A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive

As I fell, the stinging pain in my knees and elbows spread like fire, but when I saw who had thrown me to the ground, a trace of fear crept in.

The person who had slammed me down was none other than Manager Kim.

Since when was he this strong? I had always thought of him as more of a strategist, but apparently, his physical strength was just as formidable.

The man accusing me of theft grabbed my collar again, dragging me upright in front of Manager Kim.

“Manager, this thief stole the Executive Director’s property….”

“I’m not a thief!” I shouted, holding up the lighter so Choi Taejoon could see it from afar.

“Executive Director! This—this is yours, right? You left it in the bathroom, didn’t you?”

Choi Taejoon remained silent, and the accuser smirked mockingly.

“Does any thief ever admit they’re a thief? This punk’s got some nerve. Hey! Do you even know who this man is? You’ve picked the wrong target, kid!”

“I do know who he is! That’s exactly why I went out of my way to return this!”

“Listen to this little brat…!”

“Let go.”

Choi Taejoon’s voice cut through the chaos, silencing everyone as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the scene. He turned to the man holding me, his expression tinged with irritation.

“What? Executive Director, what did you say…?”

“Manager Yoon, I said let him go.”

“Oh. Yes, sir.”

The man released his grip on my shirt reluctantly, stepping back with an air of hesitation. His glare, however, still radiated malice, as if he was itching to pounce on me again.

“I didn’t steal anything. I swear!” I said.

“I know,” Choi Taejoon replied calmly.

“Then why do they keep calling me a thief?”

My voice trembled as I glanced down at my disheveled appearance. My shirt was torn, my pants were filthy, and my face was undoubtedly a mess. At some point, I had started crying, tears trailing down my cheeks without my noticing.

The sticky summer humidity clung to me like a second skin, and the pungent smell of sweat only made my nausea worse.

Clicking his tongue, Choi Taejoon pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket and placed an unlit cigarette between his lips. He then pointed at the lighter still clutched in my hand.

“Fine. Bring it here.”

I hesitated, still seething, as he approached me.

Before I could move, he grabbed my hand and firmly held it in place.

“…!”

Slowly, he pried my fingers open and flipped the lighter’s lid. With a distinct click, the flame flared to life, sharp and blue against the dark.

As he leaned in to light his cigarette, his face drew close—so close I could see every sharp line of his nose and jaw, the cigarette dangling from his lips catching the faint glow of the flame.

“Why are you messing with other people’s belongings?” he asked, his voice low.

“What if it went missing?” I muttered.

“What does that have to do with you?”

“It’s my father’s keepsake. The first and last luxury he ever allowed himself, even though he couldn’t smoke.”

“It’s important to you, isn’t it? I didn’t want it to get lost.”

For a brief moment, Choi Taejoon’s expression softened, but his eyes quickly sharpened again.

“How do you know it’s important to me?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“How do you know it’s something I treasure?”

“Well… because all possessions are important. If you lose something, it costs money to replace it, and that’s a waste. Then you’d have to earn more money—”

I rambled nonsense, desperate to cover my tracks. I couldn’t possibly tell him I knew about it from the novel.

“Someone like you wouldn’t carry just any lighter around. It’s probably expensive, so of course, it’s important.”

Please believe me. Please.

“I should’ve just left it where it was!” I blurted. “Let someone else pick it up, or let the cleaning lady throw it away. Then I wouldn’t have been accused of stealing or beaten up like this! I wasn’t even expecting a ‘thank you.’ What is this nonsense?”

My awkward rant earned me a long, steady stare from Choi Taejoon. He seemed to weigh my words before speaking again.

“What’s your name?”

“Hyun Woo Kyung. Woo Kyung,” I answered nervously.

Choi Taejoon repeated my name softly, almost as if committing it to memory. His gaze swept over me, studying me carefully.

The sweltering heat of the asphalt mixed with the lingering buzz of alcohol in my system, making my head swim. The distant hum of car engines and muffled music added to the surreal atmosphere. His lips, forming the words Hyun Woo Kyung, seemed to move in slow motion.

“Hyun… Woo Kyung.”

After observing me for a moment longer, Choi Taejoon let out a small sigh and released me.

“Fine. You can go.”

Go? Just like that?

I stood there, stunned. My entire body ached, and my clothes and shoes—my only set—were ruined. What was I supposed to wear tomorrow?

And yet, after everything, no apology. Not even from the men who had beaten me up.

Frustrated, I called after him, my voice cracking.

“Hey! Don’t you think you owe me an apology?”

