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As I close my eyes, rain begins to fall from the sky.

The gentle drizzle soon turns into a torrential downpour, making it hard to see even an inch ahead.

As I pull down the layered bandana from my face and wipe the chilled skin of the desert night with my gloves, a subordinate that appeared from nowhere whispers softly.

“Manager. It’s a direct call from the Executive Director. He’s asking how the Caracas project is going.”

I snatch the radio that’s thrust in front of me and begin my report.

“Yes, the Chinese electronic warfare researcher you mentioned has been put on a ship. I’ve checked the materials too. However, there seems to be a slight issue with the Chinese… I think the Congo government has caught wind of it…”

Buzzing, is it a fly or a mosquito buzzing around my ears? It’s tough when you catch malaria in Africa. Damn mosquitoes.

I sit nervously in my office chair, my hands fidgeting.

The Executive Director speaks.

“Manager, you just returned from a business trip to Japan with the company passport, didn’t you?”

The figure of the Executive Director standing by the window begins to shift. Is it the backlight? I couldn’t see his face.

“This morning, the Japanese public security office sent a formal document to the company. An employee from a foreign company was found checking a body in the morgue without permission.”

“…”

“Was he your information agent?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Hey, buddy. Have you been working at the company for just a day or two? Where do you think you are just barging in like that without a report! If by any chance the North Koreans take you or the kids…!”

“…”

“…Damn it. This isn’t the first time this kind of miserable company life has happened.”

A file is thrown onto the desk. The shocked white paper sticks out from the brown folder. The folder with a torn side lies on the monochrome metal table, overlapping with the image of a bullet-ridden Jewish friend.

“I’ll handle this, so wrap up the investigation on Middle Eastern arms smuggling.”

Boom! The steel door slams shut. Soaked to the skin from the torrential rain, I sit in the car, pulling out a cigarette.

“…Manager, are you alright?”

The subordinate asks.

“Even if it’s about the North Korean scientist and his wife, what about the kids? If the Vietnamese public security checks the bodies, it’s sure to raise some eyebrows…”

“Get out of the way. Hey, are you okay?”

A flash of light in the darkness. The voice of my colleague fades away beyond my blurry vision.

“Hey, hey. Get a grip. Don’t get down on yourself, you idiot. It’s not your fault.”

Even now, years later, I can’t respond.

“Hey. Hey. Get a grip.”

Hey.

Wake up!

Extra Episode – Same day, same place, different things.

I gasped as I woke up with a start.

Maybe I swallowed a load of air, but my throat hurt badly. My waist felt stiff, and my shoulders were heavy. There was a pain in my chest that felt like an elephant had just jumped on me.

“Are you alright?”

The car subordinate asked with a startled expression. Worn out from his shabby suit and the fatigue etched across his face, concern flickered briefly in his eyes.

I took a deep breath, looking around. It was a familiar office layout.

The windows leading to the hallway were covered with blinds, and beyond the desk lay a scene reminiscent of a study room. Stacked desks were filled with documents written in Arabic and English, waiting for translation by the language staff.

The scenery I had seen countless times, which I now wished to stop seeing. Information Officers, dressed in suits rather than military uniforms, snaked through the Information Command office like graduate students.

As I looked around that familiar office, I rubbed my face with my hand.

“…Hah.”

Damn it. I must have dozed off again. No wonder my waist hurt.

This bad habit of sleeping with my arms clasped together as a pillow had persisted since my days at the Information School. This damn habit still tortured me, even after changing my rank three times.

“I accidentally dozed off. Manager Moon, um, er, have you finished translating the daily report I asked for earlier?”

“Ah, um, well….”

Manager Moon began to trail off, looking uncertain, like a student caught smoking by the supervisor.

“Still not done? The Executive Director asked that the materials be ready before he leaves.”

“Manager.”

“Yes?”

“Uh, uh….”

Manager Moon bit his lip and began gesturing vaguely to somewhere. His fingers pointed randomly, poking into the air, and he was rolling his eyes back and forth.

