He attempted to engage in a rational discussion with him, employing all the logical arguments he could muster in hopes of persuading him to reconsider his position.
Had he finally managed to break through the barriers that separated their viewpoints?
Damn it—based on the expression displayed on Cheol-woo’s face, it was unequivocally clear that the answer was a resounding no.
Regardless of how he assessed the situation, it was evident that this individual was firmly resolved in his decision to resign.
‘He definitely heard us, didn’t he?’
There was no other option now.
“Think about the resignation some more. Take until next week, and if you still want to leave, bring it to me then. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Also, I’m going to need you to work overtime tonight. Help Mr. Kim with compiling the data—looks like he needs an extra hand.”
“Huh? I think I’m okay—”
“No, no. You’ll be needed. We also need the presentation ready by tomorrow.”
“Alright. In that case, yeah… I guess I will need to stay late.”
At the mere mention of the word “overtime,” a noticeable twitch occurred in Cheol-woo’s eye.
Had he come to a realization regarding the underlying situation?
However, even if he had indeed pieced together the information or figured out what was truly happening, what actions could he possibly take in response?
Without saying much, Chief Jeong placed a reassuring hand on Cheol-woo’s shoulder before turning away and proceeding to prepare himself for the journey home.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit…”
Brrrr… brrrr… The dial tone rang endlessly, driving Cheol-woo to the brink.
Why the hell was his sister being brought up in that conversation?
And what did they mean by “get to her”?
There was no way to interpret it positively.
Even if he wanted to dismiss it as paranoid delusion, at this point, he’d be an idiot not to connect the dots.
Why overtime—why today, of all days?
They told him there wouldn’t be any overtime on his first day.
He hadn’t seen any other employees stay late either.
But suddenly, the whole team was ordered to do overtime—just like that.
As if they were trying to keep someone—him—from going home.
Why the hell isn’t she answering her phone?
It was 3 PM.
The rest of the team had gone home.
His sister should’ve finished filming by now too, but her phone wasn’t connecting at all.
Stay calm. If they’re targeting her, they’d probably wait until night.
No need to panic just yet.
His boss keeping him at the office by kidnapping his sister and using her as leverage?
God, he wished this was all just in his head.
Cheol-woo tapped away at the keyboard distractedly, thinking only about how he could get out of there.
“I’m going to run to the café. Want me to grab coffee for everyone?”
“Nah. Just order delivery.”
“I’m a little hungry too. I’ll pick up something to eat while I’m out.”
“That too. Just get it delivered. No need to go out.”
“…”
He glanced around nervously.
Kim, the section chief, glanced around nervously.
As Cheol-woo silently pushed his chair back and walked out with long strides, Kim quickly blocked his path.
“I told you, you can’t just leave during work hours. If you go, I’ll get in trouble.”
“Something came up at home. I’ll be back quickly. If it’s a problem, I’ll skip the overtime pay today.”
“Alright, you can go. But hand over your gun first.”
“You said I could take it home after work? I brought it home just yesterday.”
“The rules changed.”
“…”
No way.
The rules changed overnight for no reason?
There wasn’t even an incident.
Beads of sweat rolled down the back of Kim’s neck.
Cheol-woo gave the office a quick scan—everyone was pretending to work, but all eyes were clearly on him.
Team Leader Kang’s right hand, for one, wasn’t scratching his armpit as usual—it had slipped into his inner jacket pocket and hadn’t come back out.
Cheol-woo’s suspicion turned to certainty.
They’re trying to keep me here—while doing something to my sister.
Should I go all-in now? What are the odds?
“Sixteen people. They’re all watching, so a surprise attack is out. Fifteen rounds of ammo. So…”
It’s enough.
As Cheol-woo finished calculating that—
He heard the faint tapping of a phone screen just beyond the partition.
In an instant, Cheol-woo drew his pistol and aimed over Kim’s shoulder.
“Aaagh—”
“Rookie!!!”
Bang!
The bullet hit Team Leader Kang square in the forehead just as he was pulling his gun.
Kim lunged with a pocketknife, swinging wildly.
Cheol-woo stepped back, keeping the pistol close to his body, and fired—bang, bang—
Kim let out a yelp as bullets tore through his shirt.
“Ugh!”
Cheol-woo kicked Kim aside and fired—bang!
The bullet pierced through the partition.
