Han-Ho's apartment at ten thirty PM on a Friday.
The laptop was loading something. Netflix was asking if he was still watching with the gentle persistent judgment it always had and which he always ignored until it gave up and went to screensaver.
Moru was on the corner of the couch.
Kjor was on the other corner.
River was on the counter next to the kettle because the kettle was River's primary source of wonder and proximity to it was River's preferred resting state.
Min-Seo was on the middle couch section because the couch had three sections and Moru's corner and Kjor's corner were established and the middle was therefore Min-Seo's by default which was how things had arranged themselves over nine days without anyone formally deciding anything.
Han-Ho was on the floor.
Not because there was no room on the couch. Because the floor was where Han-Ho sat when he was at home in the evening and he had been sitting on the floor in this apartment for four years and the couch was for other people.
His phone buzzed.
He looked at it.
Yoo Chae-Won.
Han-Ho. I've been thinking about the brand situation. Hear me out.
Han-Ho looked at the message.
Looked at his phone.
Typed: No logos.
A pause.
You didn't hear me out.
I don't need to.
The footage is going to be everywhere by morning. You walked alongside the oldest entity in the world. In a work uniform. With a notebook. On a Friday.
I know.
The views are going to be enormous.
Okay.
You should benefit from the views.
I have a route on Monday.
HAN-HO.
The route still needs running.
A longer pause.
What if it wasn't a logo, Yoo Chae-Won typed. What if it was just a name. Your name. On the uniform. Kang Han-Ho. Small. Professional.
Han-Ho looked at his work uniform hanging by the door.
It had his name on it.
It said HAN-HO CLEANING in small letters on the chest.
It had said that for four years.
My name is already on it, he typed.
A very long pause.
...It is isn't it.
Yes.
I've been trying to put your name on something that already has your name on it.
Yes.
That's.
Yes.
Another pause.
Okay what about the bag.
No.
The notebook.
No.
The work trousers.
No.
Han-Ho I am trying to help you.
I know.
You are going to be the most recognized person in Korea by Monday and you have no brand infrastructure.
I have a route.
THAT'S NOT BRAND INFRASTRUCTURE.
Han-Ho put his phone down.
Picked it up.
Talk to me on Wednesday, he typed. After the river bank work. If the cleanup is on schedule we can discuss what help with the views means. Not logos. Not product placement. If there's a way to use attention to improve Registry response protocols or Mana-Janitor support infrastructure then that's worth discussing.
A long pause.
The longest pause yet.
That, Yoo Chae-Won typed slowly, is the most unexpectedly strategic thing you have said.
I've been thinking about the response protocol since Monday.
I know you have. I read Ms. Yoon's briefing.
If the footage creates attention and the attention creates pressure for institutional improvement that's a better outcome than logos.
Han-Ho.
Yes.
Are you sure you're Rank F.
Yes.
One skill.
Stain Removal.
Right.
Wednesday, Han-Ho typed. After the river bank.
Wednesday, Yoo Chae-Won typed back. After the river bank.
Han-Ho put his phone down.
Looked at the laptop.
Netflix had given up and gone to screensaver.
He pressed play on the episode he had been trying to finish for two weeks.
The episode started.
On the couch Min-Seo was also on his phone.
He had been on his phone since they got back. Not the six messages from other S-Ranks that he still hadn't answered. A different conversation. One he had been composing in his head for nine days and had finally started typing.
It was to his manager.
I need to reschedule the Thursday brand meetings, he typed. Indefinitely.
His manager responded in approximately four seconds because his manager was extremely efficient and also slightly afraid of him which was a dynamic that had developed naturally and which Min-Seo had never discouraged.
All of them?
All of them.
Min-Seo the Thursday meetings are—
Reschedule them.
Is this about the Yeouido incident—
It's about my schedule. Reschedule the Thursday meetings.
Where are you.
Mapo-gu.
A pause.
You've been in Mapo-gu for nine days.
Yes.
Your apartment is in Seocho.
I know.
Min-Seo.
Reschedule the Thursday meetings, Min-Seo typed. I'll call on Monday.
He put his phone down.
Looked at the Netflix episode Han-Ho had started.
The man in the suit was explaining something to the other man in the suit.
Min-Seo had seen this episode before. It was episode three of a show he had watched two years ago. He recognized the scene.
Han-Ho had been trying to reach episode three for two weeks.
"The man in the suit is lying," said Min-Seo.
"I know," said Han-Ho. "I've tried to watch this three times. I keep falling asleep before the reveal."
"Do you want me to tell you—"
"No."
"You're going to fall asleep again."
"I'm not going to fall asleep this time."
"Han-Ho it's ten forty five PM and you've been working since seven AM."
"I'm not going to fall asleep."
