Secretary Gwanggong's Survival Diary-Chapter 26

When I opened my eyes, my vision felt stifled. It was like something was covering my eyes. The second that off sensation hit me, a memory came rushing back and I jolted upright.

“...Haa...”

Thankfully, I wasn’t tied up. My arms and legs were free. That small relief was quickly followed by a wave of confusion.

“You’re awake.”

My soul nearly left my body. The baby I hadn’t even conceived—or whatever—almost popped out of me. That familiar voice coming out of nowhere scared the living shit out of me.

“...CEO... sir...?”

“You should lie down a bit more. They said it was a fever from exhaustion.”

The lights in the room weren’t off. What had been covering my forehead and eyes was... a wet towel. And there was an IV drip stuck in my arm.

“Ah... but why are you here, sir...?”

“Still out of it? This is my room.”

Right... That explains why it felt so familiar. Of course it’s Yoon Taeo’s room—I clean it every damn day.

“...Why am I here, though...?”

“Lie down, first.”

Yoon Taeo, who’d been sitting on the couch, walked over and pressed a finger against my forehead. Guess I really wasn’t in good shape. That tiny push was enough to send me falling back into the pillow. Dizziness washed over me like a wave. My skull throbbed and my head burned. And for the record, I’m not faking it.

“Secretary Kim.”

“...Y-Yes...?”

“You’re not doing this just because you lost the bet... are you.”

Maybe it was my foggy brain, but that just sounded like complete nonsense. What kind of shit was he saying to someone who’s obviously sick?

“You never even told me what the bet was, so how would I know...?”

I had a vague idea, but decided to play dumb. This bastard would absolutely nurse me back to health just to break me all over again. I mean, I saw it—he was covered in Lee Jiseok’s blood like a rabid dog.... Ugh. Just remembering it made my headache worse.

“We’ll settle that later.”

No thanks. I’d rather just die quietly in my sleep right now. Come on, body—prove that you can die of overwork. That way this demon might feel at least a little guilty.

“Get some sleep. You need to eat your meds.”

The room dimmed slightly. I really must’ve been in bad shape, because just a few minutes of talking had made me heat up again. My whole body felt like it was floating in hot water, and my strength was completely drained. Naturally, I couldn’t keep thinking for long—my consciousness faded.

“...Secretary.”

When I opened my eyes again, nothing much had changed—except Yoon Taeo’s face was way too close.

“...Y-Yeah...?”

On reflex, I yanked the blanket up to my chest. A small burst of air escaped from his nostrils, almost like a laugh.

“What the hell do you think I’d see that’s worth covering up?”

Smack.

That little forehead flick of his actually cleared my head a bit. Maybe he thought it was light, but from my perspective, it felt like he was trying to crush my skull.

“Get up. You need to take your meds.”

“Ah... What time is it?”

“Around two.”

I did feel a little better after that nap. My head felt clearer, and the IV had been removed, so I could move more freely. Still, my arm was weak, and I had to struggle to sit up.

“But... what is this, sir...?”

Then I noticed the tray resting on my lap and realized my brain still wasn’t fully online.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s your favorite food, Secretary Kim.”

“...Huh...? Mine...?”

I looked toward the window, then back at the tray. The dishes were oddly familiar... and somehow unfamiliar. The plates were definitely from Yoon Taeo’s expensive collection, but the food wasn’t anything I had ever made myself. A large bowl of porridge. And alongside it, a lineup of side dishes that definitely rang some bells.

“They’re still open at this hour...?”

No doubt about it—this was food from that Michelin-starred Korean restaurant. Just looking at it made my appetite flare up.

“Don’t overthink it. Just eat.”

As I started spooning the porridge into my mouth, my thoughts swirled like mad. How the hell did he get all this food at this hour? That restaurant didn’t even serve porridge, as far as I remembered.

“Maybe you didn’t collapse from exhaustion—maybe you were just hungry.”

And on top of that... there’s no secretary team in his house at this time of night. So who plated all these side dishes so neatly?

“The doctor said if you eat, take your medicine, and sleep a bit more, you’ll be fine.”

And also—why. Why the hell did he do all this? The towel on my forehead earlier, the IV drip—none of it made sense. Too many questions were piling up. And I didn’t have answers to a single one.

“Secretary Kim.”

“...Y-Yeah?”

“Planning to eat the tray too?”

By the time I snapped out of it, there was barely anything left on the tray. What the hell—where did it all go?

“Thought people lose their appetite when they’re sick. Guess that was bullshit.”

“...Didn’t I tell you before? That I force myself to eat even more when I’m feeling unwell...”

“Seems like you’re well enough to spout bullshit. You’re fine now.”

Like he’d finished doing the dishes, Yoon Taeo took the empty tray and handed me a glass of water and a pouch of pills.

“You should be honored.”

“...I’m honored, sir...”

“You want me to smack you?”

I said I was honored, and he raised his big-ass hand. He’s insane. I’ve completely lost control of my filter—everything that should’ve stayed in my head keeps leaking out of my damn mouth. And judging by the tone, that definitely came off as sarcasm.

