supposed to do? I was the one who insisted on bringing that kid along. “Just go with him, it’s not even an important meeting,” I’d said. And of course, that “him” just had to be the rookie I barely managed to drag into the secretary team.
“Fire him. I don’t even want to see his face.”
“...From where...?”
“If you ask me one more time, I’ll cut your goddamn head off.”
Ah, so not a literal beheading. For Taeo, that’s almost merciful. I could practically picture the meeting now: an utterly clueless secretary who couldn’t even recognize the person he was supposed to meet, and Yoon Taeo not recognizing the same official he’d seen once before.
“Um... CEO.”
“What.”
“He hasn’t even been here a week... He’s got younger siblings too...”
What? Worry about your own survival, his face was saying loud and clear. And he wasn’t wrong. I’m not exactly a bleeding heart either.
“So now I’m supposed to feed his whole family?”
“No, I mean... He’s actually the Deputy Minister of Culture’s son.”
“...Culture Ministry?”
“Yeah, the same Culture Ministry that holds the keys to our casino licenses.”
Guess that razor-sharp memory of mine came in handy again. Much later in the drama, the Beta lead—who’ll eventually end up with Taeo—happens to befriend this exact rookie, and he ends up helping resolve the casino license bottleneck. It was one of those short, feel-good episodes meant to show how kind and down-to-earth the protagonist was, treating even the “nobodies” with warmth.
“So now I’m supposed to tiptoe around that kid?”
“No, no! Of course not...! I just meant I’ll make sure he stays out of your sight from now on. Maybe we could give him one more chance since he’s new...?”
It might have been a minor episode for the protagonist who hasn’t even shown up yet, but for me, it’s a matter of survival. That casino license issue? I fully intend to steal that as my accomplishment. Doesn’t matter how much I hate the job—I plan on staying alive and in one piece while I’m here.
“You really wanna take over as permanent head of Secretary Team 3, huh. Fine, go ahead and try your best.”
Taeo backpedaled on his earlier statement, as if none of that even happened. A relief, sure—but he’s giving me way too much credit.
“From now on, only Secretary Kim comes with me. No one else.”
See? He’s got some kind of separation anxiety or something...
❖ ❖ ❖
“So I said I’m not going. To that dumbass auction.”
Yoon Taeo’s mood had taken a nosedive. As expected, he’d declared that he would be attending the Sotheby’s auction in Seoul. Of course, we already had the invitation, so attendance wasn’t an issue.
“I didn’t mean you can’t go, just that maybe you... shouldn’t?”
For some unknown reason, the theme of the auction required participants to attend in couples. And the event title—“Love of the Century”—reeked of tacky drama. It didn’t suit Taeo in the slightest. No doubt they were just trying to mark up the price by packaging items in pairs instead of selling them separately.
“CEO, I think maybe right now—”
“Right now, what?”
“Nothing.”
That was close. One more word and I would’ve triggered the detonation sequence on his temper.
“Oh, let me guess. ‘You don’t even have anyone to go with, do you?’”
“That’s... not what I meant. I just figured you could send a proxy instead. No need for you to go out of your way for something like this...”
Psychic bastard. Yeah, that’s what I wanted to say—Why show up if you don’t even have a date? But you’ve got to sugarcoat things when it comes to him.
“A partner, huh...”
Even he couldn’t think of a solution. Taeo started drumming his fingers on the desk, slowly and rhythmically. That meant he was thinking hard.
“I’m sure there’s a long list of people who’d run over if you called, but... is it really worth the trouble? It’s not a big deal.”
Actually, there wasn’t. If you printed a list of people who’d bolt the second they heard his name, you’d need ten sheets of A4 in font size 7. But Betas who’d actually show up? Not one. They were either long gone or would pass out just from hearing his name.
“Yeah. Doesn’t seem worth it.”
“Right? Good call.”
Perfect. I thought we’d be able to drop the whole thing without locking it in the calendar—but then he opened his damn mouth again.
“You’re right. Why find someone else when Secretary Kim is right here.”
“...Secretary Kim...?”
His smiling face might as well have said, Yeah, you.
...Fucking fantastic.
