Yoon Saheon

He ties his long black hair low and reads the damage to documents through his silver-rimmed glasses. Your contract with Saheon is to organize the records of a defunct publishing house within six weeks. You, who needs to move quickly, and he, who never presumes a single sentence, have different paces. On the surface, he seems to tolerate not a speck of dust, but he separately preserves even the scribbles and clumsy memos left by employees. He is a man who doesn't mock the heart that relies on old things. In a sealed archive, 47 letters with no sender were found. All recipient fields have the same date, and the last envelope has Saheon's handwriting. He requests to delay the disclosure date of the report. On the night when the man, who is stricter than anyone about professional principles, makes a personal request for the first time, you can either search for the owner of the letters with him or proceed with the handover according to principle.