DHG Ch 19

“Shall we toast to your sanity?”

Heewoo, whose mind felt completely formatted and speechless, countered as politely as possible.

“No. Let’s do it for you, sir, not me.”

Jang Seungyung, who hadn’t particularly expected it, chuckled. From the way Heewoo poured the soju to this moment, the twenty-year-old was trying to act like a seasoned professional.

Well, he’d heard Heewoo had been working at various places since graduating middle school, so he was a four-year veteran of the working world. Observing the slender face, which was wrapped in his pheromones and looked slightly better than before, he said,

“Then, not for me, but for our grumpy old man.”

Old man? Heewoo’s eyes widened slightly.

“There’s someone called Jung Chunbae.”

Jang Seungyung gestured with his chin, prompting a toast. Heewoo flinched. Jung Chunbae. That was the name of Chairman Geumsan. He hesitated, then spoke, feeling as if he were suffocating.

“Long live Chairman Jang…?”

Jang Seungyung burst out laughing at the barely audible voice. Kwon Heewoo subtly did whatever he was told.

“Alright, alright. Long live you too?”

Clink. The two glasses touched. Jang Seungyung emptied his glass in one gulp. Heewoo steadied his trembling hand, just wetting his lips before setting the glass down.

Contrary to his worries, Jang Seungyung didn’t offer him more alcohol. It was a much more pleasant meal than expected. First of all, the meat was incredibly delicious. Dipping the thick, golden-brown grilled pork belly into the savory roasted grain powder and the sizzling salted anchovy sauce made even fear disappear. Heewoo finished off the tightly packed bowl of rice and the warm zucchini doenjang jjigae.

“You eat well.”

He even received a compliment from the man. On their way out, Jang Seungyung, declaring that it looked good, bought various kinds of large hotbars from a nearby street vendor and piled them into Heewoo’s arms. He was so full he only picked up one at first, but the savory, fishy taste of the hotbar after the meat was so amazing it left him speechless.

Contrary to his anxieties, it was the best meal he’d had in years.

However, a small problem arose unexpectedly.

“Wow, our youngest is finally slacking off and late for work… Huh? Where did you go to grill meat?”

Back in the kitchen, the head chef, who was reprimanding Heewoo for arriving later than usual, furrowed his brow. The savory smell, impossible to hide, emanated from the late youngest.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

He was about to interrogate the youngest, who was quickly putting on his apron, when the elegant glass door connecting the kitchen and the hall opened again, revealing an unexpected figure. It was Jang Seungyung, who had been delayed by a phone call.

“Uh… Hello, sir!”

The head chef greeted him and then involuntarily glanced at Chef Park beside him.

“I’m not the only one who smells that, right?” Sure enough, Chef Park also had a shocked expression. The same meaty smell that clung to Heewoo was wafting strongly from the president’s expensive coat and suit.

The two betas felt as if they understood the woes of an alpha, even if just for a moment. Just like the saying that it’s painful to know things you don’t want to know, it felt like they were getting a sense of something, even if it wasn’t pheromones, but the smell of meat.

“It’s definitely charcoal-grilled,” Chef Park muttered under his breath, avoiding the main point as he passed by. The head chef also returned to his cooking station.

They couldn’t ask the president, “Did you have meat?” as they would Heewoo. The head chef and Chef Park pretended they couldn’t smell anything, as if they had suddenly developed allergies, and focused on their opening preparations.

“Look at your apron. You’re carrying drinks in that?”

“I only work in the kitchen.”

The conversation between the president and the kitchen assistant drifted to them as if it were from another world.

“…….”

After the president left, Heewoo cautiously looked around at the kitchen staff, who didn’t say anything about his tardiness.

‘I’m the sir, do you think I can’t handle one employee being late?’

He hadn’t expected the president, who had said that, to personally accompany him to the kitchen. He wondered if asking him if he worked in the kitchen was part of the plan.

After that, he worked harder than ever. He had no time to wash away the pheromones or the smell of meat. There were many customers that day. He skipped dinner and barely managed to take the new medicine he received from the hospital. Heewoo poured all his energy into helping out as ingredients ran low, soaking and scrubbing the dishes and cups caked with sticky food residue.

Fortunately, closing time came quickly. Around 3 a.m., he dragged his exhausted body back to his room. He desperately wanted to collapse, but he forced himself to wash his fatigue-ridden body and swallowed a couple of painkillers.

