A few days passed, and Seung-hyeon’s name never once appeared on his phone screen. Instead, Eun-jae started contacting him more frequently. Compared to how Seon-woo had acted distant and uncomfortable around Eun-jae before, he now engaged in conversation with much more sincerity.
Every so often, he did wonder how Gwak Seung-hyeon was doing… but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out first. All he could do was push thoughts of Seung-hyeon aside and try not to dwell on them—that was the best he could manage under the circumstances.
While spending each day with that unsettled feeling in his chest, Seon-woo heard something absurd at work.
“…Did you just say it’s Hiking Day?”
His secretary, with the usual blank expression, nodded and replied, “Yes, Director.”
Seon-woo was at a loss for words, still reeling from what he’d just heard. He mentally replayed the phrase. The secretary had definitely just said, ‘This week includes Hiking Day.’
Was that even a real thing?
Then again, considering how the calendar is packed with every kind of commemorative day imaginable, something like a Hiking Day wasn’t all that surprising. What was surprising was why she was bringing it up out of nowhere.
He wondered if this was another one of those details he didn’t remember due to his lack of Gwanggong memories. Cautiously, he asked,
“When you say Hiking Day…”
Thankfully, the secretary didn’t give him the ‘You should know this already’ look. Instead, she began to explain. If he’d been hearing this from the perspective of someone who already knew, he would’ve been confused about why she was explaining it in such detail—but for Seon-woo, it was welcome information.
“Yes, our company designates a ‘Hiking Day’ every three months, during which all employees are required to participate in a company hike. You might’ve forgotten due to how busy you are, but this week happens to be one of those weeks.”
While he was grateful for the explanation, the more he learned, the more ridiculous it sounded. A mandatory company-wide hiking day for all employees? Just the thought of it was dreadful. If his original self had been working at a company with this kind of policy, he would’ve quit on the spot.
Now that he was the Gwanggong version of Seon-woo, technically holding the title of Director, he hoped he might be exempt from participating. But after looking into it a little further, that didn’t seem likely.
‘Hiking Day’ was a tradition established by Gwak Seon-woo’s grandfather, Chairman Gwak.
Apparently, the Chairman had been such a hiking enthusiast that he firmly believed hiking not only improved employees’ health but also boosted company morale. Eventually, he went as far as designating one week every three months as “Hiking Week.” If that man weren’t his grandfather, Seon-woo would’ve gladly unleashed a string of curses right then and there.
Contrary to what one might expect, though, Hiking Day actually had a surprisingly decent reputation among the employees. Sure, the hiking itself was tough and annoying, but once it was over, they didn’t have to suffer through a company dinner that week, and they even got a bonus—so apparently, most people welcomed it.
Hmm… okay, the bonus part made it a bit more understandable. Still, no matter how he looked at it, it didn’t sit right with him. He bet that more than half of the employees who marked “I like it” on any survey about Hiking Day were just saying that out of social obligation or fear of sticking out.
That was the conclusion Seon-woo came to after hearing all of this.
“What kind of absurd setup is this?”
It wasn’t just because he didn’t want to go hiking.
Was it because this was inside a game world? The whole company felt utterly incomprehensible based on his real-world logic. Could this be another one of the junior developer’s frustrations baked into the scenario?
He didn’t remember any mention of hiking.
Anyway, regardless of how ridiculous the company was, there was a far bigger issue at hand. Namely…
“I’m a Gwanggong… can I even go hiking?”
Sure, it was great for a Gwanggong to have a wholesome hobby—but honestly, it just didn’t sit right with him.
A man who didn’t flinch taking ice-cold showers, lived in a house with strictly monochrome interiors, and only drank black coffee so bitter it could peel paint… was supposed to don hiking gear and trek up a mountain with the rest of the staff every three months? That just seemed ridiculous.
Hiking clothes are usually made in bright, flashy colors for safety and visibility. Just the mental image of a Gwanggong wearing neon hiking gear was laughable. But even if he went out of his way to wear all black, wouldn’t that still look kinda stupid?
Seon-woo was already feeling anxious about the possibility of triggering a system warning the moment he put on hiking clothes—or stepped foot on the trail. Something like, “A Gwanggong does not wear neon yellow hiking jackets. Gwanggong Score down,” or “A Gwanggong does not walk up a mountain—he takes a helicopter. Gwanggong Score down.”
Given the patterns he’d experienced so far, this upcoming “Hiking Day” was clearly part of some in-game event. No doubt, once they got to the mountain, he’d end up separated from the rest of the group and alone with Seo Eun-jae in a conveniently romantic setting.
All for the sake of an event.
Last time they’d forced the Gwanggong into a karaoke bar, and now it was hiking.
Seon-woo clicked his tongue in exasperation.
If he ever managed to clear this route and return to the real world, the very first thing he’d do would be hunt down that developer junior of his!
