A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive

“How scary. At this rate, I might get hit. You know, I’ve been taking a lot of medication lately, so I’m not as strong as I used to be.”

Kang Jaewook smirked, his tone dripping with mockery, as he struck a sparring pose.

The two men closed the distance between them once more.

“Let’s keep things quiet today, just this once,” Taejoon said, his voice laced with restraint.

“Well, seeing as how we’re sending off the late Gil Sanghoon, I figured it’d be less lonely for him if I stirred things up a bit. You should be grateful for my efforts.”

Taejoon’s face was now inches from Kang’s, his expression dark and full of menace.

“Don’t speak the vice chairman’s name with that filthy mouth of yours.”

At Taejoon’s warning, delivered in a low and controlled voice, Kang’s lips curled into a mocking grin.

“If Gil Sanghoon was so precious to you, then you should’ve done a better job protecting him. Don’t whine and complain now that he’s dead.”

“Kang Jaewook, I’m warning you politely. Don’t push me.”

If his voice had been a blade, it would’ve pierced straight through Kang at that moment.

“Gil Sanghoon, Gil Sanghoon… damn it, Gil Sanghoon. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Kang Jaewook was undeniably insane. His childish provocations were as absurd as they were infuriating. Taejoon clenched his jaw so hard I could hear the faint grinding of his teeth. His fist, tightly coiled, looked as if it might land squarely on Kang’s jaw any second.

“Come on, just hit me already. Let’s get things started properly. I’ve been itching to hear the starting gun, but no one’s fired it yet.”

The tension between the two men spread to their respective subordinates, who were now glaring at each other with barely restrained hostility.

But Taejoon was the first to take a step back, exhaling deeply.

“Hah…”

As tempting as it was to react to Kang’s juvenile provocations, Taejoon knew better. Today, of all days, he needed to maintain some semblance of decorum—at least for the send-off ceremony.

Taejoon relaxed his tightly drawn brow, unclenched his fists, and let his shoulders drop back into their natural position.

“You’re really something. Always choosing the most childish and irritating behaviors on purpose.”

His expression softened, and he took a step back, putting some distance between himself and Kang.

“You’ve had that habit since you were young, didn’t you, Jaewook? Whenever you screwed up, you’d stir up chaos around you to make your actions seem insignificant in comparison. It’s the one thing you’ve always been good at.”

“What are you talking about? That’s such a random accusation,” Kang said, his grin faltering slightly.

“You’re too old to be stealing wallets from your father, so what is it this time? Illegal gambling? Money problems? Drugs? Or…”

Taejoon casually reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette case. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he smiled coldly.

“Murder? Although, for someone like you, hiring someone to do the job would suit you better than getting your own hands dirty.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Murder? What nonsense is this?”

“Vice Chairman Gil. That was your doing, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

Kang’s grin remained, but his expression twisted with unease.

“Come on, just say it. Which one was it? Did you kill him yourself, or did you order it?”

Why am I stuck between these two maniacs, awkwardly watching this unfold?

The tension in the air was suffocating, and my stomach churned, threatening to rebel.

Fight all you want, but could you at least wait until I’ve left this novel?

Just then, the sound of chanting and the solemn ringing of bells echoed through the temple grounds, as if signaling the end of the first round.

Kang smacked his lips and adjusted his sliding sunglasses.

“Well, this has been entertaining, Executive Director Choi. I must say, you’ve grown much more human since I last saw you. Even cracking these pitiful little jokes.”

As though he’d just figured something out, Kang clapped his hands, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Ah, so the police have been sniffing around, spreading those idiotic rumors. And it was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one running your mouth.”

This time, Taejoon chuckled softly. His eyes lazily scanned the surroundings before he replied.

“Enough. Go outside and clean up the mess, Executive Director Kang. Regardless of your feelings, your uncle has passed away. If his nephew is strutting around grinning like this, who wouldn’t find it suspicious?”

Kang bit his lip, still wearing a smile, though his expression was anything but happy.

“Family, my ass. That’s as ridiculous as the claim that Taejoon and Woo Kyung are relatives.”

Kang’s gaze shifted toward the chaotic main entrance, his annoyance evident as he muttered.

“A funeral is just a formality, isn’t it? You wave goodbye and have a bit of fun—it’s as simple as that.”

“Don’t worry, Jaewook. On the day of your funeral, I’ll make sure to remember this and return the favor,” Taejoon replied sharply.

Kang shrugged nonchalantly before turning his attention to me, as though searching for a new target to vent his frustration.

Lifting his slightly askew sunglasses, he peered down at me, his sharp gaze glinting with something unreadable.

“You.”

His transparent, reddish-tinted eyes glimmered behind the lenses as he addressed me.

“Your name is Hyun Woo Kyung, right?”

“Y-yes, that’s correct,” I stammered.

