Chapter 1: The Resignation Letter Folded Neatly in His Arms

The wave of personnel transfers had raged through last autumn.

Bodam had been swept up in it, struggling desperately until he finally grabbed hold of a fattened paycheck. Tied down by his salary, it had already been six months since he joined Attack Team 3.

He had lost five kilograms over that half-year.

It was nice that the chubby cheeks he’d inherited from his family had slimmed down, but the stamina he lost along with the weight showed no signs of returning.

Bodam got exhausted easily and fell sick pretty often.

Not that anyone cared.

The espers of Attack Team 3 all had the same attitude: not their f*cking problem.

Whenever Bodam, drenched in cold sweat, grabbed their hands for guiding, they would lazily pull out handkerchiefs and wipe their own hands after touching his damp palm.

Some even sneered, telling him to take a shower because he stank of sweat.

When he dragged his sick body to shower and came back shivering, they cursed him again, saying he looked disgusting.

F*cking bastards.

Calling them dogs would honestly be an insult to dogs.

Those fcking espers of Attack Team 3.

“What are you doing?”

Joyeon, a tall esper with sharp, handsome features, approached Bodam, who was sitting by the window with his eyes closed.

Without opening his eyes, Bodam tilted his head slightly toward Joyeon and answered.

“Meditating.”

“How can you meditate with so many people around? You should at least put in earphones.”

“I tried. Didn’t work. White noise suits me better.”

As his workdays piled up, Bodam’s phone became cluttered with meditation apps and mindless game apps.

His YouTube subscription list filled up with psychology channels, and his watch history showed resignation vlogs nearly every other day.

Bodam was desperate to quit. Even more desperate was the need for enough financial security to actually pull it off.

‘Maybe a bundle of cash will just fall out of the sky someday.’

Every time he opened and closed his eyes, he indulged in that ridiculous fantasy.

‘Maybe some rich bastard will accidentally wire me hundreds of millions, laugh it off, and say, “Whatever, just keep it.”’

If that ever happened, he would spend the rest of his life bowing toward that guy’s direction.

“Is it that bad?”

“Don’t ask me now. I’ll cry.”

Giving up on meditation, Bodam lifted his head and blinked slowly. His large monolid eyes were moist and clear. Joyeon, watching from the side, let out a heavy sigh and gently patted his back.

“Don’t. I don’t want comfort.”

“Hey. How am I supposed to ignore you when you look like that?”

“Just leave me alone. It’ll pass.”

Having been comforted, Jo Yeon could only send his sympathy through his eyes.

Attack Team 3’s espers were notorious for being as nasty as they were handsome. It was pathetic to see someone like Yoon Bodam, who looked just as wealthy as them, being treated like a servant.

“Want me to get you something to drink?”

“Thanks. I’ll enjoy it.”

Even in the midst of his gloom, Bodam never refused free coffee and closed his eyes again.

But as he tried to empty his mind, today’s source of rage kept floating up.

Happy memories faded the more you thought about them, but bad ones grew heavier, bloated like tumors inside your head.

“Am I a f*cking germ now… Getting banned from using the bathroom… Seriously…”

Today’s disaster had started like this.

It was fired off by Min Jiho, the esper in charge of being hypersensitive among the Four Great F*ckers of Attack Team 3.

‘What?’

‘You heard me. Get lost already.’

‘But… it’s a shared bathroom. You have a private bathroom in your room. I was just about to leave anyway.’

Bodam, who had just grabbed the waistband of his pants, zipped them back up and hurried out.

Seeing Min Jiho’s left eyebrow twitch, it was clear his mood was rotten today. Talking back at times like this was a death sentence.

Fcking bastard. Hope he steps in backed-up toilet water and eats sht.

“Close the door!”

“Yes, sir.”

Grabbing his tiny bean-sized heart, Bodam muttered curses under his breath after Min Jiho’s roar.

He had genuinely been about to take a sh*t, so he had no choice but to use the restroom outside the lounge. Flushing every time someone walked in, feeling humiliated beyond words.

Ever since joining Attack Team 3, Bodam’s tear glands had been running on overtime. He clutched his aching belly and sniffled.

Imagining how sad his parents would be if they saw him like this made him tear up even harder.

‘Ah, Mom… I miss you.’

He pictured his mom, probably preparing to go to work while watching a morning drama, and found a little bit of strength.

‘There’s no such thing as an easy job,’ a famous YouTuber’s advice echoed in his ears.

‘Don’t look for fun at work. Just look at the paycheck.’

Right.

Live for the paycheck. Just the paycheck.

Regaining some composure, Bodam washed his face with cold water and marched back to the lounge. Kicking the door open energetically, he was immediately met with a sharp glare.

“Where the hell have you been? Didn’t you hear me tell you to stay put?”

It was Lee Taehwan, Attack Team 3’s anger management case, rushing in to tear into him.

They weren’t close despite being the same age, but they had dropped formalities a long time ago.

“Took a sh*t.”

Because the wall of honorifics had already collapsed, Bodam found it easier to talk to Taehwan than the others. Not that it mattered. Taehwan was still a f*cking bastard.

He had been the main reason Bodam developed stress-induced gastritis during his first few months.

