At the foot of the supply record, a number appeared smaller than Doun’s name.
Video continuity support. One additional device. Price: 280,000 won. Beneath it, acknowledgment of receipt: Gwak Doun. Seorin read the amount, then checked the date again. Five days after installation.
At 09:10 on October 29, the office printer released the final page. Doun’s hand stopped before taking it.
“I should establish whether I was even here that day.”
“Is this everything you received?” Seorin asked the supplier’s representative. The call concerned only the equipment Doun had requested details for. Four pages, the representative said: two item lists, one receipt, one attachment list. The page missing from the preview lay on the desk.
She looked over all four corners of each sheet in turn before concentrating on the receipt. The last attachment page lay beside the two lists, so the part absent from the preview could be checked in its own context.
Only the receipt’s lower right was gray. The rectangle surrounding the name looked too small for a signature written on a fresh sheet and scanned.
“Was this signed on site?”
“Our delivery driver didn’t collect it. The site returned a file.”
“Who holds the paper original?”
“We only have the file.”
Doun pulled a chair. Its legs scraped; he remained standing, gripping the back.
“Saying I didn’t sign it will sound like an excuse.”
“You can say it. I’ll record separately what we can compare it with.”
He remembered no receipt signature. He did not want the date to manufacture a memory. She wrote those statements separately. Not remembering did not immediately establish unauthorized use.
The representative offered the original equipment specifications. Seorin requested preservation of the first dispatch and subsequent replies separately, without saving over what they had received. Relevant portions would suffice; unrelated transactions need not be opened.
The first list said RELAY SUPPORT DEVICE. The second included VIDEO DELAY FUNCTION INCLUDED. Their matching equipment number also matched Doun’s earlier job sheet.
“It did have the function,” he said.
“Whether you knew is another question.”
“And the manual I didn’t read remains my responsibility.”
He had not waited for her. She did not exchange his admitted failure for a signature he might never have made. Neither erased the other.
The supply record included a delay-selection field. Available ranges were printed; the actual setting was blank. No 780 appeared. She resisted shining her torch at the paper. Leaning closer to search for a nonexistent value would be ridiculous.
“The price includes the function, rather than an order for thirteen minutes.”
“That’s what these specifications show.”
Outside, a reversing alarm sounded. Access staff stopped the equipment vehicle. Dismantling remained under the contractor’s temporary standby and area restrictions; no official building-wide suspension had been decided. While they studied four pages, the schedule advanced.
Seorin sent her company notice of receipt and outstanding structural checks. The document did not cancel today’s risk assessment. While Yunjae arranged accessible exterior sections, she examined Doun’s original job sheet on its protective board without altering it.
His installation-day receipt carried his handwritten signature. The last stroke of Gwak dropped downward; the rounded stroke in his name’s last syllable remained open. The new receipt showed the same opening, even a similar tiny dot beside the name.
She began with what her eyes could support: resemblance. On the old sheet, the end of the surname and the unclosed curve were visible together, rather than isolated details from separate enlargements. The little mark beside them also resembled its counterpart on the newly received page.
She said they resembled each other.
“You mean it looks copied?”
“The same marks are visible. We need the original image and transmission history.”
He kept looking at the name under acknowledgment of receipt, without offering a new memory of that day. She let the pause remain. His lack of recollection belonged in the account, but the material they could compare would have to carry the next step.
She did not push the page nearer. The distance needed to recognize it might differ from the distance needed to bear it.
The representative agreed to supply the first emailed receipt reply through the preservation contact. Its signature section had been enlarged in the same proportions as the job-sheet signature. Inside the rectangle lay a round stain resembling the shadow of a punched hole.
The original job sheet had a filing hole immediately beside the signature.
The position fitted a crop including name and hole. Seorin stopped before writing unauthorized use. Who pasted it, when, and with what permission remained unknown. The marks did conflict with an explanation that Doun had newly signed in person.
She gave the preservation contact each source and current custodian. Instead of retaining only another photograph enlarged on her phone, she linked the received files to access to the original.
“My signature could have been treated like that.”
Doun looked up. “You haven’t found your original yet.”
