“We’ll proceed in the order of the Display Materials Development Team, the Battery Materials Development Team, Basic Materials Development Team 1, and Basic Materials Development Team 2.”
Was it a relief to be last, he wondered — Eunseo stared at the introduction material filling his laptop screen, struggling to dredge up old memories. He’d made it around last summer, so the order and contents were a little hazy.
Then he felt as if eyes were touching the crown of his head and jerked his head up, but no one was looking at him. Eunseo’s gaze brushed past Han Jaeheon — who was gazing only at the screen ahead — with some bewilderment, then moved back to his laptop screen.
Team leaders were team leaders for a reason, apparently. Despite the sudden demand, they carried on with their introductions quite smoothly, and Eunseo soon faced his own turn. Cold sweat beaded softly on his palms. Eunseo rubbed his palms against his trousers a few times and stood up. The back of his neck began to burn red under the gazes gathering on his face, but he forced himself to ignore it and began the team introduction, looking at the screen.
“Good day. I’m Senior Researcher Shin Eunseo of the Basic Introduction Development Team 2.” The moment his name was out, he couldn’t help but check Han Jaeheon’s face. But Jaeheon still showed not a flicker of emotional change. Eunseo fully tucked away the disappointment he must have shown without realizing, and opened his mouth again.
“team leader Ahn Juhan is on a business trip, so I’ll introduce the team and the division of duties in his place.” Eunseo was about to start with the Basic Materials Business Division when Han Jaeheon’s gesture stopped him.
“You may skip the business division introduction.”
A kind, warm voice — a tone truly rare to hear at the company. Eunseo flinched to a stop, then hurriedly bowed his head and clattered at his laptop’s space bar. After skipping about six pages, the business division introduction was all passed.
Fortunately, when he opened his mouth, his voice came out properly, and from his hazy memory the introductory sentences came to mind quite well.
As if memorized, he fluently delivered the team’s current main duties and division of labor, along with the team’s track record.
Thinking this hadn’t been so bad, he lowered his gaze — which had been wandering in midair — toward the audience. Just as he was wondering whether he could sit down, Han Jaeheon, who had been spinning a fountain pen over the back of his hand, snatched it up and opened his mouth.
“Senior Shin Eunseo.”
“…Yes?”
“First, well done on the introduction.”
Until now, after the other team leaders’ presentations, Han Jaeheon had said nothing. He’d only gestured as if to say sit down. But now he was calling Eunseo by name, acting as if he had something more to say, and Eunseo found it deeply ominous.
He thought he saw a hallucination of the air trembling with tension. Eunseo pressed his lips tight, wanting somehow to avoid the gazes fixed on him, but there was no way. Standing alone in the meeting room, receiving everyone’s stares, was truly exhausting.
“As I understand it, I heard that last year Team 2 achieved quite a significant efficiency improvement related to naphtha, but I don’t see anything about it here?”
“Ah, yes, that is…?”
“Was it left out because it isn’t your own work?”
Eunseo shook his head in shock before he knew it, and opened his mouth, frozen stiff with surprise. Shaking his head like a child in a setting like this — along with the shame, what Han Jaeheon had asked sounded as if he were implying Eunseo had deliberately omitted it because it wasn’t his own achievement, and anger made the back of his neck burn all the way up.
“No. The improvement you mentioned was applied last November, so it isn’t in this introduction material, which was written last August.”
“Hmm… then could you update it and send it by tomorrow morning?”
“…….”
“The head of a department would be embarrassed knowing only content from seven months ago, wouldn’t he?”
Han Jaeheon asked, his eyes smiling. Under that subtle yet powerful pressure, Eunseo had no choice but to answer meekly, despite the absurd deadline.
“Yes, understood.”
“And just now you said your own duties were diversifying ABS products and custom-improving products to fit client requests, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
What was he going to ask now? Eunseo found himself repeating a clenching and unclenching of his fists. White bone rose and vanished over the backs of his hands. Han Jaeheon heard Eunseo’s answer but said nothing for a moment.
“Do you think improving the products we already sell aligns with future business development? I think we ought to focus a bit more on developing new products than on improving existing ones.”
Eunseo, who hadn’t expected such a question at all, couldn’t even part his lips. He was only in his fourth year at the company, a senior researcher of barely three full years, the youngest of the team. Of course, in principle he shared the company’s vision and sympathized with it and intended to follow it, but… what did such thoughts matter — it was a company he worked at to earn money.
Besides, ABS was a truly old plastic resin — how were they supposed to develop new products from it? Easy to say; this was the kind of problem that arose when someone who’d never worked in the field came in as a big shot.
“I’m not saying this to criticize you, Senior.”
“…Yes.”
“I was just curious if you had any other thoughts.”