“Cut the bullsh*t. Where were you really?”

“I told you. Bathroom. Outside.”

“You think that’s a bedroom? What kind of bullsh*t is that?”

Taehwan pointed his long, brutish arm toward the lounge bathroom Bodam had been chased out of.

“Tell the truth. Where’d you go?”

Such a weird bastard.

He didn’t give a sh*t about his precious guide’s wellbeing, but he wanted to know every little thing Bodam did. If Bodam was even a second late answering a summon, he’d get a direct call.

He even checked what Bodam ate.

At first, Bodam had thought maybe he cared a little.

But after half a year, he knew better. Taehwan just liked starting fights.

“I told you. Took a sh*t. Poop. Dump.”

Swallowing down the “f*ck” that almost slipped out, Bodam brushed back his damp hair.

Having washed his face with cold water and wiped it half-assed with a hand towel, droplets still clung to the tips of his hair.

“You seriously crying after taking a sh*t?”

…Wait, how the f*ck did he know.

“What are you talking about.”

“Did you go cry somewhere again? Add fuel to the fire for our team’s sh*tty reputation?”

“Nobody cried! I didn’t cry!”

“Say that to your own damn face.”

Moments like this made him want to just tan his skin black.

His ridiculously pale skin would puff up and turn bright red around the eyes and nose even if he cried a little. Splashing cold water didn’t help.

Couldn’t they just pretend not to notice? They knew damn well it was their fault.

“They said I couldn’t use the inside bathroom! What the hell was I supposed to do!”

Finally losing his temper, Bodam raised his voice at Taehwan, who kept poking at him for crying. He hadn’t wanted to talk about the shame of being kicked out of the bathroom right before taking a dump.

Taehwan stared down at him in silence.

Easily over 190 centimeters tall, he had to lower his head a lot to meet Bodam’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Bodam had to crank his neck upward like he was staring at the ceiling. It was a height gap he could never quite get used to.

“Who was it?”

“Who do you think.”

“Jiho hyung?”

The answer came instantly.

Clearly, even they knew how f*cked up their own teammates were. Not that it meant they’d change.

“Anyway, it’s not like you were goofing off, so drop it.”

“You seriously crying just because you couldn’t use a bathroom—hah.”

Taehwan cut himself off with a scoff. Even he sounded ridiculous to himself. He stared at Bodam like he was pathetic.

Unable to endure the look, Bodam’s weak stomach twisted in pain. Clutching his aching belly, he grimaced. Taehwan sighed again.

“How the hell have you survived 26 years with that weak-ass body and mental strength?”

“Just fine.”

He wanted to finish the comeback but couldn’t because he had bowed his head. The stomach pain was getting worse. Probably because he had broken his doctor’s warning and eaten spicy food the night before.

Taehwan, clicking his tongue in annoyance, left first. Said he’d be sleeping in his room, so come fill in the guiding later once he was feeling better.

If it weren’t for the loud tsk-tsk he left behind, Bodam might have even felt a little touched.

Compared to other bastards, Taehwan was practically a saint. Not like that Min-whatever, who would demand guidance even while gagging.

Checking that Min Jiho wasn’t around, Bodam cautiously opened the bathroom door.

“What the f*ck…”

His legs froze at the sight.
The toilet that had been fine just a little while ago was completely shattered.

F*cking psycho.

Staring at the shattered porcelain, Bodam felt chills crawl down his back. It felt like it was his own body lying there, smashed to pieces.

It made sense.

The lounge bathroom was the only space he had.

In Attack Team 3’s shared dorm-slash-guiding center, Bodam didn’t even have a personal room. Those f*cking bastards had private rooms and private bathrooms.

His entire personal space was the shattered lounge toilet.

That’s why Bodam usually sat awkwardly in the living room or hid in the break room whenever things were quiet.
Just like now.

“Here, Bodam. Drink.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

Taking the takeaway coffee cup from Jo Yeon with both hands, Bodam sucked on the straw reverently. The heavily syruped iced Americano sweetened his mood a little.

Joyeon, who even knew Bodam’s coffee preference, also seemed to know he had skipped meals.

“Eat this too. If you leave any, no more coffee.”

“If I leave anything, slap me.”

Biting into the savory ham and cheese sandwich made Bodam’s spirits lighten noticeably. Sipping coffee and nibbling the sandwich brought some life back to his teary eyes.

Thinking about it, he realized he’d been extra depressed because he was hungry too.

“Where would I even hit you?”

“Nowhere, obviously. I’m tiny.”

“What kind of d*ck is the size of a person. You think you could walk if you had one your size?”

Imagining it like a pogo stick, Bodam snorted. Jo Yeon laughed too, clearly thinking the same thing.

Holding a coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other, Bodam laughed.

A real laugh.

A laugh he hadn’t once shown inside Attack Team 3.

He laughed often when he was with Jo Yeon, the closest thing he had to family now.

Bodam had always been a kid who laughed a lot.

‘Brrrrt. Brrrrt.’

But the bastards who took away his smile didn’t even let him enjoy his brief moments of peace. Whenever he relaxed with Jo Yeon, the pager always seemed to ring.

Just like now.