“...I don’t think I’m in my right mind yet... Maybe the meds are messing with me...”

“You haven’t even taken them yet.”

“...Oh... really...?”

Damn. That would’ve been a great excuse.

“But... honored for what, exactly?”

I swallowed the pills and looked at him.

“Haa... Our Secretary Kim broke a lot of firsts today.”

So this bastard still isn’t over it. He pressed a finger to my forehead again. I tried to brace myself with my core, but he stared me down and pushed until my back was flat against the mattress.

“Firsts...?”

Sometimes I don’t get the way Yoon Taeo talks. In dramas, people always seem to magically understand what characters mean, no matter how vague they are. But when someone talks like shit to me, I take it literally. Everyone around Yoon Taeo seems to have mastered reading the room—guess I missed that memo. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Think about it overnight and report back to me later. Tell me what records you think you broke.”

“...Then I guess I can go back to my room now?”

So why the hell is he pretending to say goodnight and then pushing me back down again?

“What are you talking about?”

“...Sorry?”

“Hate to break it to you, but this is my house. Which means every room is basically mine.”

...This fucking bastard.

It really is miserable not having your own place. This is why real estate reform is necessary. Wait, where was my house again...? I haven’t gone back once since I landed in this world. It only exists in my memory now...

“Just go to sleep. You’d better show up tomorrow looking like a functioning human.”

With one last threat, Yoon Taeo stood up and grabbed the tray. As he left, he dimmed the lights, and the room fell into complete darkness. I couldn’t see a thing, not even a sliver of light—but unlike before, I wasn’t scared anymore. It already felt like that incident had happened ages ago. And... somehow, there was a comforting scent wrapping around my body.

As drowsiness crept in, it came with a sense of peace.

...That scent shouldn’t exist in this room, though.

❖ ❖ ❖

“This morning you... huh? You don’t have any schedule?”

“Are you reporting that to me, or asking me?”

As usual, I was listing Yoon Taeo’s morning schedule while he sipped his coffee—but the morning section was completely empty. Has that ever happened before? I must’ve been so thrown off that I ended up asking without thinking. I could’ve sworn there was something scheduled for this morning just yesterday. I mean, it’s almost unheard of for him to have even half a day open.

“Did you adjust the schedule, sir...?”

But the revised calendar... looked off.

“Yeah.”

“...And who did you give that instruction to, sir?”

Yoon Taeo, holding a blue-patterned, modern-style coffee cup, locked eyes with me. His eyebrow ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) ticked up again—clearly annoyed.

“Do I report to you now, Secretary Kim?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“I was just tired, so I moved things. What are you imagining?”

What are you imagining, bastard...

“...You literally just pushed everything to later, which means your schedule now runs until midnight tonight, sir...”

And thanks to that, I got to witness something rare:

Yoon Taeo’s shoulders flinched, just slightly.

“Bring me that round-eyed idiot.”

I know exactly who that is.

Guess the secretarial department is losing another member.

...Goodbye.

❖ ❖ ❖

“How about this tie?”

“Too flashy.”

This must be what true luxury feels like. Sleeping in all morning and only going into work in the afternoon... it honestly felt like I’d gotten a half-day off. And with Yoon Taeo holed up in the study, not harassing me, the feeling doubled.

“You’ve got a bright face, sir, so you pull off colors like this really well. Not everyone can wear this kind of tone, you know.”

“...Whatever you say.”

I picked out a random tie and handed it to him—and Yoon Taeo accepted it without protest. Not a lie, really. The guy had a surprisingly handsome face, and practically anything you threw on him looked good. One of those people who made clothes look better, not the other way around.

“...Excuse me for a moment...”

And then that face came closer. Way too close.

I was trying to step in and fix his tie, but froze in place.

“You’re not gonna tie it?”

“I-I will...”

Normally he’d keep his posture stiff and upright, but this time he leaned down—lowering himself to my eye level. Whether it was the closeness—barely a hand’s width away—or something else, I wasn’t sure. Maybe my body wasn’t as recovered as I thought, because I could feel cold sweat forming on the back of my neck.

“How’s your body feeling?”

“...I-it’s hot.”

“Still?”

What the hell is wrong with my hands today?

I could tie a necktie blindfolded, but right now I couldn’t even get the knot right. And then, as if to make it worse, Yoon Taeo did something that made me stop fumbling completely.

“Hmm... yeah. That’s sweat, isn’t it.”

His large hand brushed my bangs aside and touched my forehead, where the sweat had made my skin cool.

“Your face is red, too. Maybe you should take another day off.”

Like he was checking my temperature, his palm, then the back of his hand, kept touching my forehead.

Each time, the heat surged through my body with shocking speed.

“P-please excuse me... I’m sorry!”

I shoved him away and bolted out of the dressing room.

My heart was pounding like it might explode, and heat rushed all the way to the tips of my ears.

With how insane my body was reacting, there was no doubt about it—

the pheromone suppressants weren’t working properly.

Maybe...

Maybe even the suppressants wouldn’t be enough to stop what’s about to happen.

...My heat cycle.