A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive

I woke up to the sound of my morning alarm, eyes fluttering open with excitement.

Today is my first day at work!

The first day at a new job should always start with bright morning sunshine.

I opened the window wide, stretching as the sunlight poured into the room. Thankfully, my fever was completely gone, and I felt great.

Now, if only I could safely get through all the dangerous events Choi Taejoon had mentioned without much trouble, my life would be perfect. With a satisfied smile, I stretched again and moved to get out of bed—only to pause.

“What’s that noise…?”

I thought I was alone in the house, but it sounded like someone else was here. The faint aroma of coffee, the smell of frying bacon, and the voice of a morning news anchor drifted through the crack in my door.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

When I opened the door, I saw Choi Taejoon sitting on the living room sofa.

“Executive Director?”

At the sound of my voice, Taejoon merely gave a brief nod without taking his eyes off the television screen.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

It was the first time I’d seen him at this hour, even though I was staying in his house. Still, he didn’t bother to look at me and simply replied, “Eat breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

Someone wearing an apron was moving busily in the kitchen. Come to think of it, the housekeeper wasn’t supposed to be here yet… So, who was cooking?

I leaned closer to see.

“…Secretary Kim?”

It was Secretary Kim. He glanced at me, giving a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning back to the stove and switching off the induction burner. He picked up a frying pan and plated some food.

Secretary Kim was cooking breakfast.

To me, he was like a demon, but in this story, he was the only person who remained loyal to Choi Taejoon until the very end.

When it came to Taejoon, Secretary Kim took care of everything, from preparing meals to running small errands and even handling secretive tasks.

I hadn’t realized his job extended to making breakfast at the crack of dawn. Watching him, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

He must be working so hard…

“Secretary Kim, do you have a spare black tie?”

As Secretary Kim placed crispy bacon and a sunny-side-up egg on my plate, he answered, “Yes, I do. I’ll prepare one for Mr. Woo Kyung.”

“Wait, what’s going on? Why do I need a black tie?” I whispered, confused.

This time, it was Taejoon who answered. “Watch.”

Following his gaze, I turned to the TV in the living room.

The reporter’s excited voice filled the room as they described the scene:

“The late Gil Sanghoon, former Vice Chairman of Taesung Industries, is being mourned today at a temple in Mapo. Despite the early hours, the area is crowded with police, local residents, and Taesung officials.”

The vice chairman of Taesung Industries had died.

“Oh.”

Suddenly, I remembered the original story.

This was the incident that dominated the news early in Rubbing Alcohol. The vice chairman’s death marked the beginning of the power struggle within Taesung Industries.

“Look, your face is on TV,” I said, pointing to the screen.

The broadcast was showing footage of the late vice chairman’s achievements, followed by segments about Choi Taejoon, his role in the succession battle, and the company’s future prospects.

From what I recalled, the vice chairman had been the one who guided Taejoon to his current position and acted as his shield against Director Kang’s schemes.

The chairman, however, remained loyal to his son, Director Kang Jaewook, right until the end. After the vice chairman’s death, Taejoon had to fight his battles alone.

Looking at Taejoon now, with his subdued demeanor, black tie, and faintly melancholic expression, I finally understood.

When Secretary Kim opened the car door, I noticed Taejoon hesitate for a moment.

He looked startled to see me sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Where’s Kim Daeri?”

His question carried a mix of doubts: Is Woo Kyung even capable of driving in this condition? and Why should I ride in a car driven by Woo Kyung?

“Assistant Manager Kim couldn’t make it today due to personal reasons,” Secretary Kim explained. “I’ll take care of everything, Executive Director. Woo Kyung, switch seats with me.”

Choi Taejoon sat in the back seat with a dissatisfied expression.

“Forget it. Let’s just go as is.”

As Secretary Kim settled into the passenger seat, I could feel Taejoon’s piercing gaze drilling into the back of my head.

“Can you even drive properly?”

“Of course! I’m a seasoned driver.”

It wasn’t just empty bravado—driving was one thing I was genuinely confident about. Back when we didn’t have a manager available, I used to drive my siblings to events myself.

My driver’s license wasn’t exactly obtained through the official channels of this world, but I had one nonetheless.

Still, with Taejoon sitting behind me, it felt as though I were taking a high-pressure road test. I straightened my shoulders and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“How’s your condition?”

“Perfectly healthy!” I replied with enthusiasm.

Taejoon chuckled softly at my spirited response.

“Good. Let’s get moving.”

As we exited the underground parking lot, the gloomy Seoul sky unfolded before us. Heavy, low-hanging clouds hovered ominously, threatening to swallow the city whole. It was like gazing at a high-resolution black-and-white photograph.

The weather felt perfectly suited to a funeral.

