My Company Is Black

#013

Hwi-kyung’s neighbor continued to scold Gyo-ha for a long time, huffing and puffing. The complaint about knocking on the door in the morning and waking up their sensitive child went on for over 10 minutes.

Gyo-ha, who hadn’t been able to refute a single word and stood there dumbfounded, didn’t immediately notice when Hwi-kyung’s front door opened.

“What’s going on?”

Jung Hwi-kyung, who had been silent all along, looked at his neighbor and superior facing off in front of his house. He was wearing a sweat-soaked t-shirt, baggy sweatpants, and had a dark bruise on his face.

“…Mr. Jung Hwi-kyung?”

“…”

“What happened to your face?”

“…Come in for now.”

Hwi-kyung quickly grabbed Gyo-ha’s wrist. It wasn’t good to have a dispute in the apartment building. He couldn’t afford to be kicked out before finding a new place to move. Gyo-ha obediently followed Hwi-kyung into his house.

Then he marveled.

Wow, can humans really live in such a small space? This was a thought only someone who had lived in a studio in the heart of New York without worrying about rent could have.

“What brings you here?”

Regardless of Lee Gyo-ha’s bourgeois thoughts, Jung Hwi-kyung felt like he was dying from nausea. To make matters worse, he had fainted face-first on the bathroom floor, hitting his face on the hard tiles and getting a bruise.

Anyone who saw it would think he had been beaten by someone. It wasn’t in a place that could be covered by a mask, so it didn’t seem like good gossip would spread.

It was clear that strange rumors would circulate in the company again. Bored office workers, like hyenas searching for dopamine, particularly enjoyed talking about others.

Hwi-kyung simulated in his head the scene of rumors spreading that he was a man being beaten by his partner or definitely a victim of domestic violence. That level was not yet enough for forced regression.

“I asked what happened to your face.”

Inadequate conditions: Your superior shows personal interest in you.

Inadequate conditions: Your superior obtained your personal number.

Inadequate conditions: Your superior found out your address.

Inadequate conditions: Your superior entered your home.

The problem wasn’t such gossip, but Lee Gyo-ha. Jung Hwi-kyung unconsciously sighed, his head aching. It bothered him more that Gyo-ha had come all the way here than the bruise on his face.

To begin with, Hwi-kyung had just been unconscious with his face on the bathroom floor until moments ago. He couldn’t make proper judgments, having regained consciousness only recently.

“I called in sick today.”

“I know.”

“You shouldn’t come looking for someone who you know called in sick.”

“…”

“How did you get my personal number?”

“I was worried, so I asked someone else.”

“I find this extremely unpleasant.”

Inadequate conditions: You directly expressed displeasure to your superior.

It’s hard for sick people to be polite. Hwi-kyung rubbed his throbbing face and muttered irritably.

“Really, not even letting me rest properly…”

It was a sincere sentiment he couldn’t hide. To think his superior would come to his house after he called in sick and fainted. Even the gift set of drinks in Gyo-ha’s hands seemed annoying.

“Please go back. I’ll come to work as usual on Monday.”

“…”

“I’ve already handed over the schedule to Manager Kang early this morning.”

“Hwi-kyung.”

“Why did you come here?”

“Have you been to the hospital?”

“…”

“You look pale.”

The annoying superior casually placed his hand on Hwi-kyung’s forehead.

Damn American influence…. Hwi-kyung cursed all the high-teen American dramas on Enflix. People influenced by American culture clearly didn’t understand the etiquette of Confucian countries. Otherwise, they wouldn’t suddenly visit someone’s house and check their temperature.

“You have a high fever.”

“It’s the flu, it’s contagious.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital. And buy some porridge too.”

“…Why?”

“What?”

“I’ll come to work as usual on Monday.”

Hwi-kyung repeated the words “come to work as usual” like a broken doll. Gyo-ha was rather confused by Hwi-kyung’s attitude. He hadn’t expected gratitude, but why insist on coming to work when offered a ride to the hospital?

To Gyo-ha, who wasn’t familiar with Korean corporate culture, Hwi-kyung seemed out of his mind. He clearly wasn’t well, yet he insisted on coming to work next week. Did he love the company that much?

“Coming to work is all well and good, but let’s go to the hospital first.”

“I’ll go by myself.”

“As if you would. If you could go by yourself, why haven’t you gone until now?”

I couldn’t go because I fainted in the bathroom, not because I didn’t want to go….