“No. Not mine.”
Only afterward did she recognize her wish to merge the signatures into one event. Similar methods did not identify the same actor. She placed the form bearing her name in another envelope. Its source still had to be found on its own terms. Evidence about his signature might suggest a question for hers, but it could not supply the missing original or its transmission route.
Around lunch, Eungyeong brought acknowledgment of the preservation request and tomorrow’s dismantling standby list. Seorin explained that today’s additional structural findings would be submitted first.
“I heard there’s an irregularity in the supply record. They may have inserted an old signature for convenience.” Eungyeong addressed the document rather than Doun.
“Who requested that convenience?”
“We’re checking.”
“Please also answer whether this signature can establish personal receipt.”
Eungyeong aligned the paper edges, then promised the original order’s distribution list. Seorin recorded a response contact and time without declaring the promise false. It was a promise to obtain a list, not the list itself; she needed a place to return for the answer.
Doun went to check equipment handover records in his vehicle. Seorin obtained access clearance and accompanied him. Cold air replaced the paper’s dusty smell. He showed an empty compartment in the open rear.
“The old parts box. It was collected then. Someone should have recorded who received it.”
Repaired gloves and a dented flask lay inside. She did not linger over another person’s daily life. But he seemed less a man who remembered every job than one who wrote things everywhere to avoid forgetting.
His terminal yielded a handover photograph: two boxes, empty relay packaging and an old storage-device case.
Storage device.
“That left the same day?”
“According to the photograph’s date. I didn’t see it loaded. Clearance staff sent this afterward.”
Behind the boxes, part of a silver transport van appeared. Its number was cut off; black tape covered one rear light. Before enlarging it, she asked whether the original photograph survived. Doun offered relevant photographs through the designated contact. She invented no missing plate digits. A box label mentioned recording equipment and a date marked AWAITING REMOVAL.
Back in the office, Yunjae reported an additional point requiring examination beneath the connecting section’s floor. They would not enter to search for documents. Designated staff had marked the boundary and restricted access.
“The paperwork shouldn’t delay checking the passage.”
“Both go into today’s report. The route people used extends that far.”
Folding the supply record, she revisited its attachment list. Beside the 280,000-won delay device, transport of existing recording cases appeared as a free item, printed small.
“The thing without a price traveled with it,” Doun said.
Free did not mean nonexistent. Equipment function, someone’s signature, and boxes holding records had reached the same sheet. That was today’s progress.
The relevant transport-list extract arrived late. Eungyeong asked to review the reply together; the preservation officer checked its original sender. Seorin examined quantities before vehicle type. Empty packaging in the morning: two. Recording cases in the afternoon: two.
Doun’s photograph showed both types together. It could not establish when each was loaded. She asked whether the list covered every actual removal.
Business Support suggested entrance footage. Its camera watched the main gate externally, using equipment different from Channel 4’s relay. She requested its time reference instead of automatically subtracting thirteen minutes.
Waiting, Doun filled a paper cup with hot water. Offering it, his hand paused above the supply record bearing his name. He moved it away.
“Perhaps they thought having my signature made the delivery mine.”
“We’ll check whether a record treated it that way.”
“At other sites, when people asked for signatures like this, I sent them. Going to sign every time was inconvenient.”
She waited. He added that he remembered no permission for this receipt, but would check how earlier work signatures had been shared. She removed the claim that no permission had existed and added his explanation. Similar images could not establish the scope of consent.
He read the correction and nodded. Even a favorable statement needed amendment if inaccurate. That made the afternoon difficult for both of them.
As the sun lowered, a short viewing copy arrived. The managing body retained the original recording equipment. Seorin had permission for the vehicle sections alone.
The same black-taped light appeared. The van left the gate.
Once.
She let playback continue. Later in the file, the matching light returned through the entrance. Reflections obscured the driver’s face. Doun laid a hand beside the screen, then withdrew it.
“The list says one transport, doesn’t it?”
She placed list and footage together. Whether a departure was missing or the first vehicle had returned needed further examination. But a vehicle carrying that same mark had passed twice.
On its second departure, the rear sat a little lower.