DMSD | Chapter 21

“…….”

Myeongeun finally understood why this internal rule was printed out, sealed, and restricted from access to anyone except the assigned personnel. How could he show this to anyone else? A lifestyle plan, strictly imposed by his 36 and 34 year-old brothers on their 24 year-old younger brother.

“So.”

At the sound of the low voice from across the table, Myeongeun looked up. Kwon Jinhwan had placed his phone on the table and began speaking.

“Assistant Manager, what do you think about that slave contract?”

To Jinhwan, those clauses definitely looked like a slave contract.

“Well… not sure.”

Myeongeun hesitated. Honestly, he wanted to say, “This isn’t a slave contract but rather an elementary-level lifestyle plan.” But he was mature enough to know better than to be that blunt.

“It seems like the Deputy Team Leader and Deputy Head Manager put a lot of thought into it.”

Though he spoke just to say something, it was also the truth. For anyone who didn’t know them, it might look like Kwon Jinhyeok and Kwon Jinhyeon were treating their younger brother like a child, but Myeongeun understood Jinhwan a bit.

“Put a lot of thought into it.”

Jinhwan repeated his words, sounding unimpressed. Noticing this, Myeongeun quickly added,

“It means they care about you.”

“Caring.”

Repeating the word again, Jinhwan stared at Myeongeun’s face before asking,

“Sure, they care. I care about my brothers too. So, Assistant Manager, do you think this contract is appropriate?”

Of course, Myeongeun didn’t think every clause was appropriate. There were some points he intended to discuss with Jinhyeok for revisions later. But now wasn’t the time. For now, he had to follow orders and manage Jinhwan—that was his position.

However, Jinhwan wasn’t mature enough to understand someone else’s position. Demanding an answer as to whether the contract was appropriate only showed his irritation.

“Uh, Jinhwan-ssi.”

“If there’s a feeling of care, does it automatically grant control over the person?”

Ignoring him, Jinhwan continued,

“Just because they care, does that give my brothers the right to control me without even consulting me?”

…Why is he taking it out on me?

Though he felt wronged by Jinhwan’s challenging tone, Myeongeun could understand his frustration. Having been practically dragged to the company by his credit card being held hostage, it was clear how much someone like Jinhwan would hate it.

“Jinhwan-ssi.”

He subtly glanced up to gauge Jinhwan’s expression.

“I understand that you’re angry.”

“Angry?”

Jinhwan frowned, as if he didn’t understand what he was talking about.

“I’m not angry.”

Then he clenched his teeth so tightly that his jaw muscles visibly tensed. Anyone could see he was furious, but Myeongeun decided it wasn’t wise to further provoke him and nodded calmly.

“Alright. First of all, Jinhwan-ssi.”

Clearing his throat to lighten the mood, Myeongeun picked up the approval folder from his lap and set it on the table.

“These clauses… punctual attendance is a given.”

He continued, pointing at each clause with his finger.

“Exchanging greetings with colleagues and having lunch together is part of getting along at work. It’s essentially a form of socializing for one’s own peace.”

Of course, not everyone at work was sociable, like Kim Junyoung… or, well, like Kim Junyoung.

“Doing hobbies or personal activities after work is completely natural too. As employees, we’re paid to work during work hours, so that’s when we should be focusing on company tasks.”

He chose to skip over the part about showing respect within the bounds of common sense and the meaning of decency.

Looking back at Jinhwan, he noticed that Jinhwan was focused on him rather than on the printed regulations.

“And since I’m responsible for guiding you, Jinhwan-ssi, it’s best if you stick with me until you get used to the company environment. Once you’re comfortable, you can move around on your own.”

“Then why did you tell me to leave alone earlier in the conference room?”

Recalling the conference room incident, Myeongeun closed his eyes briefly.

“Though we’re paired during your training period, it doesn’t mean we have to be glued together. Also, the team leader of the Public Relations Office is the Director, so you should prioritize his instructions.”

Jinhwan tilted his head, arms crossed, as if this basic principle was hard to grasp.

“From your perspective, Jinhwan-ssi, this may feel like control, but a lot of people work like this.”

“I’m an hourly worker.”

“…….”

