The clatter of leather shoes always heralded something bad: it usually began with a disgruntled department secretary and ended with a new stack of papers in his possession. He could already tell by eye how many sheets there were. No one liked the secretary, he had too arrogant a face and bitchy behavior - who did he think he was, if he'd earned his position by having a pretty face or being under the CEO's desk? For some reason, such a thought didn't seem surreal, especially after his selective treatment of certain employees.

The helplessness was obvious; there was not a soul in the building, only the security guard on the first floor and Hyon, who continued to "serve" the cult of overwork. Apparently, he was trying to draw him into it. The footsteps had long since died away, time dragging on like the speed of the slowest snail before a voice sounded above his ear. "How much longer are you going to slack off?" Hyon threw him a contemptuous glance, expressing all his displeasure in it. He'd been standing behind him staring at the monitor for the past few minutes, watching the sluggish work: the Excel spreadsheet was giving a headache, the light design of the program cutting eyes more than a suddenly turned on light in the middle of the night.

"You should have finished that back in the afternoon."

And again, what seemed like a ton of paperwork fell on the table. This was not the life that the bright minds of the present day dreamed of - they could be more than office workers, doing something more interesting like game development. It was a real medieval torture, because it was to him that Hyon paid such special attention, more like bullying. 'Do my homework, you stupid nerd,' - some typical soccer team leader would say if they were in an American TV series from the 2000s.

The man eyed Hyon for another second, taking in his badly tied tie and crumpled shirt. So outrageous that it was even handsome. Somehow, it was by little details like that that Hyon judged that this guy didn't have a caring wife.