It happened right then.
Ring, ring—
The office phone started ringing somewhere nearby.
It had to be the manufacturing lab.
The atmosphere instantly turned awkward.
The Team 1 members exchanged tense looks with one another. Kang Ibin squeezed her eyes shut.
Meanwhile, Yoon Taehee calmly reached for the receiver without hesitation.
“I’ll take it.”
He picked up on the third ring.
“Hello. This is Yoon Taehee, Chief Naja of Team 1 of the Exorcism Unit.”
The moment he answered, someone on the other end began speaking rapidly.
Jaegyeom instinctively glanced at Yoon Taehee’s expression. He couldn’t make out the actual words, but it sounded very much like an uninterrupted stream of criticism directed at him.
Yoon Taehee quietly massaged his # Nоvеlight # forehead while listening.
“Yes. We were in the middle of training, and it seems the email was sent accidentally.”
After exchanging a few more words, he smoothly wrapped up the conversation.
“It’s fine. He’s still unfamiliar with everything, so it was just a simple mistake. These things happen.”
He set the receiver down casually.
Since Yoon Taehee himself had handled it so lightly, the tension gradually dissolved. The team members who’d gathered around Kang Ibin’s desk slowly returned to their seats.
Jaegyeom sat back down as well.
After leaving the chief’s office area, Yoon Taehee walked over to the break table and set the electric kettle to boil.
“......”
As he tore open a coffee mix packet and poured it into a mug, he glanced sideways toward Jaegyeom.
Jaegyeom sat stiffly at his desk with a thoroughly sullen expression. His face practically radiated gloom.
Stirring the coffee with a teaspoon, Yoon Taehee quietly smiled.
Then, carrying the steaming mug back toward the chief’s office, he said:
“Probationary Naja Kim Jaegyeom. Specialist in fleeing from the Pursuit Unit.”
Startled, Jaegyeom lifted his head.
“Come here for a moment.”
“......”
Reluctantly, Jaegyeom stood.
When he entered the chief’s office, Yoon Taehee had already removed his suit jacket and was sitting there in shirtsleeves.
Jaegyeom hesitantly approached the desk.
Without looking away from the monitor, Yoon Taehee took a sip of coffee and said quietly:
“Close the door.”
Jaegyeom paused before turning around and shutting it.
“......”
So he really was going to scold him privately.
Even though he’d acted like it was nothing in front of the others.
Already awkward around Yoon Taehee lately, Jaegyeom felt even more uncomfortable now. He stood stiffly in front of the desk with obvious reluctance.
Yoon Taehee lowered the mug and finally looked up at him.
After staring at him for a moment, he picked up a candy from nearby and slowly unwrapped it.
“Want one?”
“I don’t eat candy.”
Yoon Taehee nodded without insisting.
Rolling the candy against one side of his mouth, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, folded one leg over the other, and simply stared at Jaegyeom in silence. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
Unable to endure it any longer, Jaegyeom snapped first.
“People make mistakes when they don’t know something.”
He glared off to the side with an irritated expression.
At that bold attempt to defend himself, Yoon Taehee silently laughed. A dimple appeared faintly in his cheek.
“I didn’t say anything yet.”
“You called me in here because you were going to.”
“Nope.”
“Then why did you call me?”
Instead of answering directly, Yoon Taehee slowly stood and approached him.
The candy shifted to one side of his mouth.
Then he raised a hand.
Jaegyeom reflexively flinched.
Yoon Taehee calmly adjusted Jaegyeom’s crooked collar with neat fingers.
“Who tied your tie?”
After a brief pause, he asked the same question again.
“I tied it myself.”
Yoon Taehee widened his eyes slightly.
“You know how now?”
“Mhm.”
“Who taught you?”
“I just copied what I saw.”
“Liar.”
Over the past month, Jaegyeom had watched people tie ties often enough that he eventually figured it out himself.
But for some reason, Yoon Taehee looked deeply unconvinced.
That instantly irritated Jaegyeom.
“Have you spent your whole life getting scammed or something? I really tied it myself.”
Yoon Taehee loosened his own tie.
“Really? Then tie mine.”
With deliberate slowness, he pulled the knot apart completely.
“......”
Jaegyeom glared at him with open annoyance.
He really never missed an opportunity to bother people.
Still, he raised both hands and grabbed the tie. He’d tied his own before, but doing it for someone else was harder than expected.
As Jaegyeom concentrated awkwardly on the knot, Yoon Taehee slowly tilted his head.
Then his lips lightly brushed Jaegyeom’s brow.
They disappeared just as quickly.
Startled, Jaegyeom jerked backward so hard his neck nearly snapped.
His heart almost stopped.
“What—what are you doing?!”
Clutching his brow, Jaegyeom stared at him in outrage.
“You were taking too long. I thought maybe you were doing it on purpose.”
“What?”
Jaegyeom looked utterly dumbfounded.
So according to this lunatic, he’d intentionally stalled while tying the tie because he wanted to get kissed?
“Wh-what kind of insane bullshit is that... I told you already, I’m not some degenerate like you. I’ve only ever tied my own tie before. It’s my first time doing it for somebody else, so I got confused.”
“Really? My mistake, then.”