Kang Jaewook’s thin, red lips suddenly curled upward as he let out a mocking laugh.

“Our Executive Director Choi really does have a type—he’s always been into pine trees.”

He continued, his tone laced with derision.

“He just can’t resist a pretty face with an empty head. Well, the face is a pass. And judging by the way you keep saying you don’t know or can’t remember anything, it seems like your intelligence is well below average.”

“That’s not true. My brain is actually quite sharp,” I interjected.

Perhaps thinking I was joking, Kang burst into laughter.

Sure, I’d neglected my academics during my trainee days, but I’d always been above average.

“Since Mr. Hyun Woo Kyung here claims to have a sharp brain, I guess he’s not your type, Executive Director Choi. Right, you two are supposed to be ‘relatives,’ after all. I keep forgetting that convenient little lie.”

Judging by the look I imagined on Taejoon’s face, he was probably disgusted to the point of not even wanting to respond.

Kang slid his sunglasses back onto his face and gave Taejoon a mocking wave.

“Executive Director Choi, let’s grab a drink sometime soon.”

As he turned to leave, he pressed down hard on my shoulder with his full weight as though it were some twisted gesture of farewell.

“And you, Woo Kyung, see you again. Next time, I’ll come find you myself.”

He enunciated his last words as though savoring them, then turned sharply toward the main gate, his steps exaggerated. He shouted to his subordinates.

“Hey, you lot!”

His voice was loud and sharp, completely at odds with his wiry frame.

The men who had been fighting over the main gate all turned to him, their attention snapping into focus like the sudden silence of a malfunctioning radio.

“Time to pack up and head home. If we keep this up, our dear Vice Chairman might burst out of his coffin.”

As his words rang out, his men responded with loud cheers before begrudgingly standing and brushing themselves off.

Meanwhile, Taejoon’s subordinates looked tense and uncertain. Letting them leave just like that felt unjust after Kang’s side had started the scuffle. It was infuriating to let them walk away scot-free.

But Taejoon gave a curt order to his people.

“Clean up the area.”

His priority was to see the funeral through without further incident, which was why he’d chosen to let Kang go without escalating things.

Taejoon himself started picking up fallen branches from the ground, prompting even the reluctant subordinates to follow his lead. I, too, busied myself, righting overturned flower wreaths and banners. The scene looked as though a stampede had swept through, leaving chaos in its wake.

A nephew rampaging at his uncle’s funeral—what a disgraceful, irreverent spectacle.

“Is your head okay?”

I looked up to find Taejoon standing close, watching me as I was about to straighten my back after stuffing debris into a trash bin.

“Yes, unfortunately, it seems my life isn’t in danger,” I replied, brushing off my hands.

His gaze lingered on me, a heavy, assessing look that felt oddly uncomfortable. His expression was displeased, though I wasn’t sure why.

Avoiding his eyes, I patted my back and asked nonchalantly, “By the way, why would someone with a preference for dumb people be your type? Wouldn’t it make more sense to go for someone smart?”

“You actually believe that nonsense?”

“I just find it strange. I mean, everyone has their preferences, but being into people who aren’t bright? That’s an interesting choice.”

Taejoon paused as though stunned, his expression teetering between disbelief and exasperation. Then he flicked his extinguished cigarette into a nearby trash can.

“Kang Jaewook and you,” he began, lowering his voice.

His usual shadow, Secretary Kim, was off in the distance talking on the phone, leaving us alone. Taejoon glanced briefly in his direction before turning back to me, his tone even lower.

“What happened that day?”

I blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, I couldn’t recall what “that day” he was referring to. Then Kang Jaewook’s earlier comments resurfaced in my mind.

“Oh, do you mean the day you helped me? Or the stuff that happened before we met?”

Taejoon’s brows furrowed as though regretting the question entirely. He looked annoyed, like he already wanted to retract his words.

“Forget it. Don’t answer.”

Their first meeting had occurred when I barely escaped from Kang Jaewook. Taejoon must have been curious about what had happened between me and Kang at the hotel before he showed up.

Even back then, the state I was in—covered in bruises and cuts—had likely given him a pretty good idea of what had happened. But seeing Kang’s antics today must have stirred up even more suspicions.

Now that I thought about it, Taejoon was supposed to have a possessive streak, wasn’t he? It hadn’t come up much before, so I’d nearly forgotten.

I cautiously opened my mouth. “So, you’re curious about what happened that day, right?”

“I said forget it. Don’t answer.”

But Taejoon’s response only encouraged a flicker of mischief to rise within me.

Suppressing a grin, I adopted a serious expression and asked, “What part of that day are you curious about? Are you wondering about the physical communication part?”

Taejoon’s lips parted briefly, as if to respond, but then pressed firmly shut again, as though he’d decided the thought wasn’t worth pursuing.

Wait a second… is he jealous right now?