No Moral

‘Soohan Group… but I have no files with them this year,’ Sehun thought.

As soon as Yoonshin entered his room after he finished greeting the staff, Sehun picked up his office phone. He called his secretary, Mr. Tak, who immediately picked up. Through the window, their eyes met. “Yes, sir, Secretary Tak speaking.”

“What’s Yoonshin Do’s bachelor’s degree in? Looks like he went to Korea University for law school.”

“He went to Dongguk University. His major was in social work.”

“Social work…” He couldn’t have chosen a better major.

Sehun clicked his tongue at the ban*l answer. Then, he asked, “When did he get his license? Call up all his peers, including the ones up to two years above and below his year, to the conference room. And call up the recruit team photographer if he’s in the building.”

“Understood. Should I call them now?”

“Call them immediately. And bring me every little piece of information about that associate’s life, from his basic profile to his family, friends, schoolmates—all of them. All the cases he took so far, his personal interests, shoe size—bring me whatever you can dig up.”

“I’ll do that. Is there anything you want me to keep in mind?”

Sehun lightly slammed his desk and after a moment of thinking, he said, “Look closely for any of his or the late Professor Do’s cases that have even the slightest connection to me.”

Across the room, Secretary Tak looked confused, unable to comprehend Sehun’s reasons for this instruction. “The two attorneys mostly did public interest cases. I don’t think there were any chances for your paths to have crossed. Moreover, if there was anything like that, you would have known.”

“Still, look into it. There could be something that I missed. Dig into Director Ikyung Do of Soohan as well. Check if I had any connections with any events, big or small. If you find that I’ve been inconveniently involved with them, tell Yoonshin that he doesn’t need to come to work the next day.”

“I understand for now.”

After the call ended, Sehun continued to look outside his window. Sehun’s room was south-facing and received a lot of sunlight. Yoonshin’s office across the hall didn’t seem to get much natural light—he had his lights on, but it still felt too dim even to Sehun. Perhaps the window location was ambiguous, but where Sehun was standing, he could easily see Yoonshin sitting at his desk. The other could probably see him too.

While lost in thought, Sehun continued to observe Yoonshin for a time. He recalled the frosty words that Yoonshin left. “Perhaps you were the most realistic person that she knew.”

This seemed like a compliment on the surface, but in fact, it was not.

It was an insultingly clear condemnation. It meant that his father, whom he loved and respected greatly, was at odds with Sehun. Yoonshin acknowledged Sehun yet scorned him at the same time. He was fully willing to learn from Sehun but refused to ever respect him.

“I understand that you are very adept at calculating your gains and losses.”

Yoonshin said that he could adjust his tempo, but it seemed like he didn’t feel the need to hide his inner thoughts in front of Sehun.

“Just where did this fool roll in from?” Sehun mumbled to himself.

Sehun saw Yoonshin taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, preparing to organize his office. Yoonshin’s boney wrist snatched Sehun’s attention for a moment, but soon after, Sehun’s eyes climbed up the steep incline of the other’s side silhouette.

His eyes didn’t stop when he reached the other’s neck and continued upward to the other’s lips, pale cheeks, nose. The moment his eyes landed on the other’s, he bit his lip in annoyance. Yoonshin must have felt his gaze as he turned his head Sehun’s way and their eyes met.

Yoonshin tilted his head, perplexed, but still politely nodded at Sehun. The moment Sehun saw that, he picked up and pressed a button on his remote. The blinds noisily shut, and both their spaces and lines of vision were separated. Sehun, now completely alone, suddenly felt angry and threw the remote in his hands.

Crack! The remote control the size of his palm bounced off the wall and landed near his feet.

The object was already broken in two like a capsized ship.

“Damn it.” He was used to scathing criticism. One could even say that criticism spurred him to climb up to his present-day position. Scornful remarks were nothing to him because he could ignore most of them and sometimes use them to his advantage when the situation called for it.

However, for some strange reason, he couldn’t just pass over Yoonshin’s remarks.

‘Why do that b*stard’s words piss me off?’

He stared down at the remote that fell apart and then stomped on it irritably.