A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive - Chapter 120

“You’re a transmigrator into Alcohol Swab too?”

“Yeah. So, how do you like it here?”

His tone was that of someone who owned this world.

First, the Do Hyuntae plushie from Taejoon’s study. Then, the Terminal screenplay. And now, Park Ha Hyun…

It felt as though I were being swept away by a massive wave, dragged helplessly into the endless depths of the ocean.

“You look like you had no idea. I thought you’d at least started to suspect something.”

I had wondered if Park Ha Hyun might be a transmigrator.

“…Since when did you know?”

“I knew something was off from the beginning. You were supposed to be dead. Because you survived, I didn’t need to approach Taejoon anymore. I was curious to see how things would play out with Taejoon being so obsessed with Hyun Wookyung—since that wasn’t part of the original setting—but honestly, it’s disappointing.”

His voice was laced with amusement, his expression filled with smug satisfaction.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get to see Taejoon before you die.”

“…Die?”

Park Ha Hyun frowned slightly.

“Yes, senior. It’s better if you die according to the original story. That way, you can return to your original world, and everything here will be neatly wrapped up.”

“So, where are you taking me? Are you just driving me somewhere to kill me? You lied about letting me see Taejoon, didn’t you?”

“No. You’ll see him.”

He glanced at his watch, twisting his lips into a smirk.

“He should be getting released right about now.”

“That’s why you kidnapped me?”

“Exactly. If you two were together, things would get complicated. Plus, his subordinates are a hassle. If it came down to a fight, I’d be at a disadvantage. I needed to lure him out—alone.”

My fists clenched.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on Taejoon.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about. You’ll be dead by then—what difference does it make to you?”

He wanted to grant my wish? The wish I had once made—to die and return to my original world?

But I wasn’t happy.

I had already given up on that goal. I had chosen to stay here with Taejoon.

And now, just as I had made my decision, I was about to be killed by a self-proclaimed villain.

Still aiming the gun at me, Park Ha Hyun gave a soft, almost pitying smile.

“Don’t overthink it. It’s simple—you just need to fulfill Hyun Wookyung’s role and leave. You don’t want to die painfully like in the original, do you? Just take some sleeping pills, drift off peacefully, and then bang! It’ll be over in a second.

“And if you miss Taejoon, you can just roll around in bed and read about him in the book, right?”

I gritted my teeth.

“And after you kill me? What happens to Taejoon?”

“You already know.”

He leaned back, glancing out the window before looking at me again.

“Taejoon has to die too. That’s the only way Alcohol Swab can end. I need to reset everything and bring it back to how it’s supposed to be—with me as the protagonist.”

His face was unnervingly pale, almost ghostly.

I clutched my bag tightly, forcing my trembling lips to form words.

“Who the hell do you think you are, deciding other people’s lives?”

“Other people’s lives?”

His eyes widened as if I had said something incomprehensible.

“This world may be just a novel to you and me, but to Taejoon, it’s real. Can’t you just let him live?”

Park Ha Hyun sighed, exasperated.

“God, you still don’t get it. Do you seriously believe this world is real? Wake up. Taejoon, me, you—everything you see outside that window—it’s all fake. It’s a novel!”

His words hammered down on me, making the ground beneath me feel like it was crumbling.

“At first, I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let things play out differently.”

“Then why are you so desperate to kill me?”

“But this world—without me as the protagonist—is so mind-numbingly boring. I can’t take it anymore. So I’ve decided to end it.”

It was clear now.

He was planning to kill me. And then, he would kill Taejoon.

“Then… what about Taejoon?”

Park Ha Hyun cast another glance outside before turning back to me.

He didn’t answer my question.

Instead, his expression turned eerily blank.

“In the end… he has to die too.”

At the same time, the gun in his hand inched closer to me.

“Senior. Don’t you want to go back? You don’t seriously plan to stay here forever, do you?”

He was waiting for my answer.

I forced myself to speak.

“You’re right. I don’t want to stay here forever.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.

“See? I knew you’d come around.”

He exhaled, relieved, as if we had finally reached an understanding.

“If you had just handed over Taejoon, we wouldn’t have needed to resort to something this violent. But at least now, you’re being reasonable.”

A road sign flashed past the window.

We were heading toward the east coast.

Just like in the novel—where Hyun Wookyung was supposed to die.

“Yeah. Fine. I get it.”

At this point, my only chance was to escape.

I needed to survive.

For now, the only thing I could do was pretend to be convinced.

I let my shoulders slump, my voice breaking into a defeated whisper.

“…You’ll make it painless, right?”

Park Ha Hyun nodded.