“What if I get sick?” Losing consciousness as if fainting due to his poor condition was his last memory.

And the next day, Heewoo woke up feeling remarkably refreshed. Contrary to his worries.

“…….”

Staring blankly at the morning sunlight filtering through the bars of his window, he suddenly remembered a similar morning.

It had been like this then too.

The day after his first visit to the hospital. Back then, his tense body had ached all day, so he took two painkillers and fell asleep, but woke up feeling unexpectedly refreshed.

It didn’t seem to be solely due to the painkillers. Considering his past experiences, Heewoo soon recalled one more common factor besides the painkillers.

Jang Seungyung’s pheromones.

Had his condition improved because he received a pheromone shower from that man? Lost in thought with his sleep-deprived mind, Heewoo got out of bed, figuring it didn’t matter whether it was true or not. Another day requiring his diligence had begun.

✮⋆˙

Around lunchtime, as the Benny employees who lived on-site began to wake up, Heewoo was heating up hotbars in the kitchen. They were the ones the president had bought him yesterday. He hadn’t had time to eat them, so he’d put them in the kitchen refrigerator and only now taken them out.

After carefully arranging the warm hotbars on a covered plate, he headed to the Sunsoo break room. He planned to share them with Daol, from whom he had recently received tteokbokki. He had stopped by Daol’s room on his way to the kitchen, but it was already empty.

He usually didn’t go to the Sunsoo break room. The Sunsoo had their own distinct boundaries. Whether it stemmed from shared experiences or something else, they used slang he’d never heard before and laughed amongst themselves at jokes he couldn’t understand.

Heewoo was the only person who couldn’t laugh among them. When he stood there awkwardly, Daol, who usually laughed along with them from the periphery, would include him, but it wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience.

The break room door was open. A Sunsoo with a beauty mark tattooed on the tip of his nose listened to Heewoo’s inquiry.

“Daol? He’s out on oegyo.”

Winking with a fresh, makeup-free face, the Sunsoo scanned Heewoo up and down. Just then, another Sunsoo sitting in a swivel chair burst into laughter, pointing at the plate of hotbars.

“Our place doesn’t do oegyo anymore.”

A voice cut in. It was Madam Won. She entered, holding a tablet that presumably contained a list of debts, and joined the conversation naturally.

“Did Daol tell you that? That he was going on oegyo?”

Madam Won asked the Sunsoo with the beauty mark. Her lips, coated in light lipstick, curved into a gentle smile, but everyone in the break room knew it wasn’t a positive sign.

“He must not have known. He didn’t know… he lied to us.”

The beauty mark Sunsoo said, rolling his eyes as if gauging the mood, then giving a slight smile.

“So he intentionally didn’t tell us.”

Madam Won crossed her arms as if amused. Daol had always been somewhat of an outsider among the Sunsoos. She’d have to wait for Daol’s return to know for sure, but Madam Won wasn’t pleased that Daol had gone out without telling her.

Heewoo slowly backed away while Madam Won and the Sunsoos were facing off. Fortunately, no one stopped him as he bowed to Madam Won and crossed the threshold.

Oegyo was a general term for business activities where escorts went outside the establishment to directly solicit customers, such as handing out business cards.

If Daol had really lied, why would he go to such lengths to go out?

‘Why did that guy come back, anyway? He must have confided in you.’

He suddenly remembered the head chef asking him about Daol. Contrary to the head chef’s words, Daol had never talked about himself to Heewoo. Not even with lies.

Returning to the empty kitchen, Heewoo sat alone with the now lukewarm hotbars. Normally, he would have gone to Madam Won or Mingeon, but neither were available. Mingeon had been avoiding him since the incident in the president’s office.

He picked up a cooled hotbar and chewed it thoughtfully.

“…Oh.”

It was delicious. Enough to make him forget all his worries for a moment.

Impressed by the chewy, handmade hotbar, which was likely packed with fish, Heewoo took out the thin English vocabulary book he kept under the juice counter. He was going to study and finish his late but delicious lunch.

The closed glass door opened, and a polished shoe tip appeared.

“You’re still eating that?”

It was Jang Seungyung. Heewoo put down the hotbar he was eating and stood up, greeting the tall, sleek president from head to toe.