A few minutes into the drive, I noticed through the rearview mirror that Taejoon had gone quiet, his expression calm and serene, as though he’d fallen into a deep sleep.

Secretary Kim, mindful of his superior’s rest, tried his best not to disturb him. He quickly checked incoming calls, answering only the essential ones in a hushed voice, efficiently handling them in as few words as possible. I figured this was part of the reason why I’d been entrusted with driving today.

“How much longer?”

Taejoon’s hoarse voice interrupted the silence, startling me slightly.

“The navigation says about seven minutes left.”

Secretary Kim reached for a lighter and leaned back slightly, as though preparing to light a cigarette for Taejoon. It seemed like this was his usual smoking break.

“No need. Just give me water.”

Instead of lighting the cigarette, Taejoon grabbed a bottle of water prepared in the car, drank half of it, and let out a short sigh. His bloodshot eyes looked utterly exhausted.

“Woo Kyung.”

“Yes?”

“Stop glancing back so much. Keep your eyes on the road.”

He caught me. I had no idea why I kept sneaking glances at him—it wasn’t deliberate, but I couldn’t help it. Before I could stammer out an excuse, Secretary Kim stepped in smoothly to change the topic.

“Shall I go over today’s schedule?”

Taejoon nodded slowly, his eyes closing again.

“After the send-off ceremony, we’ll head directly to the burial site in Yongin. From there, you’ll proceed to the Sinsa-dong office. However, the private meeting with the chairman you mentioned yesterday seems unlikely.”

Taejoon’s weary eyelids lifted slightly, his sharp gaze alert once more.

“Why?”

Secretary Kim hesitated, his lips pressing into a tight line as if weighing his words.

“Does the chairman have another appointment? …He shouldn’t.”

“Shall I double-check?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the car. Watching Taejoon’s expression, Secretary Kim reluctantly continued his report.

“Once you arrive at the office, there’s a meeting scheduled with executives from real estate, construction, and finance. Participants include Director Kang Jaewook, Executive Director Seo Taesik, Advisors Song Inhwan and Han Jaehoon, and…”

As Secretary Kim spoke, I could feel his suspicious gaze darting toward me. He seemed to be debating whether it was appropriate for someone like me, with so many questionable details surrounding me, to hear such sensitive information.

But what could I do? It wasn’t like I could say, “Don’t worry! I’m not listening!” in the middle of the car.

I focused on looking oblivious, keeping my eyes glued to the road ahead, staring intently at traffic lights, and even counting down the seconds at each stoplight to appear as though I wasn’t paying attention.

“What’s the issue?”

“…Pardon?”

“This is the third time already.”

Secretary Kim hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Well, the chairman is quite elderly, so…”

Taejoon let out a soft, cynical laugh.

“The old man’s being overly cautious, isn’t he? Does he think I’m going to eat him alive?”

The oppressive tension in the car felt as heavy as the weather outside, weighing down on all three of us.

The stifling atmosphere was finally broken when Secretary Kim’s phone rang. After a short, tense call, Kim turned back to Taejoon with a troubled expression.

“It seems Director Kang’s group is causing a commotion. They’ve gotten into a physical altercation with our team.”

“A fight?”

“Yes, apparently they’ve clashed over the security arrangements at the main entrance.”

As we approached the temple entrance, adorned with colorful lanterns, the scene of chaos came into view. Just as Kim had described, a full-scale brawl was underway at the gates.

“Uh… it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to drive through. What should we do?”

“Woo Kyung, pull the car back. Let’s try the rear entrance.”

“Understood.”

But it was already too late—the car was surrounded by a sea of people.

“Damn it.”

Police buses, reporters, and curious onlookers had crowded together, blocking every possible exit. Some were even climbing onto the car. I rolled down the window and waved my hand.

“Move! It’s dangerous there!”

The reason for the commotion was simple.

In events like these, controlling the main entrance security detail was symbolic of power. Director Kang’s group was trying to take over what Taejoon’s team had been managing throughout the funeral.

In essence, this wasn’t just a scuffle—it was a direct clash in the ongoing power struggle between Director Kang and Executive Director Choi.

“What now? If I try to move, I might hit someone. There’s no way out.”

It seemed impossible to maneuver the car out of the crowd. No matter how much I honked or shouted, the people outside only grew more aggressive, some even climbing onto the car.

“I’m getting out.”

Taejoon, who had been silently observing the situation, opened the car door.

“Executive Director! You can’t!”

“That bastard Kang Jaewook just couldn’t help himself, could he?”

The cold, emotionless mask Taejoon usually wore had disappeared. In its place was the sharp, cutting edge of the real Taejoon—the one I’d admired in the original story.

“Everyone, follow me.”