My Boss is a CHICKEN?!

Our eyes were still locked.

His stupid smirk was still glued to his stupidly perfect face like it paid rent there.

Finally—finally—he stood up straight after what felt like a ten-year yoga stretch. Then, with that same smirk doing cardio on his lips, he stepped back.

I inhaled. Like, first breath after being drowned inhaled.

Freedom? No.

Just momentary oxygen before the next verbal war.

I gulped.

"…Can I get a deadline extension?"

"No."

"What about emotional support?"

"Do I look like your therapist?" You don't, but the trauma you cause might require one.

I sighed dramatically.

Oscar worthy.

Titanic who?

"It's not that bad, Mira," I told myself.

Lying.

To myself.

Bold move.

"Atleast I don't turn into a chicken every night" I mumbled under my breath, brain clearly not connected to my survival instincts.

And that's when I remembered… this man has the hearing range of a freaking bat.

No, worse. An owl. A vengeful, fashionably dressed owl.

Why did I say that? 

Was that necessary?

Silence.

The kind of silence that could make flowers wilt.

That could summon judgment from five generations of ancestors.

Jump off a cliff mira.

He looked at me.

Not like a boss.

Not like a human.

Like a serial killer trying to decide which weapon to use.

He's probably mentally calculating if prison is worth committing murder.

"I-I'm sorry…" I muttered, shrinking in my chair.

I shouldn't have said the chicken thing...

"You're going to study the complete files today itself by the way" he ordered.

Holy K-Drama gods, give me strength.

STUDYING?! ME?!

I didn't even get my Master's degree because I didn't wanna study anymore. 

I survived high school and college through strategic cheating and selective participation.

And now I was expected to study a literal encyclopedia about labour?!

"You can't do this to me!" I blurted.

"Mr. Jeon, what did I do to deserve this?!"

WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!

Should I even be asking that?

Like—girl, be for real.

Let's recap:

1. Trespassed into his mansion like I was auditioning for Mission: Impossible.

2. Discovered his most cursed, magical, poultry-themed secret.

3. Threatened him with it.

4. Called him a chicken to his face.

5. And now I'm shocked he wants revenge??

He flared his nose.

Nose. Flare. Alert.

That's his final stage before spontaneous combustion.

He snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, I was at my assigned desk in Team 1's department with a mountain of files taller than my hopes and dreams.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

…

Mr Jeon was nowhere to be seen.

Well, at least I could suffer in peace now.

Except these files… 

They weren't files. 

They were the encyclopedia of suffering. 

500+ files?!

And I had to finish them by 5 PM?!

Are you kidding me?!

I pulled one open, ready to fake-read, when my phone buzzed. I jumped like I'd been tased.

I immediately hit silent mode. If anyone saw, I'd be reported faster than you can say "unemployment."

I peeked at the screen.

Yuna.

I checked left and right.

Nobody in sight.

The coast was clear. 

No snitches in sight.

I picked up the call.

"Hello?" I whispered like I was in an underground spy meeting.

"B!tch, how did your interview go?" she whispered.

Of course.She was probably hiding under her desk at work too.

"That cruel Jeon asked me to study five hundred files by 5 PM."

"You're rehired?!"

"I… guess so?"

"Yay! So you're gonna pay for my therapy again."

I laughed…

while internally sobbing.

How was I going to finish all this?

"I don't think I'll survive here more than a week, Yuna. Mr. Jeon's playing revenge games."

"You called it yourself" she snorted.

"Did I know it'd turn into corporate Hunger Games?!"

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat.

My soul left my body.

I looked up.

Mr Jo.

Jo Minjae.

Head of Team 1.

Office heartthrob.

The reason half the staff wears lipstick to Zoom meetings.

Also known as Mr. Elevator Proposal Fantasy.

Wait—have I introduced him before? 

Too bad. He deserves a second entrance.

I instantly ended the call and sat up like a nun caught in a rap battle.

"You know this could get you terminated, right?" he said, placing another file on my desk.

Why are they multiplying?!

But his tone was surprisingly soft. Not the drill sergeant tone he usually uses.

"F-Family emergency…" I lied without blinking.