Choi Taejoon paused, along with Manager Kim and the others who had assaulted me.

“I returned your property, didn’t I? And instead of a ‘thank you,’ I got beaten up! This is unfair—I can’t just let this go!”

I glared at the men who had hit me, my chest heaving.

“What are you going to do about it, huh?” one of them sneered.

“I’ll report all of you. Every single one of you!” I shot back.

Their laughter erupted like a chorus, and the man I had bitten laughed the loudest.

“Report us? Go ahead. Try it!”

“Do you think I won’t? I’ll report you right now if I have to!”

Choi Taejoon smirked, one corner of his mouth curling upward.

“Fair enough.”

I had no idea what he meant by fair enough, but he shrugged, pulled out his wallet, and grabbed a wad of cash. Without hesitation, he held it up in front of my face.

“Take it.”

“…!”

I stood frozen, unable to comprehend the situation. Seeing my blank expression, he casually tossed the money in my direction.

The wind chose that exact moment to blow, scattering the bills in every direction.

“If you need more, contact him.”

By him, he likely meant Manager Kim. But none of his words registered in my head. My eyes were locked on the bills flying toward the road.

There was so much money that I couldn’t even begin to estimate the total.

Wait. Could this be that scene?

A memory from the original novel suddenly flashed in my mind.

In the story, after spending the night with Hyun Woo Kyung, Choi Taejoon throws money at him, calling it payment for their night together. The current situation wasn’t remotely similar, but his words were identical.

“Take it. If you need more, contact me.”

In the novel, Hyun Woo Kyung stuffed the cash into a trash can and stormed out of the hotel.

But I wasn’t that Hyun Woo Kyung. Grateful, I crouched down and began gathering the scattered bills.

“This money is mine. Nobody touch it!”

Oh, how much could this be? This level of financial consolation was more than enough to dissolve my resentment. As my hands filled with cash, the anger in my heart began to melt away like snow under the sun.

With this money, I could leave that filthy accommodation and spend a few days in a clean, comfortable place. What a blessing!

Choi Taejoon lit a fresh cigarette, watching me with mild disdain before turning toward his parked car.

“Let’s go.”

And then it happened.

“Huh?”

A sudden flash of light cut through the darkness. I stuffed the remaining cash into my pocket and squinted at the light.

What now?

The blinding glare of the headlights made it impossible to keep my eyes open.

I stared at the approaching vehicle, my thoughts sluggishly piecing things together. Why is that car parked there? The moment the thought crossed my mind, the car roared to life, its engine growling as it sped directly toward us.

“Move!”

“Executive Director! Watch out!”

“Executive Director!”

The car was hurtling toward us at a terrifying speed.

It all happened in an instant. As I tried to move out of the way, my legs buckled. From crouching too long, I must have cramped up.

It wasn’t intentional. I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.

“Ahh!”

Just as the car was about to hit Choi Taejoon, I shoved him aside and took the impact in his place. A sharp, searing pain tore through my body.

What the hell? Did I just get hit by a car?

The impact sent me flying through the air before I crashed to the ground.

Ouch. It hurts—it hurts so much.

The screeching sound of tires against asphalt echoed in my ears. The car that hit me veered off and sped away.

“The thief saved the Executive Director!”

I’m not a thief, you bastards!

“Catch them! Don’t let that driver get away!”

I hadn’t planned to save Choi Taejoon by sacrificing myself. I had just been crouching to pick up cash, and my cramped leg gave out at the worst possible moment. That’s all.

The chaos around me blurred as my hearing faded in and out. Shouts and screams mixed together, but I couldn’t distinguish one voice from another.

“Take him to my car.”

“I think… he’s already dead.”

“Get him to a hospital. Now!”

I felt nothing throughout my body.

Wow. I must be seriously injured. Come to think of it, maybe I’ll get lucky and die. That wouldn’t be so bad.

Even as my consciousness began to fade, Choi Taejoon’s panicked expression remained crystal clear.

Not bad. If this is the last thing I see in this world, it’s a decent way to go.

And look—he’s genuinely worried about me. How fantastic is that?

The edges of my vision darkened, and soon, I couldn’t hear anything. My stiff lips curled into a faint smile.

Finally, there was nothing to see, nothing to feel.

Oh, so this is it. I’m really dying. Ha, I did it. Time to go home.

The yellow stars in the summer sky shimmered like they were about to burst, adding their glow to the stifling heat of the night.

Goodbye, Choi Taejoon.

Goodbye, Alcohol Swab.