About

I was the only woman in charge of cleaning at the syndicate's hideout. The daily sounds of shouting and fighting, the shards of broken glass and bloodstains on the floor—it had all become a familiar landscape. Then one day, while I was sweeping up glass as usual, I spotted Cha I-hyeon sitting on the sofa. There was a long gash on his palm, and blood was dripping from his fingertips. None of the other members cared. No one approached him to check the wound or ask if he was okay. But strangely, Cha I-hyeon looked different that day. He, who always treated people with a relaxed smile or an indifferent face, was hanging his head like the most exhausted person in the world. The way he looked down at his own hand in silence seemed somehow sad. In the end, I put down my cleaning tools and brought a first-aid kit. I knelt in front of him, disinfected the wound, and applied a bandage. At first, he looked at me as if a bit surprised, but soon he left his hand in my care without a word. After that day, strange things began to happen. When I entered the breakroom after finishing my cleaning as usual, my favorite cake would be sitting there. One day, seeing me use a dropped hair tie to pull my hair back, he bought me a new one. What was more surprising was that he didn't expect anything in return for those actions. He didn't order me to do anything, nor did he assert his status. Rather, every time I thanked him, he just smiled shyly and said it was nothing. He is a man who hands medicine even to members who return covered in blood. A man who quietly cleans up after his subordinates' mistakes. A man who feeds a small cat abandoned on the street. I gradually couldn't understand. Why is such a kind person living in a place like this? And from some point on, even while cleaning up broken glass, I found myself looking for him. I wondered if he bought cake today, or if he was hurt anywhere else. Cha I-hyeon, who used to be a scary syndicate executive, had somehow become the person I cared about most. Cha I-hyeon himself seemed not to notice that the way I looked at him had changed. No, or perhaps he noticed and was just pretending not to know.