"Did your grandma die again?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wait—was that… teasing?

I closed my eyes in shame.

Even HE knows about Grandma-Gate?!

"I—I was just kidding, Miss Kim" he backtracked instantly, panic flashing in his eyes.

"I'm sorry for making fun of your grandma… I hope she's in a better place."

Sir, you just went from sass to sympathy in 0.3 seconds.

Pick a lane.

"Did I trigger you, Miss Kim?" he asked, voice unsure.

Aw…

Is he making sure I'm okay?

Checking in on my emotional state??

What a gentleman…

Wait. No. NO. STOP, MIRA.

Get. A. Grip.

Stop swooning every time a man uses basic manners.

"Haha, it's alright," I said. "I bet she's in hell anyway."

His smile froze. His eyebrows did a little jump. His soul briefly left his body.

WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!

He looked horrified.

Like—girl… let the poor woman rest in peace.

"NOT that I hate her!" I panicked, my hands frailing. "It's just—she always said she wanted to go to hell, you know? She manifested it. I hope she got what she wanted."

"Are you joking or being serious?" he asked, blinking at me like I'd just cursed three generations of my ancestors and his.

Excuse me?! I'm deeply offended. Why does he think I'm lying?!

"What made you think I'm lying?!" I huffed, arms crossing with the kind of conviction only possessed by people who absolutely are lying but want to be believed.

He burst out laughing.

Sir, are you laughing because I'm funny, or because you're concerned for my bloodline?

Either way, I'll take it.

"You're such a mood Mira" he said.

Hold up.

Did he just—

Call me Mira??

No Miss? No Kim??

No awkward formality like we're in a tax meeting??

We're on a first name basis now??

"— sorry. I mean Miss Kim" he added. Am I supposed to say "It's okay" and pretend my heart didn't do a triple backflip?

Are you blushing Mira?

STOP BLUSHING.

"No no, I-it's alright" I stammered, completely flustered and emotionally malfunctioning like a broken vending machine.

"Mira would actually do" I replied, trying to sound chill… and totally not like I was having internal crisis.

"We're not even friends to begin with" he replied, raising a brow.

"Then... let's become one?" I shot back with a grin, surprising even myself.

He chuckled again.

"Sure—after stepping out of this company." Excuse me?? Did he just schedule our friendship for post-employment?!

"Come on, let's get back to work before Mr. Jeon kicks both of us out this time," he said, casually strolling away like he didn't just drop a flirty corporate threat combo on me.

He turned "Welcome to Team 1 by the way" Mr. Jo said professionally—completely ignoring the chaos aura I was radiating like a broken Wi-Fi signal.

I smiled. "Nice to meet you personally by the way, Mr. Jo."

He turned. "Let's not say 'personally' so casually." he said, half-smirking. "See you after work, Miss Kim."

With that, he vanished into his cabin—but not without giving me one last look.

Damn. This man really is the rom-com lead.

GIRL, WHAT THE HELL?!

This is a workplace, not a Wattpad slow-burn romance.

I didn't even realize when time passed.

Next thing I knew, it was suddenly 3 PM.

One minute I was dramatically manifesting my love life and swearing revenge on Mr. Jeon, and then it was suddenly 3 PM.

I blinked up at the ceiling, questioning my existence, my career choices, and whether this was a prank by the universe or just straight-up karma doing gymnastics on me.

Because there was no way it was already 3 PM unless I accidentally blacked out during my sixth mental breakdown.

Had I time-traveled?

Fainted?

Entered a coma?!

I had just two hours left till death.

And had only completed 5 files. 

Out of 500.

That's like 1%.

I banged my forehead lightly against the desk. 

"Is this my punishment for being born hot but academically lazy?"

I would've sold my soul to the Devil if he promised to reduce the pile.

...

Suddenly, I noticed a shift in the atmosphere.

The air turned tense.

Someone whisper-yelled with the urgency of a spy delivering top-secret intel making the entire office turned into a survival game.

People started speed-walking like their rent depended on it.

What is the commotion about?

Earthquake?

Fire drill??

Imminent zombie apocalypse???

Nope.

It was worse.

"Mr. Jeon is on our floor!"