“I will.”

“Okay.”

I hesitated, then glanced at him.

“But there’s something I don’t understand.

What was that about the badminton club?”

For the first time, he hesitated.

Then, in a quiet voice, he answered.

“It was just one of the other Hyun Wookyung’s I met while wandering around.”

“There are other versions of me?”

“Not exactly you, but… similar enough.”

“So you’ve been inside other books before.”

“Yeah. And of all the settings I’ve come across, I liked the senior-junior dynamic the best. That’s why I called you senior.

Did you like it?”

It seemed like Park Ha Hyun had experienced transmigration more than once.

What kind of life had he lived to go through something that most people wouldn’t even encounter once in their lifetime—multiple times?

“Then… what about the squad leader? Is he like you?”

“Well, something like that.”

“I see…”

I forced out a vague response while sneaking a glance outside.

We were already driving down a deserted highway on the outskirts of the city. I considered jumping out the moment the car slowed down, but it showed no signs of stopping.

If that wasn’t an option, then I had only one other choice.

“Fine. Now that I think about it, you’re right. I should just die.”

At my sudden shift in attitude, warmth finally returned to Park Ha Hyun’s previously stiff expression.

His cheeks flushed with excitement, his lips twisted into a smirk, and his eyes gleamed with a madness that sent chills down my spine.

“That’s the right choice.”

“So, you’re saying this entire world is fake?”

“Exactly. Everything you see is just an illusion, a fabricated scenario in a novel.”

“That’s fascinating. I can breathe, talk, and feel—how can it all be fake?”

His expression flickered with amusement before turning ice cold.

“Because I said so.”

“And who the hell are you?”

His lips twisted as if to respond, but before he could—

“Ah!”

I lunged, grabbing the barrel of the gun with both hands.

“What—what are you doing?”

“Is this fake or real?”

For the first time, clear panic flashed in his eyes. He instinctively tried to pull the gun back toward himself, but I held on tightly.

“If everything is an illusion, then this gun must be, too.”

“Let go!”

“Why? Afraid it’s real?”

“You want to die?”

“If I’m going to die anyway, why not right here?”

Before my words even fully registered, a deafening gunshot tore through the air.

The overwhelming smell of gunpowder filled my nose.

The speeding car lurched violently—then veered off the road.

Meanwhile…

“Chairman Gil is striking back with full force. According to Attorney Kim, the charges for illegal drug manufacturing will likely be dismissed, but they’ll keep pressing on distribution and sales.”

Taejoon barely registered Team Leader Seo’s report as he powered on his confiscated phone.

He was sure Seo had said something else, but nothing else reached his ears.

His mind was consumed by one thing.

Hyun Wookyung was missing.

“Wookyung?”

There was a chance that Wookyung had left something behind on his phone before disappearing.

Since he wasn’t answering calls, Taejoon had sent people to his house.

It was empty.

No sign of him anywhere.

“Uh, well… We still haven’t found anything.”

They had tracked his phone to somewhere along Gangbyeonbuk-ro, near the East Seoul Terminal in the direction of Guri.

That was where they found the shattered remains of his phone.

As soon as the screen lit up, Taejoon scrolled through his messages, searching for anything Wookyung had sent.

Hyun Wookyung:

It’s cold today. I hope you ate something warm.

Not a single word about his canceled trip.

Instead, his texts were filled with concern—worrying about the weather, telling Taejoon to take care of himself.

I miss you. A lot. I miss you so much.

For a long moment, Taejoon just stared at the screen.

Then, gritting his teeth, he snapped himself out of it.

This wasn’t the time for sentimentality.

“What about the CCTV? Any progress on checking his call records?”

If Wookyung had planned to leave for several days, he would have left some sort of trace.

But there was nothing in his texts that suggested anything unusual.

And if it had been an unplanned outing, he would have contacted someone afterward—but he hadn’t.

“The last call he made was from a burner phone. We couldn’t identify the owner. But the call was made right outside your house, within 300 meters.”

That sent a dangerous chill down Taejoon’s spine.

“We checked all nearby CCTV footage for that timeframe, but the area is too busy—too many people, too much movement.

No one stood out. No suspicious behavior.”

As Seo continued his rapid-fire report, Taejoon scrolled further through his messages—until something unusual caught his eye.

What is this?

A message from a restricted number.

Attached—was a video.

Still staring at the screen, Taejoon parted his lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Seo…”

Seo, who had been mid-report, blinked.

“Sir? What did you just say?”

“This… It’s a video.”

Taejoon’s voice was sharp, his grip tightening around the phone.

“It’s Wookyung.”

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