And he’d demand they scrap this ridiculous “hiking episode” altogether—otherwise, he’d make sure the game app tanked with a one-star rating.
***
Whether Seon-woo was bitter about it or not, time marched on, and soon enough, Hiking Day arrived.
He spent ages agonizing over what the hell to wear. Should he swallow his pride as a Gwanggong and go for safety with fluorescent hiking gear? Or should he be the only one showing up in a sleek suit while everyone else wore practical hiking clothes?
No matter how he imagined it, the whole scene looked ridiculous.
But when he opened the Gwanggong’s wardrobe, as always, the game had conveniently prepared an appropriate outfit.
A black tracksuit.
Since this was a recurring event every three months, it made sense that there would already be clothes ready for it.
He’d worried that going out of his way to wear only black would make him look ridiculous—but once he put it on, the thought didn’t even cross his mind.
Must’ve been the face.
The black athletic wear suited the Gwanggong’s chiseled features and lean build so perfectly, it looked like it had been custom made for him. Seon-woo could finally relax a little.
He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Because of the sheer number of employees, they wouldn’t all be hiking at once; it looked like they were splitting into groups—most likely by team.
Even as Seon-woo made his way to the base of the mountain, he already had a clear idea of how things would unfold.
So when he spotted Eun-jae’s face among the crowd, he wasn’t even surprised.
And when the familiar system choices popped up on screen, he responded without hesitation.
▶ (Approach Eun-jae and hike together.)
▶ (Approach Eun-jae and start a conversation.) “Let’s go together.”
For the company’s CEO to sneak over to another team’s group hike just because of one assistant manager—yeah, it was kind of ridiculous.
Seon-woo couldn’t deny that the whole situation felt laughable. Still, that didn’t mean he was about to reject the option presented to him.
So what if it looked ridiculous? Rather than wasting time agonizing over appearances, it was better to just go with the system’s intended choice and progress the route smoothly.
“Oh, Director!”
“Assistant Manager Seo Eun-jae.”
As expected, Eun-jae was the first to notice him and speak. Seon-woo gave a slight nod in return and walked over.
He noticed the other members of Eun-jae’s team looking flustered as they quickly greeted him. Among them was the employee who had previously collapsed in the karaoke room after belting out three tragic lines of “Coming of Age Ceremony.”
Today, that same person was decked out in flashy hiking gear—almost like a living manifestation of what Seon-woo had imagined earlier.
Seon-woo responded to the employee’s greeting with a silent nod. The guy paused for a beat, then gave a hearty laugh, as if finally freed from the shame of his previous downfall.
After a brief hesitation, Seon-woo asked,
“Is Team Leader Gwak Seung-hyeon not participating today?”
He hadn’t seen Seung-hyeon anywhere, and the question came out almost instinctively. Even as he said it, though, part of him didn’t really believe Seung-hyeon would actually be absent.
It was just… a hunch. But the answer that came was not what he’d expected.
The employee’s previously cheerful face stiffened as he replied under his breath.
“Team Leader isn’t the type to miss this kind of thing, but… he said he wasn’t feeling well yesterday and took a half-day. And today, he messaged that he probably wouldn’t be able to make it either…”
Seon-woo’s chest tightened.
Was he really sick? Or… was he just so sick of him that he didn’t even want to show his face?
Either way, there was nothing Seon-woo could do. And that helplessness weighed heavily on him.
As soon as Seon-woo joined the group and they started climbing, everyone except for Eun-jae, who was right beside him, immediately began whispering amongst themselves. They must’ve thought he couldn’t hear them—but come on. He was a Gwanggong. Of course he could.
He caught snatches of gossip—jokes about how he’d gone to karaoke with Eun-jae, and now he was hiking with him too. Someone even said that with the way things were going, their team’s future was looking bright.
All of it was deeply embarrassing from Seon-woo’s perspective. He almost wished his hearing wasn’t so sharp.
The employees, perhaps because they were in the presence of the Gwanggong himself, pushed on without a single complaint. They loudly declared how great the air was and even broke out in exaggerated singing. Among them, the only one acting completely normal was Eun-jae.
“Director, can you tell the difference between a chipmunk and a squirrel?”
The sudden question came out of nowhere. Seon-woo glanced at him and replied dryly,
“Isn’t the chipmunk the bigger one?”
“Then what do you think that was?”
Eun-jae pointed to a gap in the trees.
As Seon-woo turned his head instinctively, he caught a glimpse of a small shadow darting through the branches. Apparently thinking Seon-woo hadn’t seen it, Eun-jae quickly stepped forward again and said,
“Right there, between those trees—ah!”
And just like that, he tripped and fell.
The rest of the team all turned their heads in alarm. As they rushed over to check on him, Seon-woo bent down beside Eun-jae, a thought crossing his mind.
Ah. So this is the event.
