My Boss is a CHICKEN?!

I was lying in bed like a dead fish.

Limp. Lifeless. Emotionally fried.

It had been three days since I got fired.

Two days since I witnessed the world's most illegal chicken cosplay.

And let me tell you—

NOTHING in my life could've prepared me for that cursed transformation sequence.

Like—ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!

Who turns into a chicken?!

What is this? A rejected Disney plotline?!

If I told anyone what I saw, they'd slap holy water on my face and check me into a hospital.

Not that I would tell anyone. I'm just saying.

But hypothetically, what would I even gain? (Says the girl with exactly two friends. And one of them, Yuna, is basically a news channel with legs.)

Still, I couldn't do that to their reputation.

I could've. I should've.

But alas, I'm too morally superior.

Even if Mr. Jeon is my arch-nemesis, my ultimate workplace villain, outing his chicken curse feels a little too far.

"OUCH!" I yelped as I crashed off my bed like an exhausted baguette.

Correction: I didn't fall.

I was kicked.

The culprit?

Yuna.

Resident sloth.

Self-appointed emotional support disaster.

She's been at my place for two days trying to "cheer me up" since I got fired.

(Translation: she's been freeloading on my bed and snacks uninvited.)

"YAH, MIN YUNA!" I roared.

No response. She didn't even flinch.

That woman could sleep through a building collapse.

Groaning, I got off the floor, legs itching with vengeance.

She was sleeping face down, drooling slightly, presenting her glorious zero-glute butt to the ceiling like an offering.

So I did what any mature, unemployed woman would do:

I kicked her butt and stormed out of the room like a queen without a kingdom.

She groaned and rolled over like an unconscious potato.

What is she made of?! Titanium?!

I dragged myself to the kitchen like a half-zombie and made the only thing I knew how to cook:

Coffee.

Mouthwatering, healing, emotionally supportive coffee.(Ok, it was instant mix. So what? Let me romanticize my life.)

I sat at the table and glanced at the time.

10:30 a.m.

"MIN YUNA!!! IT'S 10:30! ARE YOU PLANNING TO GET KICKED OUT OF YOUR COMPANY TOO?!"

...Silence.

Of course.

She was still asleep.

This woman could sleep through an earthquake, a burglary, and probably her own wedding.

Only two things can wake her:

Her mother's slippers… and men with deep voices.

Just as I was about to sip my barista-level coffee when she suddenly burst out of my room like a reality show contestant mid-drama.

"YOU UNPLUGGED MY PHONE TO CHARGE YOURS?!" she whisper-yelled.

"Not sorry."

"There's someone on the line! I picked it up thinking it was mine!"

"Who?"

"A man. With a deep voice."

Calm down, woman.

I prayed the man on the other end hadn't heard her simping through the microphone.

I glanced at the screen.

Unknown number.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Good morning, Miss Kim. Did I disturb you too early?"

My eyes widened.

Wait… this voice.

"M-May I know who's calling?"

"Ah, you didn't recognize me. My bad. I'm Jaehyuk's dad."

I stopped breathing.

My soul left my body.

internal malfunction.

WHY. IS. HE. CALLING. ME?!

"Ah… Sir! Sorry! I didn't recognize you over the phone! I just woke up and my brain is… lagging."

Why am I talking like I drank three Red Bulls and forgot English?

He chuckled gently.

"It's alright. I'm sorry if I woke you. I assumed it's early."

I shook my head violently.

"Nonono sir! Not at all! It's not even early, it's 10:30! I was already up!" I lied casually, still in my sleep shirt and hair that looked like a bird's nest after a rave.

"Is that so? I'm relieved."

Awkward silence.

Ten seconds of me praying he's not calling to sue me.

"Um… may I ask why you called, sir? Is everything okay?"

Please don't say you're suing me for poultry defamation.

Please don't say you're offering me to Bamseok as breakfast.

Please don't say your gorgeous wife wants to duel me.

"Glad you asked, It's about Jaehyuk. I heard he fired you?"

Oh.

So he knows.

I exhaled like someone who's been holding it since 2003.

"...Yes."

"Was it because of the, uh… secret?"

"NO!" I blurted. "He fired me before that! For a totally ridiculous reason…"

"Go on."

"I just wanted one day off. ONE. But your son has this… God complex where he thinks leave requests are personal attacks. So I lied. I told him my grandma was sick. He found out, and BAM—terminated. Just like that. Do you know how humiliating it is to say 'I got fired because I faked my grandma'?!"

I stopped.

Oh no.

I was ranting now.

To his father.

Of the man who turned into a bird.

Wow.

Therapy session unlocked.

But honestly, someone had to tell him what kind of dictator his son was running over employees like potholes.

He chuckled.

"I'll talk to Jaehyuk. Or better—we'll talk to him together. Can you come to our house before 3?"

Wait.

WAIT.

Is this… is this rehire potential?!

Is he offering me a second chance?!

BUT—

His house?!

The same one where his son hatched in front of me like a KFC fairytale gone wrong?!

I went silent.

He chuckled again.

"Are you scared we'll do something to you?"

"HOW DID YOU KNOW?!"

I slapped my forehead.

Shut up, Mira. SHUT. UP.

He laughed out loud this time.

"I promise we won't harm you. Jeons don't their break promises. And I assure you, you'll have your job back if you come."

Am I dreaming?!

Did I actually just rant my way into a second chance?!

But…

The mansion.

Again?!

What if this is a trap?

What if they lure me in and turn me into the next chicken heir?