TCBW C33

Chapter 33

“I couldn’t attend school… due to personal circumstances. As for work, I took this job because I wanted to learn as much as I can, while I can.”

His voice was low, but each word carried the marks of careful thought.

Even without revealing anything more about his situation, everyone present could sense there was some unspoken pain behind it.

So, no one dared to press him further.

An awkward, quiet atmosphere followed.

“Chief, aren’t we working today? It’s already three‑thirty! And why haven’t the morning‑shift people gone home yet? Ugh~ gross. All of you go. We’ve got work too!”

At that moment, Seo‑jun stepped in between Suhoe and the others.

“Yeah, let’s give the newbies space to change clothes. Jun, go grab a set for Suhoe.”

The chief, Gyubeom, played along with an awkward smile, ushering the others toward the door.

Seo‑jun’s casual, brazen tone loosened the stiffness in the air. Soon, the staff began saying their goodbyes to Suhoe in a slightly regretful way and filed out of the office.

Once the door closed, silence fell again as if the earlier noise had never been. Seo‑jun let out a sigh of relief and gave Suhoe’s back a light pat.

“Whew… finally, they’re gone. That was rough, huh?”

“Mm. It was fine. It’s been a while since I’ve been in such a lively place. I actually feel a little bad—like the mood soured after I answered them.”

“Nah, it’s the fault of whoever asked that. Not yours—don’t worry about it.”

Seo‑jun reached out to ruffle his hair reassuringly.

“Now… what should I give you to wear… Let’s see.”

After a moment’s thought, he asked:

“You’re a dominant‑type omega male, right?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“We don’t have a separate omega set… This one’s a large size for beta women, but it should fit you OK. Take your time changing and come out.”

Seo‑jun handed him a uniform with a playful wink, then gathered his own clothes and stepped outside.

“Hey, Jun.”

It was then that a voice came.

“Gah—! What are you doing here?”

Manager Jang Gyubeom, standing in the hallway with a grave expression, approached.

When Jun turned in surprise, Gyubeom quickly pressed a finger to his lips.

“Shh. Keep it down.”

“Why? There’s a young omega changing in there—this is inappropriate.”

“You idiot, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Jun folded his arms and looked down at the shorter man with irritation.

Glancing around to be sure no other janitorial staff were nearby, Gyubeom spoke quietly:

“That kid—Suhoe. Keep an eye on him.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just… don’t ask for details. Just watch him.”

“Why though?”

Why? Because he didn’t know who Suhoe really was.

From his appearance and what little he’d said, it was obvious the boy had some sort of backstory, but Gyubeom couldn’t understand why the president’s personal secretary had specifically placed him in the janitorial team.

If Jun kept close, maybe they’d learn something. So he came up with the quickest, easiest reason Jun might accept.

“…He’s… frail.”

That made Jun recall the way Suhoe had staggered at the main entrance earlier.

“No way—! So, like… he’s too weak to even attend school, but finally decided to step into the working world for the first time, and now he’s here, clinging to this job as something he really wants to do?”

Jun whispered the words, eyes bright, his large hand cupped beside his mouth. Gyubeom just nodded; he couldn’t think of a better excuse. Fine—that would do as their cover story.

“Right. So… if he meets any sketchy people or does anything suspicious, let me know immediately.”

“Understood! I’ll keep my eyes open and report right away!”

Gyubeom clicked his tongue inwardly at Jun’s overly eager answer.

Realistically, seeing how scrawny and timid Suhoe was, he might quit within a few days. Still—if they were lucky, they could learn something about his identity.

While the elevator carried them upward, Suhoe silently fussed with his clothing. The dark‑blue jumpsuit still didn’t feel like it belonged to him.

Seo‑jun poked him in the cheek to break his awkwardness.

“You don’t need to be so nervous. Big jobs’re handled by outside contractors. If anything’s too tough, just call me.”

“Mm. Thanks.”

He gave a small nod and clenched his fist in resolve.

Jun’s gaze lingered. The line of Suhoe’s neck above the collar, the wrists showing at the sleeves—evidence enough why Gyubeom might call him “frail.” His build was beyond just slender. And now Jun noticed red marks, unseen earlier, hinting that this was someone in a precarious situation.

Feigning casualness, Jun spoke:

“Your collar’s folded.”

“Huh? Where?”

Flustered, Suhoe patted clumsily around his neck.

“Here?”

“Nope.”

“Here?”

Jun reached out. Pretending to adjust the collar, he tugged the fabric aside.

“No—here.”

His fingertips brushed the nape of Suhoe’s neck.

“…”

“J‑Jun? Are you done?”

In that instant, Jun confirmed he hadn’t been mistaken.

Just beneath the jumpsuit collar were dark, distinct bruises, fresh‑enough to still be vivid — and in a place unlikely to come from mere frailty.

Suhoe’s voice was faintly trembling now.

“Jun… are you finished?”

His face momentarily serious, Jun quickly masked it, letting go and finishing the “adjustment.”

“Yeah, all done. Don’t worry about it.”

Were those… from someone hitting him? The thought was unsettling, but Jun shook it off. Whatever he’d just seen, he’d act as though he hadn’t.

He offered his usual easy smile.

Suhoe, cheeks flushed, self‑consciously patted the spot where Jun’s hand had been, then checked the rest of his clothes.

Ding—

The elevator reached its destination and the doors slid open.

Waiting outside were suited employees — and in their eyes, what they saw was a young alpha and a blushing omega standing close together in a small space.

Low murmurs of surprise slipped from their lips. Some averted their gaze as if they’d seen something they shouldn’t; one even whispered, “Let’s take the next one,” to a companion.

“Not coming in?”

Jun, holding the door‑open button with a calm expression, addressed those outside.

Not understanding why others were hesitating, a late‑arriving employee called out:

“Why not? We’re getting in!”

That broke the tension, and the hesitant group filed in quickly.

Soon the small space was packed. Jun naturally drew Suhoe toward the corner by the wall and raised an arm above him to make some breathing room.

“Didn’t think it’d fill up this much.”

He gave an embarrassed smile.

The situation was unfamiliar to Suhoe as well, so he returned an awkward question:

“Um… where are we going?”

“Us? Hm.”

Jun could feel all ears nearby tuned to them. With a deliberately mischievous smile, he lowered his voice:

“Somewhere really private.”

The air in the elevator shifted again, subtly abuzz.

When the next ding sounded, people stepped out trying to look casual, though many cast sidelong glances back — and before long, whispers began linking “the pretty young janitorial couple” and “private place” together with loaded meaning.

Once the doors shut and they were alone, Jun stepped back as if nothing had happened.

“Watching the older folks get flustered never gets old. Guess I’m still a kid at heart.”

Suhoe, not understanding what he found funny, asked innocently:

“So where is it?”

Jun couldn’t hold back and laughed.

“The president’s office! Most private place in the whole company. We’re going to clean it.”

“Ah!”

At that, Suhoe nodded, finally getting it — still oblivious to the misunderstanding they’d just sparked.

The floor they alighted on felt immediately different from the lower levels. Only one heavy‑doored elevator connected to it, cut off from the rest of the building.

“From here on, it’s the president and his secretaries’ private domain. Even we cleaners can only come up during authorized hours, with this key.”

With that, Jun pulled out a key and unlocked the gate with practiced ease.

“Different world up here,” he muttered.

And just as he said, the second elevator’s interior was lavish to the point of feeling out of place — silent and without the faintest sway.