A split second of tactile feedback—
Thud—
The staffer who had been tapping the phone collapsed with a bullet hole in the back of his head.
A rush of employees ran for the gun locker, but before they could draw, Cheol-woo shot them one by one—bang, bang, bang!
They dropped like puppets, bullet holes blooming in the backs of their heads.
When he looked around again, all the others had disappeared.
Under the partitions, frantic feet shuffled.
“You bastard! Dieee—! Ugh! Gah!”
Crash!
A couple of them charged through the partitions from both sides.
Cheol-woo grabbed the first attacker, flipped him over, and threw him across the room—
Wham!
The others fell like bowling pins.
Cheol-woo leapt over legs and gaps, planting bullets into the heads of the fallen—bang, bang, bang.
“….”
He reached the gun locker.
His face hardened.
Some pistols were missing.
Then came a rough click—a poorly maintained gun being cocked.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A bullet skimmed Cheol-woo’s head. He ducked behind a partition.
“My phone! I need to call the chief—hyaaaa!”
Bang!
A hand reaching under the partition for a phone was blown off.
A curious employee who peeked out while reloading took a bullet to the face and collapsed, his spine bending backward.
“Shit! Go get his phone!!”
“Aaaaaaah!!”
A big guy thundered forward like a pig on the run.
Cheol-woo aimed at his chest—bang!
But there was no impact.
The bullet had flattened against his shirt.
He was wearing a bulletproof vest.
“Graaaaaah!!”
The pig covered his face with both arms, charging blindly.
Bang!
The bullet pierced one arm.
Bang!
Then the second.
The final round lodged itself in his upper lip.
He collapsed like a shut-off robot.
Cheol-woo tossed his now-empty pistol—slide locked back—straight into someone’s face.
It hit square on the nose.
“Argh! He’s out of ammo!”
“Fire!! Now!!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Heads popped up from behind partitions, raining bullets.
Cheol-woo used the pig’s body as a shield and charged—bam!
He tackled another attacker to the ground.
Straddling him, Cheol-woo pulled a pocketknife and stabbed between ribs 3 and 6 on the left side—stab, stab—
One hit must’ve pierced the heart.
The body went limp.
“He’s down! Get him!”
The remaining staff charged in.
Cheol-woo picked up a dropped pistol and fired from behind the pig’s corpse.
The shield worked beautifully.
He suddenly appreciated the value of the bulletproof vest he used to think was bulky and annoying.
After a hail of gunfire, everyone was down.
Only two left, moaning in pain on the floor.
“Hee! Hiiik!”
Bang!
No need for too many witnesses.
One bullet left, and the last guy was trembling as Cheol-woo pointed the gun at his head.
Suddenly, a ringtone blared in the distance.
A call—from Assistant Manager Jung.
Cheol-woo picked up the blood-splattered phone and held it up to the guy’s ear.
The guy looked up at him, eyes pleading, What do you want me to say?
Cheol-woo said nothing—he just switched it to speaker and pressed “Answer.”
“Ah, yeah. Huh?”
[Who the hell is this? What’s with that dumbass voice?]
“This is… this is Assistant Manager Lee.”
[Isn’t this Kang’s phone? Why are you answering?]
“Team Leader Kang is… uh, he stepped away for a moment…”
[The rookie’s still there, right? He better be.]
The guy’s head twitched in terror.
Looking up, he met Cheol-woo’s cold, emotionless eyes.
There was no gun to his head, but he could feel cold steel on the back of his neck.
“Y-yes. He’s… working hard.”
[Good. Just checking. Had a feeling—he’s got that look like he’s gonna do something. Carry on.]
“…”
The call ended.
As soon as Assistant Manager Lee turned his head—
Bang!
He dropped like a sack.
“Fucking garbage pistol.”
Stepping over corpses, Cheol-woo went straight to discard the trashy Glock 26.
Too small.
Hurt his hand.
He picked up his tossed-away MyGun P226, reloaded it, and holstered it.
The mag clicked into place like it was meant to be there.
Smooth slide action, well-oiled, low recoil thanks to the compensator.
Yup—MyGun’s the best.
Just as he picked up a crowbar to crack open the office safe—
“Ah, fuck…”
His face twisted in discomfort.
Gurgle.
Something churned in his gut.
Cheol-woo furrowed his brows.
To be continued…