“You’ll get fired. And if the police get involved, which I’m sure they will, you’ll go to jail.”
“Got it.”
“Why do you want to make this so difficult?”
Junyoung shrugged. Kangmin sighed, running his hand through his hair. He glanced toward Mr. Choi’s office. The blinds were closed.
“The thing is, I’ve been feeling … guilty,” Junyoung said suddenly. “I know I have a problem. I don’t need you to tell me. In fact, I’ll go and tell Mr. Choi myself.”
Kangmin looked flabbergasted. “You’ll tell him … yourself ?” he said slowly.
“Yes.”
“Then go. Right now.”
Junyoung got up. He felt Kangmin’s eyes on his back as he approached Mr. Choi’s office. Rapping his knuckles gently against the glass, he said, “Mr. Choi? Can I come in? It’s Junyoung.”
“Come in.”
Junyoung pushed the door open and stepped inside as Mr. Choi lowered his glasses. “You again? What is it this time?”
“May I sit?”
“Go ahead.”
He sat. The chair seemed about eight centimeters lower than the one Mr. Choi was in. Junyoung tried not to think about it.He cleared his throat. “The other day, I saw something strange on Kangmin’s computer. It looked like … video footage from the women’s restrooms. I tried to confront him, and he started threatening me. He said if I mentioned it to you, he would kill me.”
Mr. Choi was impassive. Junyoung continued, baring his palms. “I thought he would come clean, but he’s acting increasingly erratic. It’s making me worried. Not just for my own safety, of course … I’m more worried about those poor women whom he’s victimized.”
“That is a grave accusation.”
Junyoung nodded. “I wouldn’t have come to you unless I knew for sure.”
Sighing, Mr. Choi rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “We’ve had enough trouble lately in this department,” he mumbled. Then he picked up his phone.
“Kangmin,” he rumbled. “Come to my officenow.”
As they waited, Junyoung stared at the trophies. He imagined picking one up and bludgeoning Kangmin with it again and again, Kangmin’s skull cracking open like an egg on the floor. The door swung open, and Kangmin came in, his eyes darting around the room. Junyoung could tell that the cogs in his brain were working hard.
“Sit.” Mr. Choi gestured to the chair next to Junyoung’s, and Kangmin sat.
“Junyoung here has raised a serious allegation against you. He’s saying you’ve been spying on women in the bathroom.”
Kangmin blinked. “What?”
“Is it true?” Mr. Choi asked.
“That’s not—no!” Kangmin spluttered. “It was Junyoung who was doing it. Not me.”
“Come on,” Junyoung said calmly. “You know that’s not true.”
Kangmin stood so abruptly that the chair fell backward, hitting the floor. “Sir! If you check his computer, sir, all the evidence is there. I saw it on his screen. Women—in the bathroom—god, Junyoung, you make me sick.”
“I have nothing to hide. I’d be happy to consent to a full and thorough search of my computer, though I don’t think I’m the person under suspicion right now.” Again, Junyoung held up his hands, palms facing outward. He had read in an article about body language that this was a good way to show you had nothing to hide. He put his hands in his lap, then brought them up again for good measure.
“Oh my god.” Kangmin lunged toward Junyoung, knocking him onto the floor. His lips were curled back into a snarl. His breath smelled like onions. “You fucking bastard! You did something. What did you do?” Junyoung curled into a ball, his arms covering his face, as fists began raining down on his head.
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Choi boomed.