As if to tell me to look somewhere. But as someone who just woke up, it was entirely incomprehensible.

The moment I turned my head to look down the hallway.

“…oh.”

My gaze met someone peering through the blinds.

It was the Executive Director.

He remained silent, trying to make eye contact through the blinds, abruptly flinging the door open and walking into the office. His heavy binder, which he carried in one hand, thumped against the desk, demonstrating his anger.

He dropped the binder onto the desk and poked his hand into his pants pocket.

“Sleeping well, huh? Didn’t even realize I was watching.”

“Um, Executive Director, it’s not like that….”

“Come with me.”

“…Yes.”

Following the Executive Director’s finger as he beckoned me out of the room, I quickly kicked my office Crocs under the desk and hurriedly changed into my shoes.

*

“So you got caught napping in the office?”

“Yes….”

“Haha!”

The hearty laugh shook the break room.

Dressed in his shabby suit pants, a superior couldn’t hold back a chuckle, struggling to breathe as he burst into laughter.

“My, my. I’ve never seen the Executive Director act like that! Come on, when you work, it’s only natural to catch a nap in the office sometimes, right? Captain, you really got blessed today.”

“It wasn’t a nap; I just dozed off for a moment.”

“Same difference!”

Fat laughter spilled from the superior as he waved his hand, raising his voice. The term “uncle” was indeed appropriate. He had been working at the Information Command for over ten years.

With a charming smile, the superior offered me a cup of coffee. It was the only source of joy provided by the vending machine in the break room as part of employee welfare (for a price).

“Have a cup and relax. These days happen to everyone.”

“Thank you, I will.”

I tilted the paper cup and took a sip. The sweet mix coffee was, frankly, no different from the coffee served at a sundae shop.

Yet, the few hundred won worth of cheap vending machine coffee was the only thing keeping the dull atmosphere of the office alive.

After preparing my coffee, the superior hummed an upbeat tune and began pondering profoundly about whether to choose coffee or barley tea as if it were the greatest dilemma of his life.

“Let’s see~ is this damn machine going to eat my coins today or not….”

Chapter 1: How to Survive in an Information Agency: Coffee and cigarettes are always right.

Just to prove this principle, the superior took out his barley tea from the vending machine while pulling out a cigarette.

Of course, it came with some company gossip. Complaining about the company was the second principle practiced by those surviving in the dismal information agency.

Lighting a Russian cigarette, the superior sipped his barley tea and exclaimed in awe.

“Wow. This company has been running this vending machine for over ten years.”

“It’s part of employee welfare.”

“Seriously, they claim it’s employee welfare. I don’t know why our company has only vending machines when there’s a franchise bakery on the first floor of a certain company in my neighborhood.”

As I gently bit the paper cup, I shrugged my shoulders. Vending machines eat coins all the time. I’d rather they let us leave work on time.

I took out my lighter and added, “The National Intelligence Service probably finds it difficult to leave on time too.”

The caffeine and nicotine surged quickly into my bloodstream, racing through my veins with a burst of energy.

Seemingly pleased, the superior flashed a bright smile.

“The Executive Director probably wasn’t scolding you with bad intentions. Having worked alongside him for a while, I’ve seen he’s not the petty type.”

That might be true. Even in a strict office, they wouldn’t get angry about someone napping.

If someone did get worked up over a nap, it meant one of two things. Either the superior was a miserable, annoying bastard, or I had somehow rubbed him the wrong way.

I would say I was likely in the latter camp.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. The Director used to doze off too when he was a lieutenant colonel. Now that he’s a lieutenant colonel, there’s less chance he has to be out in the field, so he’s all lively, but he used to spend nights without going home, clutching a watch and catching quick naps in the bathroom. He even had spare clothes hanging in his office.”

That was impressive in many ways. The Director, who couldn’t even go home and napped in a bathroom, or the company that treated its officers in such a way. Just how did they manage to grind people down?

I exhaled the deep smoke and released a heavy sigh.