Hwi-kyung kept his mouth shut, unable to say this. Having regained consciousness after fainting once, he felt less dizzy than at dawn, but nausea kept rising. He wasn’t vomiting only because he hadn’t eaten anything.

“There’s no parking here, so I parked a bit far. I’ll bring the car around, so answer when I call this time.”

“…”

“I’m sorry for suddenly coming to your house too. I got worried when I heard you suddenly called in sick. You’re not the type to take a day off for being sick, so I thought you might have gotten seriously ill after coming on the business trip with me.”

The phrase “you’re not the type to take a day off for being sick” stabbed at a corner of Hwi-kyung’s heart. What did he know to talk as if he knew everything about him? But Gyo-ha was right. Hwi-kyung wasn’t the type to rest for minor illnesses.

“I’ll bring the car around, so answer when I call. Get dressed and come down to the first floor.”

He wanted to run away somewhere. Hwi-kyung couldn’t believe he was showing such a miserable state to a company person, and worse, receiving help from the parachute executive director who had been tormenting him.

But the system window that determined black companies didn’t seem to consider unwanted help from a superior as “black.” At least, no new window appeared until Gyo-ha left to get his car.

Hwi-kyung kept his eyes closed the entire way to the hospital. It might look like a kind of protest, but he really had no choice because he felt so unwell. Vomiting in Gyo-ha’s car, which was clearly foreign? The thought alone was the worst.

“Are you okay?”

“…”

“Bear with it a little longer. We’ll be there soon.”

“…Yes.”

“If you feel like throwing up, just do it.”

As if I’d do that on these expensive leather seats….

Hwi-kyung still had some sense left. Throwing up on these car seats was something he couldn’t do unless he was literally on the verge of death. He could probably pay for the cleaning, but that would be an unnecessary expense.

He had been trying to endure even going to the emergency room because it seemed wasteful, so he couldn’t break down here. Hwi-kyung buried himself in the passenger seat backrest, biting his lips tightly.

* * *

This time, Lee Gyo-ha was truly shocked.

“Concussion?”

“It’s not severe, but it seems he hit his head hard.”

“Mr. Jung Hwi-kyung?”

“…I fainted briefly in the bathroom.”

After hearing the doctor’s diagnosis, Gyo-ha couldn’t see Jung Hwi-kyung as the same person. He woke up at dawn feeling unwell, fainted in the bathroom, hit his head directly on the tile floor, and got a concussion? And he still says he’ll come to work as usual on Monday?

No matter how much one loves their company, this is too much (If Jung Hwi-kyung knew what Gyo-ha was thinking, Gyo-ha would surely be strangled). Why was he being so stubborn when he must have had some idea of his condition?

“Do you like the company that much?”

“…”

“Insisting on coming to work in this condition.”

“…”

“It seems you should rest for at least a few more days. A concussion shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

“…I’m fine.”

A concussion, as Gyo-ha said, shouldn’t be taken lightly. Hwi-kyung wasn’t taking it lightly either. He was just parroting that he was fine because he had something he believed in.

Jung Hwi-kyung knew that he wouldn’t die from something like this.

How many regression people who have regressed thirteen times haven’t attempted suicide even once? Hwi-kyung attempted suicide in his sixth cycle. His grandmother had passed away, and he was left with a lot of debt. He was working day labor jobs at the time.

So-called manual labor surprisingly suited Hwi-kyung’s constitution. He could work without thinking. However, Hwi-kyung, who was repeatedly experiencing his grandmother’s death, couldn’t shake off the rapidly oncoming depression just by constantly moving.

So that’s when he first attempted suicide. Because if he died, it might all end. He rented a shabby motel room and hung a wire from the light fixture. Then he hanged himself from it.

But contrary to his expectations, there was no end. Jung Hwi-kyung opened his eyes again in a state that felt like death. He was sure he had hanged himself, but when he woke up, he was on the damp bed of the motel. The light fixture was still there, but the wire had disappeared.

Inadequate conditions: You attempted suicide.

Do you want to regress?

He couldn’t even die before escaping from the black company. What kind of situation is this after making one wrong wish? Jung Hwi-kyung burst into laughter like a madman. He buried his face in the motel bed and laughed like a lunatic.

This is ridiculous. I can’t even die on my own terms? My grandmother had to die six times because of me? This was truly absurd.

Jung Hwi-kyung pressed ‘N’ to the question of whether to regress. Then he started living the life of a day laborer again. When he turned thirty, Jung Hwi-kyung was forced to regress because he “hadn’t gotten a proper job.”