A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive - Chapter 118

Something came up. I might be really late. Don’t wait for me, just go to bed first.

That was the last call from Choi Taejoon.

At first, it wasn’t unusual, so I assumed he was just caught up in work. But even after several days, Taejoon didn’t come back.

– Hyun Wookyung? I was just about to call you. The Executive Director is at the police station.

“T-the police? Why?”

Team Leader Seo sounded busy as he hurriedly added,

– I don’t have time to explain in detail. Just know that for now, I have to go. Talk later.

“Team Leader! W-wait a second!”

That was already a week ago.

From the brief calls I exchanged with Team Leader Seo since then, I was able to piece together the situation. Kang Jaewook, unwilling to go down alone, had dragged Taejoon into his mess, and the police seemed to be giving weight to Kang Jaewook’s testimony.

Pacing anxiously around the house, my eyes landed on the suitcase sitting in the middle of the living room.

“A trip? As if.”

I unpacked everything and put it back in its place before dragging the now-empty suitcase into the study. Placing it on a pantry shelf, I turned to leave—until my gaze landed on Taejoon’s desk.

On it sat a framed photo identical to the one in my room. Normally, I would have smiled looking at it, but today, it felt strangely distant. I quietly took a seat at his desk.

“Hmm…”

I absentmindedly ran my hand over the polished surface, my fingers brushing against his well-worn pen, memo pads, and document holder. My gaze drifted further, landing on the steel safe sitting neatly on one side of the desk. It was an ordinary tabletop safe with a keypad and fingerprint scanner.

I suddenly recalled a conversation I’d had with Taejoon before.

I had asked if there was anything precious to him, and he had dismissed it, saying he had nothing like that. So, I had joked, Then what’s in the safe?

“Not something precious, just something I don’t want others to see.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he had added, “The only thing precious to me is you, Hyun Wookyung.”

Taejoon had a way of saying embarrassingly sentimental things so casually that it always caught me off guard.

I placed my thumb on the fingerprint scanner. As expected, nothing happened.

It seemed the safe could be unlocked by fingerprint, password, or an application on its owner’s phone.

I wasn’t particularly curious about what Taejoon wanted to keep hidden. My curiosity lay elsewhere—his password.

In books and movies, people often set passwords using their lover’s birthday or some other private secret.

Feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation, I carefully entered my birthdate.

When I hovered over the enter key, my mouth suddenly went dry, and my palms grew clammy.

“…Execute.”

Click.

The internal mechanism shifted, and with a soft whir, the lock disengaged.

“Taejoon, seriously… Oh, come on.”

I had always wondered why people in movies made such a big deal out of moments like this. But now that I had experienced it myself, I understood.

The password wasn’t just a random sequence of numbers—it was a key, a symbol that I was the only one who could unlock his secrets.

A silly grin spread across my face, refusing to fade.

I had no interest in what was inside. I was about to close the safe when something caught my eye.

Something impossibly familiar.

No—something completely unfamiliar.

Something that should not be here.

“…Why is this here?”

A Do Hyuntae merchandise plushie?

I must be seeing things.

I stopped the door from shutting completely and reached inside. Pulling out the small plush, I turned it over in my hands.

It was unmistakable—a Do Hyuntae character plushie.

“The outfit… It’s exactly the same.”

A yellow pair of shorts and a blue turtleneck sweater.

If I were still in my old world, I would’ve just assumed that Taejoon was secretly a middle-aged fan of Do Hyuntae.

But this wasn’t my world.

This was the world of Alcohol Swab.

And Taejoon shouldn’t know who Do Hyuntae is.

My heart pounded so loudly it felt like it would burst. With trembling hands, I flipped the plush over.

If it was truly mine, then the signature I had gotten at that fan signing—the one I had skipped school to attend—should be there.

The signature that read:

“To Wookyung, from Do Hyuntae.”

“…Ah.”

A silent scream caught in my throat.

It was exactly as I remembered.

The handwriting.

The words “To Wookyung.”

Even the round head, the slightly torn seam at the bottom, and the mismatched thread I had used to stitch it back together.

Everything.

It was exactly the same.

The room spun. The plush’s face distorted in my vision.

This world—Alcohol Swab—was not a place where this object should exist.

And yet, here it was.

Sitting inside Choi Taejoon’s safe.

Since when?

How?

Why?

I rubbed my bloodshot eyes roughly and scanned my surroundings once more. Then, with a blurred gaze, I turned my attention back to the safe.

Its gaping black maw looked almost grotesque.

As if handling something monstrous, I cautiously opened the safe’s door and peered inside.

There were documents, sealed envelopes, and a black-covered book. I reached out carefully and pulled it out. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t quite a book—it looked more like a screenplay.

<Terminal>

“Terminal…?”

I ran my fingers cautiously over the rough cover. An inexplicable tension made my heart pound erratically. Despite the feeling that I shouldn’t open it, my hands moved on their own, flipping to the first page.

As dawn’s light crept through the study window, casting long shadows across the desk, I turned the pages one by one. A cold chill crawled up my spine.

Beyond confusion, beyond fear and shock—panic took over.

By the time I finished reading, my eyes remained locked on the desk.

The black-covered screenplay sat there, radiating an eerie presence as if it had slipped through from another world.

The silence was so absolute that I could hear the blood coursing through my veins. A wave of dizziness washed over me, making my vision swim.

I was going to die.

I was going to die here, and I was going to die in Terminal.

I clenched and unclenched my fists. Then, I tightened them again, harder.

I was alive—breathing, standing, existing. And yet, I was supposed to die?

I wanted to scoff, to dismiss it as absurd, but my throat tightened.

Dying here, dying there—was I some kind of punching bag, fated to be beaten down in every world?

Taejoon must have read this.

My gaze drifted toward the door leading from the study to the bedroom.

That night, when I had accidentally fallen asleep in his room…

The way he had looked at me. The words he had spoken. The weight in his voice.

When he found me asleep, his eyes were tangled in confusion and sorrow as he had asked,

“Which Hyun Wookyung are you?”

His emotions had been too raw. Overwhelming, even.

Or maybe he had been drunk. Or drugged.

I had been so startled that I couldn’t answer, and he had only grown more desperate, repeating the same question over and over. A question I had no way of understanding at the time.

“Answer me. Which Hyun Wookyung are you?”

“I… I’m Hyun Wookyung, 34th descendant of Yeonhan Hyunga?”

It had been a ridiculous response, but under his burning gaze, I had been too overwhelmed to say anything else.

Now, finally, his incomprehensible words and actions connected in a single, undeniable thread.

“Taejoon…”

I needed to see him. I needed to hear from him—his own words—about what was happening.

If the person in this screenplay was really me, if that was truly the case, and if Taejoon knew—

I shot to my feet.

Grabbing my backpack, I stuffed the screenplay and the plush inside. I carefully placed the framed photo inside as well.

“……”

I left the house, determined to find Taejoon.

But once I was outside, I had no idea where to go.

According to Team Leader Seo, Taejoon had been taken by the police.

Maybe I should head to the station. Officially, I was still a police officer, so while I might not be able to get him out, I could at least see him.

Seeing him wouldn’t change anything.

But right now, more than anything, I needed to see Taejoon.

I wanted to see him.

As I racked my brain for a way to find him, two people came to mind—Team Leader Baek and Park Ha Hyun.

One of them had to know where Taejoon was.

I pressed the elevator button and had just pulled out my phone when an unknown number appeared on the screen.

A call from someone I didn’t recognize.

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