Kang Hakyung was acting strange.
Well, it hadn’t just started a day or two ago—he’d been a bit off for a while—but these days, it was really strange.
Muheon narrowed his eyes as he looked at Hakyung’s back.
Even though they ate breakfast together every morning, he didn’t make eye contact once and kept his mouth tightly shut, unlike before when he would chatter away happily.
Muheon wondered if maybe Hakyung was having trouble preparing breakfast or was annoyed about something, but every time he looked, a feast was laid out—so that didn’t seem to be it.
What annoyed him the most was that when Hakyung talked to other fish (colleagues), he would smile and act all lively, but…
Unable to bear it any longer while the dolphins inside the office went about their lives quietly, Muheon retreated to his office for a moment.
Knock knock.
With the sound of knocking, a yellow hat peeked through.
“Did you call?”
“Yeah. Come in.”
Muheon pointed at the sofa.
Following his finger, Hakyung sat down.
Yet, he kept fidgeting with his fingers, clearly uneasy—like a puppy needing to poop, restless and unable to sit still.
After watching silently for a while, Muheon let out a short sigh.
Hearing the breath fill the quiet office, Hakyung’s shoulders flinched.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Huh?”
“Why have you been acting so annoying lately?”
The straightforward question hit Hakyung like a fastball to the head, making his scalp tingle.
He raised a hand and pressed it against the tingling spot.
Looking back on his own behavior, it was understandable that even a stoic boss would find it weird.
Every night, Hakyung would promise himself not to act that way again, but every morning, just seeing his boss’s face would make his own flush and his heart pound wildly.
This was a reaction beyond his control.
At least avoiding eye contact made things slightly more bearable.
Hakyung was going crazy from the frustration.
He’d toss and turn at night wanting to see Muheon’s face, and when the moment finally came, all he could do was avoid it.
It was the worst dilemma of Hakyung’s life.
Because of this, Hakyung showed very suspicious behavior—but only in front of his boss.
Instead of making a good impression, he was racking up negative points.
“I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology. Is something bothering you at work?”
“No, I’m really happy. The welfare benefits are amazing.”
Because the boss’s face was the best welfare of all.
But he couldn’t say that, so he went back to fidgeting with his fingers.
“So, you just find me disgusting?”
“No, absolutely not! Not even close! You look… great!”
“Oh… really?”
His words, spoken with his head down, carried serious sincerity.
Even after coming into the office, Hakyung still only showed his yellow hat, which irritated Muheon.
He stretched out a hand and hooked a finger under Hakyung’s chin.
Without giving him time to react, Muheon forced Hakyung to lift his face.
“You have to say things like that while looking me in the eyes to be believed.”
That seriously handsome face and calm, low voice pierced straight through Hakyung’s eyes and ears—and then he completely lost it.
Seeing Hakyung flush a deep red again, Muheon clicked his tongue.
Maybe because he’d only ever lived in calm waters, he was overly sensitive.
If Muheon had even glimpsed Hakyung’s stormy, typhoon-like inner turmoil, he wouldn’t have thought that way—but unfortunately, he didn’t notice the strong dolphin’s feelings at all.
“Boss, I like you.”
“Alright.”
Held by the chin, unable to avoid eye contact, Hakyung blurted it out before he realized what he was saying.
Naturally, Muheon didn’t return the sentiment.
Still, he was relieved that Hakyung didn’t hate or resent him.
And Hakyung, having let out even a sliver of his heart, seemed to breathe a little easier.
After being forced to look at Muheon’s face for a long while, Hakyung felt a strange peace settle inside.
Now, even looking at his boss’s face didn’t feel suffocating anymore.
His dark red face downgraded to a bright apple red, and he began studying Muheon’s features openly.
Since his chin was still being held, it was a plausible excuse to shamelessly stare.
“Wow…”
The admiration slipped out of his mouth.
How could one man’s face be so three-dimensional?
A high nose like a Westerner, deep-set eyes, a bold forehead…
Muheon raised an eyebrow at the dreamy gleam in Hakyung’s eyes.
He had no idea how to deal with this tiny strong dolphin. Maybe kids these days were just like that.
***
After that impulsive confession, Hakyung could look at Muheon’s face all he wanted.
The problem now was that he wanted to see him constantly.
The man was mostly in the office, but every two or three days, he’d disappear.
Hakyung figured he was off collecting that “seat rent” he mentioned.
That stung.
Why this job, of all jobs?
He couldn’t even tell his grandma—who called every day asking about the boss.
He had plenty of other worries too, but still…
One lunch, while Hakyung was sitting on the veranda pretending to sunbathe and thinking about Muheon—
“The wind’s still chilly.”
“Ah, boss!”
Muheon suddenly appeared beside him, having climbed up to the rooftop without a sound.
He draped a thick, cozy blanket over Hakyung’s knees.
Hakyung felt deeply touched and lowered his head.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t catch a cold from the late spring chill. Dress warmly.”
“You sound just like my grandma.”
Hakyung smiled brightly and shrugged.
He’d heard those exact words on the phone with his grandma last night, so hearing them from Muheon felt strangely heartwarming.
Even though Muheon was in his thirties, that age gap of over ten years made itself known in little moments like this.
“Well, it’s because of the years we’ve lived…”
From Muheon’s perspective, Hakyung’s grandmother was probably still young.
But he didn’t say more, not wanting to scare off the dolphin who had just started speaking to him comfortably again.
Muheon unfolded the blanket and wrapped it carefully around Hakyung’s shoulders and legs.
For him, it was just natural kindness, but for Hakyung, it was something else entirely.
“You damn guilty sea eel! The more you take care of me like this, the more my foolish dolphin heart flutters!”
He gripped the blanket, resisting the urge to shout.
His gaze flicked toward the boss, who—as always—remained perfectly cool.
If only it weren’t for the age, gender, species, and job… he’d confess on the spot.
Everything except his face was a problem, but Hakyung didn’t care.
He kept thinking.
Being born an eel humanoid couldn’t be helped, nor could the 12-year age gap or his gender.
But maybe, just maybe—if Hakyung did well—the job part could be changed.
And Hakyung was a strong dolphin who never hesitated to say what needed to be said.
“Boss, about your work…”
“Hmm?”
Muheon, gazing up at the sky, turned his eyes toward Hakyung.
He was listening.
“Would you ever consider changing jobs? It seems dangerous.”
“You mean my work?”
“Yes, yes. You might get hurt collecting seat rent. And if the protection money isn’t paid on time, it’s a loss, right?”
The concern poured out of Hakyung’s mouth in a rush.
Muheon tilted his head slightly.
The “seat rent” was something employees, including himself, collected to help the fish on land.
Protection money was a kind of tax—required of everyone in the West Sea.
This wasn’t Muheon’s rule.
It was a law passed down since the dragon kings of old.
But what was dangerous?
What couldn’t be collected?
“This isn’t something I can quit, even if I wanted to. It’s like a family business passed down for generations.”
“A family business…?”
“Yes, to put it simply.”
Just as it was impossible for Muheon not to be a dragon king, it was impossible to quit this job.
He and the West Sea were inseparable.
But for freshwater humanoids who had long mingled with humans, things like dragon kings and ancient seas must have sounded like fairy tales.
Muheon’s rare moment of explanation only deepened the tangle of thoughts in Hakyung’s head.