The city outside the 21st floor window glowed in endless streams of red and gold. Inside the office of Han & Jung Law Firm, everything was glass, chrome, and silence.
The clock on the office wall clicked with a quiet, persistent sound. Outside, the skyline of Seoul was bathed in late-evening gold, turning the glass windows into shimmering walls of light. Inside, the room buzzed with the low murmur of tired voices and the Seo Taeha sat at his desk, perfectly upright, reviewing a statement with his usual quiet focus.
Tall, poised, and almost cold in presence, Taeha was the kind of man people didn't speak to unless necessary. His features were sharp — defined jawline, pale skin, slightly downturned eyes that always looked like they were judging you, even when they weren't. His black hair was always combed to the side with surgical precision, not a strand out of place.
He wore a white shirt that fit snug across his shoulders, sleeves rolled up just below the elbows, veins faintly visible as he clicked through legal documents. A navy tie rested on the desk, abandoned. His blazer had been tossed over the chair hours ago.
Despite being late hour in the evening, he looked exactly as he had that morning — like someone who belonged in a courtroom.
"Hey," a familiar voice said, breaking his quiet.
Kang Minseok, his colleague, leaned casually on the corner of Taeha's desk. Mid-30s, handsome in a slightly messy way — soft brown hair, stubble along his chin, shirt crumpled just enough to show he didn't really care what anyone thought.
"You done with the witness summary?"
Taeha gave a short nod, tapping the screen. "Just finishing."
Minseok made a face. "You know what tonight is, right?"
Taeha paused. "…What?"
Minseok raised an eyebrow. "Team dinner. With Director Han."
Taeha's gaze narrowed.
"You didn't check your mail again, did you?" Minseok sighed and pulled out his phone. "8:30 p.m. Private room at Delirium. Full attendance required. Director wants to 'unwind and strategize.' You know what that means."
"I was hoping he forgot this month," Taeha muttered.
Minseok scoffed. "Director Han never forgets anything that involves alcohol, power, or pretending he still runs this place like a chaebol club."
He tilted his head, watching Taeha. "You okay?"
Taeha finally leaned back. "Just tired."
It wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the whole truth either.
These dinners always felt like walking into another world. One where smiles were fake, morals were negotiable, and everyone laughed at things they should've condemned.
Worse — everyone played along.
7:40 PM – Break Room
Taeha stood by the vending machine, sipping black coffee from a paper cup. His reflection in the window looked too polished, too composed. He hated how well he'd adapted to this world.
Minseok joined him, taking a sip of his energy drink. "You ever notice how quiet you get before these things?"
"I don't like Team dinners," Taeha said simply.
Minseok tilted his head. "It's not the Team dinner you hate. It's the people. These dinners are hell. You smile. You drink. You laugh at jokes you wouldn't tolerate in daylight."
He wasn't wrong.
Director Han was a legend in the legal world — and a monster behind closed doors. Half the office stories whispered in hallways involved him: affairs, bribery, dirty defense strategies for the rich. And yet, no one dared speak aloud. Everyone needed the name on their resume. Everyone smiled.