Chapter – 08
It was the moment Cheonga passed by Yusin’s side.
“Huh?”
As if by pure accident, Yusin’s slightly shifting toe caught Cheonga’s foot—just a tap.
In an instant, her center of gravity collapsed. Losing her balance, Cheonga went flying, tray still in her hands.
Her gaze, which had been fixed on the cafeteria tray floating up into the air, darted rapidly around her surroundings.
Right now—lower your center, pivot on your right foot, rotate your body.
Then bend the knees and roll forward once. She wouldn’t fall.
She could probably even save the tray still suspended midair.
Cheonga knew this instinctively.
But at the very last moment, what filled her vision was Yusin’s face staring straight at her.
A mere cleaning lady showing off astonishing footwork—executing a forward roll and saving a cafeteria tray like some kind of circus act?
That would be far too suspicious.
…Yeah. Let’s just die.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
And chose to fall.
Of course, she didn’t forget to step firmly on Min Yusin’s foot once, making it look unavoidable.
Thud.
The tray crashed down, soup bowls flew, and a loud clang! echoed through the cafeteria.
From behind came Min Yusin’s muffled groan of pain—“Ugh!”—from having his foot stepped on.
“Oh my, Bokseon!”
“Oh dear, Bokseon!”
Cheonga’s coworkers threw down their spoons and rushed over, hurriedly helping her up.
“Are you okay, Bokseon?”
“Oh—Professor, I’m so sorry!”
Yusin frowned slightly, as if his foot hurt, and offered the apologizing cleaners a brief nod.
At that moment, Cheonga, bracing herself on the floor, lifted her head and shouted,
“No! Why are you apologizing? This is because the professor stuck his—”
Yusin’s shameless voice cut her off from behind.
“My foot got stepped on. While I was sitting perfectly still.”
“…!”
“Oh, do I need to apologize instead? Well. For having long legs? I suppose I’m terribly sorry about that.”
Clack.
Yusin set his utensils down loudly.
He pulled out a few tissues and wiped up the spilled side dishes on the table, crumpling the mess in his hand before tossing it onto his tray.
Standing up, Yusin turned toward Cheonga and extended a hand with an exceedingly gentle smile.
But the fleeting expression that crossed his face—one that clearly said Watch where you’re walking—did not escape Cheonga’s notice.
Before she could stop herself, she slapped his hand away with all her strength.
Smack!
“Ah…”
Yusin’s face displayed exaggerated regret as his gaze swept the room.
He shrugged once, then brushed the food stains off Cheonga’s shoulder.
Leaning closer, he lowered his voice so only she could hear.
“But why didn’t you use a breakfall today? Making a show like that—how embarrassing.”
“…!”
With that, he straightened up and, with his long legs, stepped cleanly over the fallen Cheonga and walked away.
She couldn’t bring herself to grab him. She couldn’t even speak.
Her hand pressed hard against the floor.
Yusin’s mocking voice seemed to linger in her ears.
Like a warning asking, What exactly are you?
A chill crept up the back of her neck.
He was suspicious.
Min Yusin was definitely suspicious of her now.
If he really was the ringleader of a drug trafficking organization, this was extremely dangerous. Even if he were just a civilian, exposing her identity as a police officer was unacceptable.
She couldn’t afford to stand out like this.
Only then did it feel like her mind finally snapped back into place.
Cheonga took a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry. I’m really clumsy.”
She smiled awkwardly and bowed repeatedly to the people around her.
And she resolved to properly apologize to Min Yusin as well.
Avoiding him halfheartedly wouldn’t solve anything.
“Park Bokseon,” who was undercover here, had to be someone who could easily say I’m sorry, someone who flinched and bowed at a professor’s single word.
Clueless but kind. Harmless.
She couldn’t afford to become someone to watch, or draw attention any further.
I’ll apologize. Sincerely. No—truly sincerely.
Get it together, Kim Cheonga. You’re here to work.
***
“Ugh…”
As his hand brushed the restroom wall, a dull ache surged through him.
Yusin let out a hollow laugh, staring blankly at the tiled surface.
The bruise on his back—left by the tanghulu skewer from days ago—throbbed painfully.
The reason he hadn’t dodged the sharp skewer was simple.
Under his surgical gown, he’d been wearing thick stab-resistant armor—precautions against unforeseen danger. Because of that, he hadn’t noticed the skewer’s sharpness in time. Only after it pierced into the fiber layers of the armor did he realize what had happened.
The result was a deep, dark bruise spread across his lower back.
For someone like Yusin—who was nearly obsessive about protecting his body—it was infuriating.
“…Unbelievable.”
Kim Cheonga’s face kept resurfacing in his mind.
The look of shock on Park Bokseon—no, Kim Cheonga—as she stared blankly after stabbing him with the tanghulu skewer.
She had fled in panic, apologizing repeatedly.
Why that retreating figure kept scratching at his thoughts, he had no idea.
Normally, he wouldn’t dwell on work-related incidents like this.
He would’ve cursed once and let it go. Ignored it.
Avoiding unnecessary involvement.
Keeping his presence minimal.
That was Min Yusin’s way.
And yet, today, he’d done something completely unlike himself.
It was easy enough to predict that Kim Cheonga would avoid the main cafeteria and use the annex dining hall instead. The cleaners’ meal times were fixed; engineering a “chance” encounter wasn’t difficult.
And then I tripped her.
The image of her pale face falling toward the floor replayed again and again.
The more he thought about it, the more foolish it seemed.
“…Why did I do that? What the hell was I thinking?”
No matter how he looked at it, there was no reason.
He’d done something stupid.
Yusin let out a self-mocking laugh.
That was when—
Bang!
A loud noise echoed.
Wearing rubber gloves and holding a toilet brush, Cheonga—no, Mrs. Park Bokseon—peeked out from the janitor’s closet.
“Right? Professor? That’s exactly what I was thinking. Why on earth did I do that?”
Yusin’s face went deathly pale.
He reflexively turned his body away from her.
“What—what is this? Why? Why are you here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? The fifth floor is my cleaning area.”
Cheonga dangled the toilet brush as she walked toward him.
As she closed the distance with long strides, Yusin waved his hands frantically, face drained of color.
“Don’t come any closer!”
Cheonga blinked and looked up at him.
“Professor… I’m really, truly sorry.”
“……”
“Please accept my apology. I really didn’t stab you on purpose. And stepping on your foot wasn’t intentional either. I mean, how could someone like me—a simple cleaner—avoid something like that?”
Yusin’s scowl deepened.
“If word gets out that I upset you, what if I get fired? Please, forgive me.”
Cheonga clasped her hands together, looking desperate.
Between them, the suspiciously damp toilet brush swayed back and forth.
Yusin suddenly shouted,
“Hey! I said don’t come any closer!”
He jerked backward to avoid the brush touching him. As he spun around, his gown fluttered.
And in that moment—
Thump.
From his center, something large and unmistakable—something that hadn’t been properly restrained—shifted visibly.
For a brief instant, silence filled the restroom.
“……”
“Ugh!”
“…Kyaaah?!”
Cheonga’s scream—slightly, no, considerably delayed—rang loudly through the bathroom.
