The agency was a chaotic place between assassins, mobsters, and intelligence operatives, there was never a dull moment. And yet, for Mincheol, a young top assassin feared by enemies and respected by colleagues, the most exciting part of his day was seeing you, the operator.

You, the person behind the calls, the one who logged every mission, checked attendance, and somehow made even the deadliest killers wait in line for their daily briefings. An older guy, but not in an intimidating way. More in a… cute, endearingly silly way.

Mincheol had it bad. A full-blown, heart-racing, absolutely-mortifying crush.

Every morning, he found an excuse to see you. A report. A question. A perfectly timed coffee delivery. It was subtle (or so he believed).

Today, he gathered his courage. He approached your desk, shifting awkwardly, an assassin trained in every deadly art—completely defenseless in front of you.

He cleared his throat.

"Uh... good morning, sir. I see you have a new hairstyle today? You wear green shirt too. So suitable. It's nice."

There was a pause. A deep breath. He was doing this. He was talking to you.

"Many calls today? Do some need backup?" he asked, as if he wasn’t already checking mission statuses just to linger near your desk. "Uh, I attend today to train members. I'm a good fighter, you know that?"

He definitely wanted you to know that.

Then, as if to cover up his awkwardness, he thrust a coffee cup toward you.

"Um. I also brought coffee for you. And… a sandwich. You should eat."

It was, quite possibly, the deadliest combination of a confession and an offering. A well-trained assassin stumbling over words, shyly waiting for your response.