NLFSD Chapter 116

Chapter 116 – Extra Episode 16

There’s a rumor that Assistant Lee Jiwoon of Marketing Team 1 was driven mad by overwork. Word had it he’d been burned so often by unreachable vendors and home‑shopping hosts who misdescribed products that he’d become a wreck.

Appointed just last month as Sehwa Group’s newest junior, Assistant Kim — who saw only the crown of her trainer Lee Jiwoon’s head over the partition — was always on edge about him. He looked every inch the born‑beautiful Omega, but every call to a vendor had him threatening to smash the handset, and any home‑shopping mishap had him vowing to storm their HQ — frankly, it was scary.

When teaching work, though, he was patient, explaining at her level again and again; for that, she was grateful. He’d suddenly hand over coffee, saying new hires should be treated — cool as anything. But every time she witnessed him snap, her innards went cold.

So assertive, so angry. Not an ordinary temperament.

She respected him — and resolved to move carefully in front of him.

One day, while she hunched through newbie life, lunchtime rolled around. The team usually ate together, but Jiwoon told them to leave him out.

“Upset stomach?”

“In… a manner of speaking. I’m fuming. I’m fine — enjoy lunch. Use this to grab coffees on the way back.”

When he produced a black card, Assistant Kim flapped her hands, alarmed.

“No, that’s alright!”

“Get the pricey ones. Largest size.”

“Thank you, Assistant!”

“Use the card. Even buy mugs or tumblers if you like.”

“Even saying that is kind.”

Deputy Min Hye‑gyeong gave a thumbs‑up.

At the restaurant, while waiting for food, staff traded small talk: managers had fought in the morning meeting; someone notorious was transferring to some branch. Office gossip, mostly. Then Deputy Min blurted:

“By the way, I think Assistant Lee and the Director will clash today.”

“Yeah, the vibe’s off.”

Manager Park chimed in.

They mean Assistant Lee…? Assistant Kim’s ears pricked.

“He’s really been boiling lately. He’s held it in a long time.”

“Both are quietly stubborn. They act like they’ll yield — then say everything they think. Hope it doesn’t explode and freeze the room.”

“Nah. They don’t tangle in public. If anything, they’ll summon each other to the roof.”

Assistant and Director… fight? They’re not the same rank…?

Assistant Kim didn’t understand, and didn’t pry — Jiwoon radiated a don’t‑poke‑me aura.

While the seniors went for coffee, she headed back early. Sauntering the hall, thinking of lounging in the break room — a blinding glow detonated.

“You’re the new hire, right? Assistant Kim?”

The company’s legend — walking corporate welfare, the talent stolen from the entertainment industry — Director Seo Taecheon, shone. They worked on the same floor, but he traveled often; even on office days he was in his suite, so seeing him up close never happened.

Good heavens. I’ve never seen such a handsome human. He’s a statue… how is a nose that tall possible? His features were bold, as if painted with a broad brush.

She couldn’t move, as if her heels were glued. He was tall, shoulders insanely broad, big enough for two smaller people.

Why would someone like that talk to me? She shook herself.

“Yes. I’ve joined Marketing Team 1.”

“Ah, the smart one. This isn’t about that — find Assistant Lee Jiwoon and tell him to come to my office.”

“Assistant Lee?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else to pass along?”

He furrowed his brow, then gave a faint, mischievous smile — like a boy plotting a prank. Assistant Kim nearly toppled.

Since joining, this was the first time she’d seen him smile. He was known for no expression. The seniors had said so — what was happening?

Her heart thudded.

“Tell him this: if he isn’t here in one minute, it’s over.”

As if struck by a thought, he added:

“Pardon?”

“Tell him he has precisely one minute. That will do. Good day.”

Before she could react, he vanished like the wind. Cold jolted her hands and feet.

Don’t tell me Assistant Lee’s in trouble with the Director.

Come to think of it, was this what the deputies were hinting at? That things were simmering between the Director and Assistant Lee…!

“Assistant, we have a problem!”

She rushed into the office to find him; he wiped drool from his lip, nodding off at his desk.

“What is it. Sold out of coffee?”

“No! The Director wants you in his office immediately. He said one minute.”

“…When?”

“Ten seconds ago!”

“Hah. Unbelievable.”

With a sour face, Jiwoon shot to his feet.

“A‑assistant…! Are you okay…?”

“Drink your coffee. I’ll be right back.”

Back straight, he strode for the Director’s suite. Assistant Kim quailed, terrified some violence might erupt — with the office empty for lunch, she had to plan alone.

Peek by the door. If it looks dangerous, intervene.

Brave Assistant Kim scurried to the Director’s door, curled small, and pressed an ear to it. Inside, voices — Jiwoon and Seo Taecheon.

“Why call me out over something like this?”

“‘Something like this’? Don’t belittle it.”

“Ha… How long will we repeat the same thing?”

“Until you lift the limit on kisses.”

Gasp. She clapped a hand over her mouth. That was definitely the word kiss. How did that come up in a fight? And what followed — even worse.

“There’s a reason the limit is ten per day. Any more, and neither of us can stop.”

“I won’t do anything reckless. Lift the limit.”

“You promised last month and broke it.”

“That was because you attacked me about making a second baby…”

“That was heat of the moment! I didn’t mean it.”

What am I hearing.

Reeling, she couldn’t eavesdrop further. Shaking her head, she rose; behind her, the bickering continued.

“Then make it thirty.”

“Thirty? Hm… I’ll think about it.”

“Ah, you’re cute. Don’t pout or I’ll kiss you right now.”

“You’re cuter. And I want to kiss you too.”

“Then let’s.”

Seo Taecheon pulled Jiwoon by the waist and dipped him back. Pinned, Jiwoon received his kiss; he thumped Taecheon’s chest in pretend protest, then looped arms around his neck. Each time their lips brushed apart, cotton‑candy laughter rose.

“Let’s have the detailed talk with you on my lap.”

“Okay.”

Jiwoon hopped into his lap. Pecks at Jiwoon’s ear; returned pecks on Taecheon’s mouth. As the fluttering bird‑kisses deepened, Taecheon felt it again, urgent as ever:

I’m ill — and somehow still alive. Lucky me.

He’d been a patient for years now. No academy had recorded it, no official name existed, but in the case of one Seo Taecheon, a “pheromonal separation‑anxiety syndrome” was real — and incurable. There would never be a cure for the desire called Lee Jiwoon.