“Oh, right. You can’t talk about this anywhere. If it reaches the Executive Director’s ears, it’ll be a huge mess. He’s the type who’ll kick the bed covers around despite being so old and venting about the past.”

“I’ll be careful. Thank you for the coffee, Officer.”

“Oh, look at me. What time is it already? I’ll be heading in first.”

“Be careful.”

“Take care, everyone~.”

The superior hastily applied deodorant everywhere before leaving the break room.

I stared blankly at the scene and tossed the paper cup into the trash before taking a drag from my cigarette.

“…Damn it.”

I need to get out of here.

*

Late at night, instead of staying late at the office, I stepped out onto the street.

“Did you get off work? You just got here, huh?”

“Yeah.”

In a narrow alley near the university, youth ahead of exams were drinking their fill, savoring the day while frying pancakes under the streetlights.

In a corner of the frequently visited bar, a familiar face was sitting with my colleague.

“You’ve been through a lot. Did you get chewed out again today?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh no. How come?”

“I dozed off at my desk and got scolded by my superior. After listening to the nagging, I finished my work. How about you?”

“What’s new at the company? Same old, same old.”

That was a euphemism for a hellish day.

I rolled my laptop and documents into my coat and awkwardly stuffed them into the chair while laughing to myself as I wet my hands with a napkin.

“You’re going through a lot too.”

“What can I say? It’s way better than the Ministry of Defense. Hey! One beer and one soju here! The red one!”

I heard a voice from the kitchen asking, “What about the glasses?” Then, two glasses were placed on the table.

Though I had only experienced the beach during school trips and overseas training, seafood was definitely to my liking. I picked up a piece of sashimi with my chopsticks and dunked it in the dipping sauce.

My colleague, who lived by the seaside for half his life, interjected while serving the drinks.

“Oh, dipping it in the sauce ruins the sashimi’s flavor!”

“I don’t even have the strength for wasabi today. I just want to eat.”

“Geez, you coastal folks are such fools.”

While my colleague laughed and tossed the soaked napkin into the trash, alcohol flowed down my throat as our glasses clinked. In the meantime, the guy emptied his glass and dipped his sashimi in soy sauce, popping it into his mouth.

“Look at this! The bounciness of the texture! This flesh made while swimming in the ocean—man, it’s just incredible.”

“I think you chose the wrong career. You should’ve made a living eating.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What do you think, you’re any different? You’ve picked every last bit of meat off chicken legs in your life. You should have been a meat processor — get it?”

“Unbelievable…”

Since it was rare for us colleagues to gather like this, the conversation naturally shifted toward nostalgia. The guy who had been quiet after moving companies began to ask about everyone’s whereabouts.

“How’s Hwan doing?”

“Yeah, he’s doing well. Since returning from Russia, he seems to be on easy street. He should be in Khabarovsk.”

“Hmm, Russia. Those people are tall and have nice builds; Hwan should have no problem there. He’s so tall he’s likely to get mistaken for a Korean overseas.”

“How about Hyun-soo?”

“I heard he’s in Bangkok. They said something about a delivery accident in the Golden Triangle? He’s involved in that.”

“Isn’t that where they trade drugs? I heard drug production in Southeast Asia is booming these days. Please don’t tell me it’s him again?”

“Yeah, those commies.”

“Come on, just stop it will you?”

The beer bottle tilted, a refreshing sound followed, and my colleague filled my glass.

“What’s Young-ho been up to these days?”

“Young-ho? He’s in the Navy, right? He must be on a ship.”

The Information Command recruits resources from the Army, Navy, and Air Force under the Information Headquarters.

Young-ho was a naval intelligence officer who graduated from the Naval Academy.

“He sang about not wanting to be on a ship and yet here he is. That’s some harsh reality!”

“Anyway, Young-ho is out at sea now. Yuseong is in Gangwon-do, and Minseok is…”

“Oh right, our nerdy friend. Where’s he stationed? He wanted to go to Japan, did he make it?”

“Japan, no way. The competition there is fierce. Minseok got assigned to Eastern Europe last year.”

“Ha ha!”