For a moment, Myeongeun was speechless. Jinhwan, looking quite smug, raised one corner of his mouth in a slight smirk. Though the smile almost captivated him with its prettiness, Jinhwan’s sharp words snapped him out of it.

“I’m paid hourly. So why do I have to work the same hours as regular employees if I’m only getting a small change?”

Small change, he says. Jinhwan’s pay may be hourly, but it was far from a meager amount.

This is what happens when a young master is clueless about the real world.

“Jinhwan-ssi, even if it’s hourly pay, our company pays generously compared to others.”

“I don’t care about other companies.”

Heat started to rise to Myeongeun’s face. Reflexively, he touched his forehead, then, realizing it might reveal his agitation, casually brushed his hair back.

“Jinhwan-ssi, even if you’re not a regular employee, as someone affiliated with the organization, you’re expected to follow its rules. You’re part of the organization now, too.”

“As long as I meet deadlines, isn’t that enough?”

Clearly, he hated the concept of having fixed work hours, but if he was going to nitpick on that, he shouldn’t have accepted the job in the first place. Not that he’d had much of a choice; he’d been practically forced into it.

In the end, there was no choice but for him to put up with Jinhwan’s complaints for now.

“The way you’re describing it is freelancing. At Gaon, remote work isn’t allowed unless absolutely necessary.”

He looked at Jinhwan, trying to see if he understood. Jinhwan stayed silent, merely meeting his gaze, his eyes briefly drifting downward before they rose again. Myeongeun suddenly felt as though Jinhwan was studying each of his facial features.

“Jinhwan-ssi.”

Feeling that Jinhwan had calmed down a bit, he softened his tone.

“No one gets to do only what they want all the time. Sometimes, you have to do things you don’t want—”

Before he could finish, Jinhwan scoffed.

“I believe in not doing things I don’t want to do.”

Then just live without a credit card!!!

Barely managing to suppress the urge to shout, Myeongeun decided to take a break from the frustrating exchange. He quietly stood up.

“…Please wait a moment.”

He headed to the storage room inside the break area. He paced around the shelves, looking for something soft enough to punch, but all he found were hard boxes. In the end, he buried his flushed face in his hands, stomping his feet in frustration.

That guy is not Hwan.

He gritted his teeth, reminding himself that someone as thickheaded as this couldn’t possibly be Hwan. No, he hadn’t found Hwan yet. Taking a deep breath, he repeated these words in his mind.

Fine. Forget about Hwan.

He made up his mind. The problem was his habit of looking for traces of Hwan in Jinhwan. Remove the five-year-old Hwan from Kwon Jinhwan, and all that was left was a brash young man. That was Jinhwan, and that was who he needed to deal with.

Clearing his head, he left the storage room.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Though a bit weary, he sat down again, calmer now. Jinhwan glanced at him before picking up his paper cup.

“Let’s continue.”

There was no response, only the sound of tea being swallowed. But that didn’t bother him. At last, he’d managed to see Jinhwan as a brick wall, and his heart no longer felt stung.

He focused back on the first clause.

“Do not engage in violence.”

This was probably the clause that Kwon Jinhyeok and Kwon Jinhyeon valued the most. According to Kwon Jinhyeon, Jinhwan had gotten into quite a few scrapes as a teenager. It meant there was still enough potential for uncontrollable aggression that they felt the need for such rules—important for someone like Myeongeun, who was tasked with supervising Jinhwan.

“Jinhwan-ssi.”

Carefully, he asked the sensitive question.

“Have you been to the police station since becoming an adult?”

He feared Jinhwan might explode and ask if he thought he was some thug, but surprisingly, Jinhwan just paused, setting his paper cup down, showing no signs of offense.

“Are you asking if I’ve been questioned or if I’ve earned a badge?”

He hadn’t intended to ask with such precision.

While Myeongeun was taken aback by the unexpected question, Jinhwan leaned back against his chair.

“I have no criminal record.”

Then, after a beat, he smirked.

“Thanks to a highly competent lawyer I know well.”

He’d been investigated but had received help from his oldest brother, Kwon Jinhyeok, each time.

A memory of what Kwon Jinhyeon had said suddenly surfaced in Myeongeun’s mind.

“When someone like my brother is particularly resilient… even if the police have the culprit right in front of them, they’d miss it. They wouldn’t believe it even if he told them himself.”