"Mr Kim, please come to my office."

A tall slender young man sits at his overworked desk, his face in his hands, sending out fatigued auras. Several piles of paperwork and filed documents, neatly arranged at the side, in order of due date and relevance. A pot of pens and pencils sit next to a buzzing computer monitor, displaying depressed statistics and analytics. A black phone, to constantly remind him of the day ahead, and of course if he were to be summoned by his leader. Although many had photographs of family and close friends in other offices, he has none. Instead replaced by sticky notes, displaying messy Hangul, around the perimeter of his monitor screen and all over the walls, accompanied by sheets of paper relevant to the company. What stood out was the golden plated plaque on staring out to the rest of the room:

• Kim Namjoon Executive director •
Dragonfly LTD

Yes, he did have his own office, compared to many others who had to share and endure cramped work spaces, but this did have his toll. He does have lavish furnishings, consisting of a sofa, coat rack, television, coffee machine and microwave, but his clothes from the previous day still remain crumpled on his bare back. The thin blankets lie limp on the sofa. Many mugs left unwashed and cups of ramen left to stand. The uncertainty in his mind to where he left the TV remote at three o' clock this morning.

This wasn't anything different to what he knew, he's always been used to stopping at work and pulling all nighters, with no one to go home to, besides a feline friend, what would be the point?

"Now Mr. Kim."

With a sigh he presses [1] and picks up the phone.

"Be right there." He replies, a slight croak in his voice.

Co-workers, staff, managers, project leaders all frantically contribute as cogs in the 'Machine of  the company', processing orders and generating produce. Some passing papers, photocopying work, drafting emails, no two jobs consisting of the same input, workload or output. He stares at the do-gooders, chatting around the water fountain next to the CEO's office. He scoffs.

"What's wrong nosey? Jealous that we have a more lax job then you? Or that we actually have friends" One laughs, a white plastic cup, half full with water, in his hand.

"Break finished an hour ago. If you have the time to continue talking about your insignificant personal lives, then you have the time to complete that health and safety report on the new life hospital project I sent you yesterday afternoon. Which I have NOT received on my desk." He expands his eyes and puts his hands on his waist. Towering over them. "I'm about to see the CEO, so unless you want me to bring this up, I'd get back to work. You don't get paid for nothing."

Namjoon, with a long stride, approaches the door, and knocks against it. His access granted when he hears a cold "come in!". Running his fingers through his hair, and exhaling deeply, he opens the door and closes it on the do-Gooders outside.

"Mr. Jung" He bows, his hands to his side, and half closed his eyes. Then raising back up, and putting his hands behind his back. "You called?"

Namjoon greets his Hyung, who is most definitely older than him, thirty years older at least, leaning back on a large office chair, his fingers interlocked, resting below his nose. On his desk is a closed black ring binder various stationary, paperwork and photos of his son, in front of his intimidating desk, two pristine leather armchairs.

"Yes, take a seat." He waves his hands over the armchairs, signalling Namjoon to sit down.

As he rests his hands on the arms of the chair, preparing to sit, he notices a small label on the binder. Written in Hangul. His name. Namjoon clenches his jaw and sits.

"How's being executive director? You've only been in that department for a few months, and have had a heavy workload. You've been doing well." Mr Jung applauds.

"Thank you for the complement, but it's just my job." Namjoon slightly bows his head in appreciation.

Mr. Jung chuckles slightly, leaning forward on his desk, his fingers still interlocked with one another, but is resting against the desk. "How long do you expect to work for Dragonfly in your department? Five years? Ten years? Until you retire? Well I guess retiring in this day and age for Korean workers would be seen as impossible."

"I-I don't know. I've just been promoted to my position, so I don't see myself leaving any time soon." He replies. Although working in an office job, managing the production, distribution, and sales of building materials (for the leading company in Korea) may not be something that Namjoon would want to do for the rest of his life. "I guess it's something to think about for when the time comes."

"Hmmm." Mr. Jung tilts his head slightly. "How's the salary?"

"I live comfortably as a single man. It's all I need, not want."

Random thoughts shoot through Namjoon's head, the main one being why he was summoned by the CEO in the first place.

"Will this be all sir? I have important paperwork to attend to." Namjoon states.

"Ah. No." Mr Jung leans over, and opens his drawer, pulling out a piece of glossy A5 paper. "I saw this, and I'd like you to consider it." He smiles, passing it to him. Namjoon leans over and takes the paper, crinkling it slightly at the bottom, where his fingers and thumb had clasped it. His eyes traced over the bold title at the top:

UNEMPLOYED CANDIDATES NEEDED

"What is this?" He asks, looking back up at his boss.

"Do you know who's funding this?" Mr Jung asks. Returning to his original position - clasped fingers under his nose and leaning back into his chair. "BearTide Corp. They're one of their main sponsors. Also one of our leading competitors. They're supplying the building materials for this project. Constructing the building where this is taking place."

Namjoon glances back at the flyer.

WE NEED YOU TO TAKE PART IN A PRIVATE EXPERIMENT FOR THE SAKE OF SCIENTIFIC AND PSYCHOLOGICAL RESEARCH INTO BASIC CONFORMITY.

"So what do you want me to do then?" Namjoon asks. "Do some research on the investigation?"

"More than that. I looked at your file of your previous work and I think you're perfectly capable for what I'm about to offer. There is a possible bonus for you here. I want you to participate. But as well as doing that, I want you to investigate the building and do some digging. BearTide would never support researchers, as they have a fear of losing money. There needs to be a specific reason for why they decided to help fund this. That's what I want you to find out."

"So all I have to do is act as a participant and find out information?"

Mr. Jung nods.

"They may also have confidential documents inside. Anything you find you must collect. Who knows, it could either be a simple funding, or a partnership. Let's hope it's not the latter. The contact details are on the flyer. Have a think about it."

——

Opening the door to his top floor penthouse, a ray of light sheds into the abyss of the room. Throwing bags and coats on the large sofa, throwing himself onto the other. Large glass windows stretch across one side of the wall, overlooking the city of Daegu.

"Hey Tori." Namjoon smiles, noticing his cat rub against his leg that hangs over the sofa. He scratches under her chin.

He reaches into his right pocket and pulls out the flyer.

The moonlight shining against it.

...