Favez was staring at his laptop screen.

  Labor Office Complaint (Final Version)

  Date Filed: December, 2003

  Complainant: Favez (Postdoctoral Researcher)

  Respondent: Professor Han Do-yoon (○○ University)

  Grounds for Complaint:

  – Unlawful withholding of wages

  – Coercion using visa extension as leverage

  – Forced verbal work instructions without documentation

  Evidence Submitted:

  – Employment contract

  – Email notice of wage suspension

  – Call logs

  – Personal notebook records

  – Witness: Seo Mina

  Favez read through the file again.

  For the third time.

  No typos.

  The dates were correct.

  Nothing missing from the evidence list.

  He clicked Save.

  The printer whirred to life.

  Pages slid out one by one—

  the contract, emails, copies of notebook entries.

  Fifteen pages in total.

  He placed them neatly into a clear folder and slipped it into his bag.

  Today, he had decided, he would submit it in person.

  Favez took a number from the dispenser.

  37.

  Ten people were ahead of him.

  He sat in a plastic chair and looked out the window.

  The December sky was gray,

  clouds moving faster than usual.

  His phone vibrated.

  Mina.

  “Did you get there?”

  “Yes. I’m waiting.”

  “…Are you okay?”

  Favez didn’t answer right away.

  He asked himself the same question.

  “Yes. I’m okay.”

  “Call me after you submit it.”

  “I will.”

  After hanging up, his hands began to shake.

  This wasn’t fear.

  It was tension.

  “Number 37.”

  Favez stood and walked to the counter.

  The clerk took the documents and reviewed them one by one.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  The complaint form.

  The contract.

  Printed emails.

  Notebook copies.

  “You have a witness?”

  “Yes. A student from the same lab.”

  “Is she reachable?”

  “Yes.”

  The clerk stamped the papers.

  “Your complaint has been accepted.

  Case number 2003-12-1847.

  An investigator will be assigned, and you’ll be contacted within a week.”

  “Thank you.”

  “One thing to note—

  during the investigation, the respondent may become aware.

  You should be prepared.”

  Favez nodded.

  He already knew.

  Leaving the counter, he stood in the hallway and looked at the receipt.

  Case Number: 2003-12-1847

  Just a single sheet of paper—

  but it felt heavy.

  There was no going back now.

  This was the beginning.

  Mina spotted Favez from across the café.

  “How did it go?”

  “It’s filed.”

  He showed her the receipt.

  Her eyes moved between the paper and his face.

  “So the investigation starts now?”

  “Yes. They said they’ll ?? within a week.”

  They drank their coffee in silence.

  Students passed by outside.

  A perfectly ordinary lunch hour.

  For them, it wasn’t.

  “Are you scared?” Mina asked.

  “I am,” Favez said. Then added,

  “But what scares me more is doing nothing.”

  Mina nodded.

  She understood.

  It was past 7 p.m., edging toward 8,

  but no one was leaving.

  The professor was still in his office.

  Senior researcher Bohyun approached Mina,

  a paper envelope in hand.

  “Mina, can I talk to you?”

  They stepped into the hallway.

  “Next Friday is the professor’s birthday.”

  Mina nodded.

  She already knew.

  It was marked on the lab calendar.

  “I’m in charge of the gift this year…”

  Bohyun opened the envelope.

  Inside were pages from luxury brand catalogs.

  “Thinking a Gucci wallet or a Fendi tie.”

  “How much?”

  “About six hundred thousand won.

  Last year, Taesu organized a Gucci belt.

  If we go cheaper than that…”

  He didn’t finish the sentence.

  Mina understood.

  “So we’re collecting contributions.

  Fifty thousand won per person.”

  Mina’s hand stiffened in her pocket.

  ?50,000.

  Her budget this month was already tight.

  Bohyun held out the envelope.

  “Put it in by tomorrow.”

  “…Okay.”

  “Oh—and be at Gangnam Station by 7 p.m. Friday.

  The professor booked a club. Birthday party.”

  With that, Bohyun returned to the lab.

  Mina stood alone in the hallway, staring into the envelope.

  Several ?50,000 bills were already inside.

  Favez stepped out into the hall and stopped when he saw her.

  “What’s going on?”

  She showed him the envelope.

  “Professor’s birthday gift. Fifty thousand each.”

  Favez’s expression hardened.

  His salary was still withheld.

  “And Friday night—Gangnam club.”

  They looked at each other.

  No words were needed.

  The complaint had been filed.

  An investigator would call within a week.

  But Friday would come first.

  The birthday party.

  The luxury gift.

  What he called “Solar Day.”

  Mina opened her wallet, took out a ?50,000 bill, and slipped it into the envelope.

  Favez watched silently.

  “You too…?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll put mine in tomorrow.”

  He couldn’t refuse either.

  It was a lab “tradition.”

  Mina opened her notebook.

  December, 2003

  Labor Office complaint filed (Favez)

  Case No. 2003-12-1847

  Below it, she added another line.

  Professor’s birthday gift: ?50,000 (luxury brand)

  Friday: Gangnam club

  Two timelines were moving at once.

  One was the complaint.

  The investigation.

  Hope.

  The other was birthdays.

  Luxury brands.

  Nightclubs.

  Mina set down her pen and looked out the window.

  Four days until Friday.

  Would the investigator call before then?

  Or would the professor call them in first?

  Solar Day.

  Friday night, 7 p.m.

  A nightclub in Gangnam.

  Drinks flow.

  Music thunders.

  The professor smiles.

  And that night—

  a dispute breaks out over the bill.

  Documented.

  Stamped and assigned a number.

  Unwritten.

  Enforced through silence, money, and expectation.

  it’s what happens before anyone acknowledges it.

  Gifts.

  A club reserved in advance.

  but corruption treated as routine.

  “Is this wrong?”

  “How long can both timelines coexist before they collide?”

  The next chapter steps fully into that collision.