“Don’t you agree? I’ve now heard all four teams’ introductions, and most of them seem to be focusing on improving existing products rather than new development.”
Han Jaeheon said, turning his gaze to the CTO. For a very brief moment, Eunseo felt sorry for the CTO, who was sweating buckets in the early-spring chill before a man young enough to be his son, struggling to swallow back excuses.
“…It’s true that until now we’ve placed emphasis on improvement and optimization. But realizing that the company feels a great thirst for new business, this year we intend to completely overhaul our constitution.”
“Yes, all the development-team people here will be moved directly under me, but other departments will also need to give a great deal of support to new business.”
At words thick with warning, utterly mismatched to the gentle tone, Eunseo barely managed to rub down the goosebumps rising on his arms over his clothes. In other words, what Han Jaeheon had just said was — to the CTO: ‘You’ve been doing a shit job all this time, so your standing has shrunk. So just back me up hard.’ And to the development teams: ‘I’m taking you with me and I’ll work you even if I have to beat it into you, so brace yourselves.’
Having finished speaking, Han Jaeheon — his expression coolly set — met the eyes of the development team leaders and the CTO one by one, then looked at Eunseo again.
“The reason I asked you specifically, Senior, is that I remember so strongly how you looked when you taught me quantum mechanics back then — I thought I might receive your teaching again this time.” Eunseo stood frozen like a stone where he stood. It was something he hadn’t even imagined would come up at this point. Han Jaeheon gazed quietly at his blanched-white face and smiled brightly, as if his having ignored Eunseo like a total stranger until now had been a lie. The softly curving eyes and mouth were so striking that everyone in the meeting room lost their words. All the more so because of the sweet pheromones spreading like perfume.
“Do you two know each other?”
“Yes, he was my lecture TA when I was in university.”
“Ahh…”
The CTO looked at Eunseo with a meaningful gaze.
“I was very lacking, so I caused you a lot of trouble.”
Of course he had caused a great deal of trouble, but what did that matter now. Eunseo clasped his cold hands together and tensed like a criminal just before execution.
“Good work.”
The one who had dragged Eunseo up to the execution ground was Han Jaeheon, and the one who had pulled him down and spared his life was Han Jaeheon too. Eunseo barely suppressed the urge to vomit and managed to sit down.
“You’ve all worked hard. Let’s have a simple dinner together.” Han Jaeheon proposed a company dinner that no one would want. But Eunseo looked around and was dumbfounded to find that he was the only one who didn’t want it. People at team-leader level and above really did seem to live in a different world.
“Senior, you must come too.”
Han Jaeheon, rising from his seat, deliberately approached Eunseo — who was packing up his laptop — and whispered. Startled by the sensation as if lips had touched his ear, Eunseo flinched backward, and he smiled all the more deeply. Eunseo tore his gaze from that smooth face with effort and struggled to turn away from him.
“…I have a prior engagement today, so I don’t think I can.”
“With whom?”
“Jin Seunghu?”
Why would Jin Seunghu come up here? Eunseo looked at him, bewildered, and Han Jaeheon smiled a little again.
“I’ve already received the org chart. There’s a Dr. Jin Seunghu on a dispatched contract in Basic Materials Development Team 1.”
“Senior Jin Seunghu… isn’t the one.”
“Is that so?”
Han Jaeheon gazed quietly at Eunseo, as if asking who the engagement was with, then opened his mouth.
“If it’s not an important engagement, wouldn’t it be better to attend?” Eunseo squeezed his eyes shut and opened them without realizing it. Han Jaeheon was an executive director, and he was a mere researcher. Moreover, now that the executive director had spoken like that, the division heads and team leaders below him would all be unable to refuse, and they would surely pressure him too.
Wasn’t this a bit cruel — Han Jaeheon could already twist his emotions and even his body now as he pleased, and with this, even his daily life would become something Jaeheon could shake as he wished. But nothing in the world was fair. Eunseo bit down hard on his lip, then opened his mouth.
“Yes, understood.”
“Then I’ll see you at the restaurant.”
Having achieved his aim, Han Jaeheon left the meeting room first, and the higher-ups filed out after him in a rush. Eunseo stood alone in the empty meeting room for a moment, then packed his laptop and came out last, but he could hardly remember how he got back to the lab. Standing blankly before his desk, gazing at his laptop screen whose battery was already dead, Eunseo could only let out a sigh.
“Senior Shin, ride with me.”
“…Yes, thank you.”
“I think it’ll just be dinner, so don’t feel burdened. I’ll be on the first floor, so come right down.” The Display Materials Development Team leader tapped Eunseo’s shoulder and walked past. Breathing deeply, Eunseo tidied his desk and pressed hard against his chest, which was heaving with his racing pulse, then let go. But unlike that coursing blood, his complexion was pale to the point of looking bluish.
Leave a Reply