The employees groaned louder at the thought, but Suho’s grin only widened. In his mind, he was already imagining the receipts—premium phones, laptops, and even luxury appliances as "prizes." All perfectly valid company expenses, all burning through system funds.
As the last exhausted runners limped across the imaginary finish line, Suho clapped his hands once more. "Good! Rember, health is wealth. Tomorrow, we do it again."
The employees, drenched in sweat, muttered under their breath. To them, it felt like torture. But to Suho, it was a golden opportunity.
All the employees looked at Suho standing at the front of the line, curiosity flickering in their eyes. They whispered among themselves, confused as to why the boss had gathered them so early.
Wu Yu tugged on Jin Wu’s sleeve, lowering his voice. "Brother Yan, what’s going on? Why is Mr. Kim making us stand like schoolkids?"
Jin Wu shook his head, frowning. "No idea. Probably sothing about the workshop. Don’t worry about it. You’ll et the clients I lined up for you later. Just rember to bring the samples."
"Okay, Brother Yan," Wu Yu whispered back.
At that mont, Suho’s voice cut across the courtyard. Strong, deliberate, every syllable carrying weight:
"There are so things I need to announce today. After observing everyone for the past few weeks, I’ve co to a conclusion—you’re all in terrible shape. Sub-healthy. It’s dangerous."
He paused, letting the words settle. Employees shuffled uncomfortably.
"The body is the foundation of everything. Without health, there is no work, no family, and no future. That’s why, starting today, we’re implenting a morning exercise routine. Half an hour of running every morning."
Groans rippled through the crowd. Suho’s lips curled into a sly smile.
"Relax. I’m not a tyrant. You’ll only have to run three days a week. But—" he raised a finger, "—I’ll be appointing pacemakers. They’ll run every day."
Murmurs grew louder. Who would be the unlucky ones?
Suho let the silence drag before announcing, "Li Shen. Jin Wu, Kim Jing."
A wave of relief swept through the employees, imdiately followed by gleeful glances at the three poor souls.
Kim Jing, the cafeteria chef, raised his hand weakly. "Boss, I... I can’t run. I barely make it down the hall without huffing."
Suho clapped him on the back. "Exactly why you need it. The weaker you are, the more important it is. Persist, and your health will improve."
Groans turned into resigned laughter. The order was final.
"Ten laps around the workshop," Suho commanded. "Start now."
Reluctantly, the line broke into a jog. Li Shen and Kim Jing dragged themselves to the front as pacemakers, their faces already grim. Jin Wu lingered, rubbing his neck.
"Boss, I have a client eting. Important one. Maybe I should skip—"
Suho’s gaze sharpened. "Clients can wait. Your health cannot. Run."
Jin Wu sighed but obeyed, muttering under his breath about bosses who valued jogging over sales.
...
By the third lap, Kim Jing was drenched in sweat, puffing like a steam engine. "Li Shen... I can’t... go on!"
"This is only the third lap," Li Shen wheezed back, his shirt plastered to his chest. "Hold it together."
Kim Jing stopped mid-lap, clutching his side. "Boss! I surrender! My legs... they’re gone."
Suho strode over, expression unreadable. "Then walk. Ten laps ans ten laps. Even if you crawl, you’ll finish."
The chef’s face twisted in despair, but he obeyed, shuffling forward.
One by one, others slowed to a walk. By the fifth lap, nearly half the team were dragging their feet, sweat pouring, and lungs burning. Suho stood, arms crossed, surveying them like a general watching raw recruits break.
Good, he thought. The worse they run, the worse they work afterward. Lower efficiency ans lower production. Lower production ans lower profits. Perfect.
But to keep morale high, he needed a carrot to go with the stick.
"Everyone listen!" Suho’s voice rang out. "This isn’t punishnt—it’s preparation. The company will hold a sports et soon. Winners will get real prizes: smartphones, laptops, and brand-new appliances. Sweat now, and you’ll walk away with more than just stronger legs."
The effect was imdiate. Eyes lit up. Tired backs straightened. Grumbles turned into determination. Employees pushed harder, suddenly seeing the finish line as sothing golden.
Even Jin Wu, soaked and gasping, found himself accelerating. "Damn it," he muttered. "Boss knows how to bait us."
...
anwhile, across town at Kim Decoration, Woo Jin was slumped over his desk, bleary-eyed. He had stayed up all night finishing the dormitory renovation plan Suho had ordered.
Chen Jun leaned over his shoulder. "Xiao Jin, is it done?"
"Yeah." Woo Jin yawned, rubbing his temples. "Design, budget, all of it."
"Let see." Chen Jun scanned the drawings first. Clean, well-structured, nothing glaring. Then he opened the budget—and froze.
Nine hundred and thirty thousand won. For a dormitory.
He flipped through the details. Premium tiles. Imported eco-friendly paint. Branded air conditioners, one per room. Beds and furniture from luxury suppliers. No shortcuts anywhere. Woo Jin hadn’t inflated costs—he had simply picked the most expensive options across the board.
"930k?" Chen Jun muttered. "For staff housing?"
Woo Jin bit his lip. "Boss said every room must have its own AC, no bunk beds, independent bathrooms, and top-quality materials. I followed his instructions."
Chen Jun leaned back, silent. Last ti, he had doubted Woo Jin, only to be slapped with approval. This ti... better to say nothing.
Woo Jin clicked send, firing the proposal to Cho Rin. "It’s done. Now we wait."
But the reply ca faster than either expected.
Inbox: [New Mail] From: Cho Rin.
Woo Jin opened it, heart pounding. He skimd the words, then froze. "...Approved. Full paynt to be made."
Chen Jun’s jaw dropped. "Approved? Instantly? With no revisions?"
Woo Jin exhaled shakily, a grin breaking through. "Yeah. Boss really agreed."
Chen Jun patted his back. "Then you’re golden. That commission will feed you for months. Rember this mont—you’re working for the most unpredictable boss in Korea."
Woo Jin sat back in his chair, half in disbelief. Nine hundred and thirty thousand. Paid in full. No installnts. No bargaining. Just... yes.
What kind of madman ran this company?
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