Yoon Taehee shrugged calmly, looking completely unbothered.
“Does saying ‘my mistake’ magically solve everything?”
“Hm? Why are you suddenly swearing?”
“Because you keep doing shit that deserves it.”
“Alright. Just finish tying the tie.”
Grumbling under his breath, ears slightly red, Jaegyeom resumed struggling with the knot.
Even so, the finished tie looked surprisingly decent.
“Oh. Not bad.”
Yoon Taehee adjusted the knot lightly and nodded in approval.
Jaegyeom apparently had a naturally good eye for detail.
Feeling oddly vindicated, Jaegyeom straightened his shoulders slightly.
“So why did you call me in here?”
“Hm? Ah, right. Over here.”
Yoon Taehee moved back behind the desk.
After clicking around on the computer for a few seconds, the printer in the corner whirred to life and spat out a sheet of paper.
He picked it up, then dragged over a folding chair from the side and gestured toward it.
“Sit.”
Oddly enough, the chair Yoon Taehee offered him was his own office chair.
Jaegyeom stared blankly at him sitting down in the folding chair instead before reluctantly taking the now-empty executive chair.
The leather seat was absurdly soft.
Yoon Taehee spread the printed paper out where Jaegyeom could see it.
The moment Jaegyeom looked down, his expression stiffened.
It was the email from earlier.
A fresh wave of irritation swept through him.
“What? Am I supposed to take this home and hang it on the wall while reflecting on my sins?”
At that aggressively hostile response, Yoon Taehee burst into laughter.
“No. I’m going to teach you properly.”
He slipped on his glasses and picked up a red pen from the pen holder.
“How to write emails. Spacing. Grammar.”
But before he could begin, Jaegyeom flatly refused.
“I don’t want to. It’s annoying. And it’s already over anyway.”
“Then let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again next time.”
“That’s just closing the barn door after the horse already ran away.”
“What’s wrong with that? If you lost a precious horse, fixing the barn afterward so it doesn’t happen again sounds admirable to me.”
“......”
Jaegyeom shot him a dirty look from the side.
“Then you go fix the barn yourself. I’ll go look for the horse.”
“......”
Yoon Taehee slowly spun the pen between his fingers.
Then he said quietly:
“The manufacturing lab chief scolded me pretty harshly earlier.”
That was one of the most infuriating things about Yoon Taehee.
His ability to leave people speechless was genuinely extraordinary.
Jaegyeom found himself unable to say a word.
“Now then. Let’s start with the first line.”
You’re so full of shit.
Still wearing a sulky expression, Jaegyeom dragged his chair closer.
Yoon Taehee began correcting the document line by line.
“It’s ‘Exorcism,’ not ‘Pursuit.’”
“I know. It was a mistake.”
“Mhm.”
Yoon Taehee nodded mildly.
“But either way, we exorcise plagues. We don’t pursue them. So it’s ‘Exorcism.’”
“I said I know.”
One by one, Yoon Taehee corrected everything carefully.
Where spacing was missing, he marked small V symbols. Wrong words were circled and rewritten neatly in red ink beside them.
“And this isn’t a field incident report. It’s just a request for medical supplies, so there’s no need to explain what happened to Manager Go.”
Still, Jaegyeom had written it that way for his own reasons.
The sample email Kang Ibin gave him had felt too cold and impersonal. Jaegyeom had tried to be considerate by adding more explanation.
“Wouldn’t it feel too insincere otherwise?”
“Work is supposed to be insincere.”
Yoon Taehee answered casually while continuing to write.
“And instead of saying the supplies are ‘gone,’ you should write ‘depleted.’ It sounds more formal.”
He kept explaining things one by one.
“And this absolutely needs spacing here.”
“Okay.”
“Do you understand?”
Jaegyeom nodded.
“And this part too...”
Even though he’d initially found the entire thing annoying, before he realized it, he’d become fully focused on the paper.
Yoon Taehee glanced sideways at him while he listened seriously.
Then, for some reason, his gaze lingered.
Behind the glasses, his eyes slowly traced the curve of Jaegyeom’s smooth forehead.
“......”
After silently watching him for a moment, Yoon Taehee removed his glasses.
Then, almost as though drawn in by something magnetic, he leaned over and pressed a brief kiss to Jaegyeom’s forehead.
It was light and fleeting, like the clink of glasses in a toast.
Startled, Jaegyeom jerked upright as if hail had suddenly struck him.
He immediately covered his forehead and recoiled backward.
“......”
Still clutching the spot, he glared furiously at Yoon Taehee.
This insane bastard did it again.
First his brow. Now his forehead.
What excuse was he going to use this time?
As Jaegyeom narrowed his eyes suspiciously, Yoon Taehee answered without the slightest hesitation.
“I just wanted to.”
Caught completely off guard by the blunt confession, Jaegyeom froze.
“And here, it’s ‘get,’ not ‘gett.’”
As though absolutely nothing had happened, Yoon Taehee calmly picked the pen back up and resumed correcting the email.
“......”
Having completely missed the timing to react, Jaegyeom awkwardly lowered his gaze back to the paper.
Fuck. This is driving me insane.
Rubbing his forehead, he tried to gather his scattered concentration again.