From the corner of the couch Moru looked at Min-Seo.
Min-Seo looked at Moru.
They had the silent exchange of two beings who have both watched Han-Ho fall asleep before the reveal multiple times and have arrived at the same conclusion about tonight.
Han-Ho fell asleep at eleven twelve PM.
Seventeen minutes into episode three.
Before the reveal.
He fell asleep sitting on the floor with his back against the couch the way he always fell asleep which was suddenly and completely, like a building that has decided it is done standing.
The episode continued.
The reveal happened.
Min-Seo watched it.
Looked at Han-Ho asleep on the floor.
Looked at the screen.
The man in the suit had been lying about the other man in the suit who was actually the main character's brother which was a significant plot development that Han-Ho had now missed three times.
Min-Seo paused the episode.
Looked at Han-Ho.
"He's going to be annoyed," said Moru quietly.
"He won't know he missed it. He'll think he watched the whole thing."
"He always thinks he watched the whole thing."
"And then he restarts it next time and watches it again."
"This is the third time."
"I know."
"He will watch this episode a fourth time."
"Yes."
"And fall asleep before the reveal a fourth time."
"Probably."
Moru looked at Han-Ho's sleeping face.
The same face from Chapter 1. The same quiet professional concern even in sleep. The same person who had cleaned a Demon King because the seal was stubborn and a Frost Giant because he was on the road and a river contamination entity because the report wasn't responded to and the oldest entity in the world was going to be cleaned because the subsurface fractures needed addressing.
All of it the same job.
All of it the same person.
All of it the same face asleep on the floor at eleven twelve PM on a Friday with his work bag next to him and his notebook in the bag and River asleep next to the kettle and Kjor asleep on the couch corner and Min-Seo on the middle section and the Netflix screensaver waiting patiently for someone to press play.
"Moru," said Min-Seo quietly.
"Yes."
"Does he know how much has changed. Since Thursday last week."
Moru thought about this.
"He knows the facts," said Moru. "He knows about the Registry protocol revision. The reimbursements. The Director's direct line. The seven S-Ranks at the river bank tomorrow." A pause. "Whether he knows what those facts mean in aggregate. Whether he has connected the facts into the larger picture of what his life looks like now versus what it looked like eleven days ago." Another pause. "I don't think he has had time. He had a route every day."
Min-Seo nodded.
"He'll figure it out eventually," said Min-Seo.
"Probably when something makes him stop long enough to look at it," said Moru. "He doesn't stop voluntarily."
"No," said Min-Seo. "He doesn't."
They sat in the quiet apartment.
The screensaver moved on the laptop screen.
The city outside did its late Friday things.
Three blocks away on the river bank in Yeouido the oldest entity in the world sat and breathed and thought about what it meant to be awake after a very long time and to have been found by something that cleaned rather than fought and asked rather than demanded and then went to a convenience store for snacks.
It was thinking about that for a long time.
It had time.
It had always had time.
At eleven forty seven PM Han-Ho's phone buzzed.
He did not wake up.
Min-Seo looked at the screen.
A message from the Director.
Mr. Kang. The media blackout lifts at nine AM tomorrow. I want you to know before it does. The footage is significant. The communications department has been managing the situation but nine AM is the release window. It will be everywhere by ten. I thought you should know. — Director Choi
Min-Seo looked at the message.
Looked at Han-Ho asleep on the floor.
Looked at the message again.
He put the phone face down on the table.
He would tell Han-Ho in the morning.
After the green onion.
Before the seven AM cleanup start.
Han-Ho was going to need the green onion situation resolved before dealing with the media blackout situation. That was the correct order of priorities given everything Min-Seo had learned about how Han-Ho processed things.
Green onion first.
Then the most famous person in Korea situation.
Min-Seo lay down on the middle couch section.
Looked at the ceiling.
"I Re-Awakened twice," he said, to the ceiling.
The ceiling said nothing.
"Twice," said Min-Seo.
"We know," said Moru, from the corner.
"Forty million views."
"We know Min-Seo."
"Tomorrow morning the footage releases and he's going to have more views in one day than I've accumulated in my career."
"Probably yes."
"And he's going to be at the river bank at seven AM cleaning subsurface fractures."
"Definitely yes."
Min-Seo looked at the ceiling.
"Goodnight Moru," he said.
"Goodnight Min-Seo," said Moru.
"Goodnight Kjor."
"Goodnight," said Kjor, from the other corner, sleepily.
"Goodnight River."
"Goodnight," said River, from next to the kettle. "The kettle is extraordinary."
"I know River."
"When it boils—"
"I know River."
"The steam—"
"Goodnight River."
"Goodnight," said River.
The apartment was quiet.
Some Fridays ended like this.
Which was, all things considered, exactly right.