My colleague slammed the table, doubling over with laughter.

“Man, that guy has the worst luck! Of all places, why Eastern Europe? Did he get caught translating a game made there? What was it called again? Dark World? Dark Fantasy? Something like that.”

I was left wondering what was so funny. I wiped away the leftover alcohol in my glass with a napkin.

“Ha, look at you, all excited while your colleagues are sweating it out overseas.”

The guy named Gwak was known for having a not-so-great nickname.

After finishing his military service, he entered the Information Command as a captain. A captain in the Information Command typically holds the position of manager, so he was always called Manager Gwak.

However, the nickname Gwak-Gwak that my colleagues used for him was a playful jab at his appearance, comparing him to a quacking duck.

Naturally, I called him by that name. No other reason—it just fit him too well.

“Gwak-Gwak! How’s your company doing these days?”

“Our company?”

And my colleague Gwak-Gwak, now left the Information Command.

To be precise,

“I’m talking about the National Intelligence Service.”

He joined the National Intelligence Service through lateral recruitment.

Gwak-Gwak nodded knowingly.

“What’s there to see here? Civil servants are all the same. Other than the commute to Seoul, nothing’s changed. Not for better or worse.”

“But why’d you change jobs and cut off contact? Everyone’s been asking about you.”

“What’s it matter if I disappear for a day or two? I just couldn’t reach anyone while I was on a business trip.”

I pondered while nibbling on some grilled meat.

“A yearly project sounds quite lengthy, huh? Where did you go?”

“Beijing.”

“China? What could have possibly taken a whole year?”

“Oh, you know how fervent those Chinese are lately about everything. I couldn’t even take a vacation going from one country to another.”

“What kind of trouble did you cause?”

“That’s…”

As he revealed his pearly whites in a sly grin, I set my glass down firmly.

“Ugh, you startled me!”

“I’m not saying.”

“What? Wait! Hey!”

As I tried to stand up, Gwak-Gwak grabbed my arm, stopping me.

“What’s wrong? Did something come up again?”

“Whenever you grin like that, something troublesome always crops up. Let go. I have work tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait, STOP! Just listen before you decide!”

“…”

“Hey, I’ll cover the drinks today, so come on!”

“…Tell me then.”

I crossed my arms in resignation as my colleague leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“You know Glocom, right?”

Glocom. A North Korean trading company exporting computer parts and electronics.

But in truth, what Glocom actually deals with are military supplies.

“Yeah. It’s a front company for the Reconnaissance General Bureau.”

“The director of a company named Fan Systems, which is a subsidiary of Glocom, recently went to Sudan. You’ve heard about the civil war between RSF and the government, right?”

“The third civil war. RSF staged a coup, right? So what?”

“Well, a few days later, some Ministry of State guys who were at an embassy in a neighboring country left for Sudan. We tapped the communications and found out some details, but… looks like this director got into some trouble and ran away.”

I dunked my sashimi into the sauce, the freshness dancing around in my mouth while I cut him off.

“Get to the point.”

“We need to go catch that guy.”

“…To Sudan?”

“Yeah.”

“……”

“Hey, you can’t just take the money and run! You’ve got to listen until the end! They’re already short-handed in that region! Help a fellow civil servant out!”

“Ugh, I’m not going.”

As I pushed away from my clingy colleague and packed my bag containing my laptop, I received a call.

It was my work phone provided by the company, and the screen read ‘Director.’

Why would the Director call me all of a sudden?

“Yes, I answered the phone.”

‘Oh, Manager! Were you taking a break?’

“No, Director. Please go ahead.”

‘It’s just that a sudden business trip has been scheduled for you, so I’m reaching out.’

“A business trip?”

‘Yes. The destination is Khartoum.’

“That’s in Sudan, isn’t it?”

‘Haha, you know it well.’

“……”

‘Be careful. You’ve been there a few times before, so you’re familiar with it. Well then, I’ll hang up now. Have a great day. Haha.’

Honestly speaking,

this company is infuriatingly lovable.

 

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