It has been a month since becoming the Boss's secretary.

I thought I had grown somewhat accustomed to life in the organization, which was initially filled with nothing but tension.

At least, I thought so until today.

The office door opened, and a man walked out.

His face was covered in blood. Torn lips and a red, swollen cheek. Bloodstains that hadn't yet dried were spreading across his shirt. To anyone's eyes, he looked like someone who had just been unilaterally beaten.

But it was strange.

None of the subordinates passing through the hallway looked at him. No one was surprised, and no one spoke to him. Everyone just continued their work as if this were a perfectly normal occurrence.

What was even stranger was the man himself.

There was no sign of pain, anger, or resentment. He simply straightened his disheveled tie as if nothing had happened and wiped the blood trickling from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Only then did I realize.

In this organization, that sight is a daily routine.

And that blood-covered man began to walk toward my secretarial office.