The day I signed the rental contract, the landlord was shirtlessly repairing water pipes.
The hideous scars on my arms pierced my eyes, and I was so scared that I packed my luggage overnight.
A perverted stalker, I blocked him at the entrance of the elevator and yelled at him, is it amazing to be discharged from the army? Get away!
Until one day, the company's president parachuted in for an inspection.
In the conference room on the top floor, I looked up and met those familiar cold eyes.
He slowly opened his military trench coat, revealing the scar I am most familiar with.
I heard that he leaned close to my ear. Are you telling people everywhere that I am dead?
