A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive - Chapter 124

Taejoon gazed down at Wookyung, curled up inside the drum barrel.

He looked as if he were a mischievous child playing hide-and-seek, or perhaps just someone who had dozed off in a defenseless slumber.

If not for the blood-soaked clothes and matted hair, Taejoon would have simply woken him up and taken him home.

But Wookyung’s body was already cold.

And he wasn’t breathing.

“…Let’s go.”

Taejoon slid one arm beneath Wookyung’s knees and the other under his back, lifting him carefully. He also grabbed the bag that had been tossed inside the drum, slinging it over his shoulder.

Holding Wookyung close, Taejoon slowly made his way down the stairs.

Morning sunlight had begun to spill through the shattered windows, replacing the dim light of dawn.

“Choi Taejoon. The moment you kill me, everything will disappear without a trace.”

But nothing happened.

The world remained intact.

In fact, everything was so eerily calm that the gunfight and desperate struggle for survival just moments ago felt like a distant nightmare.

Then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from below, racing up the stairs.

“Ex… Executive Director… This… How did this—”

Seo’s voice faltered as he froze in place, eyes widening at the sight before him.

“I-I’ll call for an ambulance right away.”

Taejoon cast a brief glance at Seo’s disheveled state but didn’t respond.

Instead, he continued walking down to the first floor, moving past him.

The stairwell bore clear signs of a brutal struggle. Bloodstains smeared the steps, marking the violent clash between Seo and Han Youngsoon. Judging by the wreckage, the bastard must have clung on persistently, even after Taejoon’s gunshot had hit its mark.

But none of that mattered now.

Taejoon didn’t spare it another glance.

He reached the car, carefully settling Wookyung into the passenger seat and securing his seatbelt.

Then, he slung the bag off his shoulder and tossed it into the back.

The zipper had been left partially open, and as it landed, its contents spilled onto the seat—scattered sheets of the <Terminal> script, a stuffed toy, a picture frame.

Taejoon’s gaze lingered for a moment before he turned away.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he gripped the steering wheel.

His hands trembled slightly.

Slowly, he turned his head toward the passenger side.

He reached out, gently cradling Wookyung’s limp head, shifting him into a more comfortable position against the seat.

“…Your neck will hurt if you stay like that.”

The words left his lips barely above a whisper.

The weight pressing against his chest threatened to crush him.

His breath came out in shallow gasps, uneven and ragged.

His ears rang, a high-pitched hum mixing with the sound of his own rapid breathing.

His throat felt tight.

Taejoon clenched his fist, nails digging into his palm.

Then, he exhaled.

“…Let’s go.”

The engine roared to life.

As the car pulled away from the building, Taejoon rolled down the window.

The cold morning air swept in.

It was crisp. Refreshing.

Above, the sky stretched vast and cloudless.

Along the distant horizon, fishing boats bobbed on the ocean waves.

Somewhere, a radio played softly in the background, its melody blending seamlessly into the stillness.

“If the creator dies, the world disappears. That’s how it was designed.”

Park Ha Hyun’s words echoed in his mind.

It could be the truth.

Or it could be a lie.

If what he said was true—if he had truly been the original writer of <Alcohol Swab>, and his death meant the collapse of this reality—then why was everything still here?

Taejoon didn’t know.

Didn’t care.

“…Wookyung.”

His grip on the wheel tightened.

“There were so many things I wanted to say to you.”

He ran a bloodied hand across his face, smearing the dried streaks of red.

“…But it’s okay now.”

His lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

“We’ll always be together.”

Memories of Wookyung flooded his mind.

Every fleeting moment—

The small, unexpected smiles.

The way he’d scowl in mock irritation.

The warmth in his voice when he called Taejoon’s name.

For the first time in his life, Taejoon had found something he wanted to hold onto.

Someone he wanted to cherish, with no expectation of anything in return.

Someone who had given him time—no, not just time.

Wookyung had given him something far more precious.

A reason to live.

A future worth dreaming about.

Taejoon blinked, feeling an unfamiliar sting in his eyes.

Was he crying?

No.

Just a trick of the light.

Then—

A faint sound.

So quiet, he almost missed it.

“…Taejoon.”

The car lurched to a stop.

Tires screeched, skidding across the asphalt, leaving long, black streaks in their wake.

The sharp scent of burnt rubber filled the air.

Taejoon’s pulse pounded in his ears.

He turned.

“…Wookyung?”

His breath caught in his throat.

The eyelashes that had been still just moments ago—

Fluttered.

Beneath them, barely visible movements of unfocused pupils.

His lips parted.

Taejoon felt his entire body jolt as though struck by lightning.

Alive.

He’s alive.

Heart hammering against his ribs, Taejoon cupped Wookyung’s face with trembling hands.

“…Wookyung. Can you hear me?”

The weak lids lifted, just barely.

Sleep-heavy eyes met Taejoon’s.

A small, drowsy smile tugged at his lips.

Then, his gaze flickered, expression shifting from relief to concern.

“…Did you get hurt?”

His voice was hoarse, fragile—barely a whisper.

“You’re covered in blood…”

Taejoon let out a broken laugh, pressing his forehead against Wookyung’s.

“No.”

His voice wavered.

“I’m fine. Not hurt at all.”

“…Liar.”

Wookyung’s breath came in soft, uneven puffs.

His fingers twitched weakly as if trying to reach for Taejoon.

Taejoon grasped his hand, clutching it tightly.

“Stay awake, Wookyung.”

His voice trembled with something dangerously close to desperation.

“…Don’t go anywhere.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine. And look—I did as you asked.”

Wookyung’s eyes landed on the bullet-riddled shirt, catching sight of the bulletproof vest beneath. A faint smile curled on his lips.

“You… did well.”

“Let’s get to a hospital.”

Taejoon glanced in the rearview mirror, catching sight of Seo’s car pulling up behind them. Seo barely had time to park before he was sprinting toward them.

But just as Taejoon reached to undo Wookyung’s seatbelt, a frail hand grasped his wrist, stopping him.

“Wait….”

A whisper, barely audible.

Taejoon turned to face him, his breath catching.

“Why? Why wait?”

Wookyung’s cold fingers pressed gently against his arm, his head shaking weakly.

What was he trying to say?

Did he not want to fight anymore?

Was he really going to leave like this?

“…We met before, didn’t we?” Wookyung murmured. “In another world… in <Terminal>.”

Taejoon’s grip tightened.

“Yes. We did.”

Even now, even in this moment—Wookyung’s voice was so soft, so painfully familiar.

“I saw you there,” Taejoon continued. “And just like now… I loved you.”

“Then… that’s enough.”

Wookyung’s eyes fluttered open just slightly, glazed but still shining. His lips quivered as if forming a smile, though too weak to hold it.

And then, in a voice so faint, it nearly dissolved into the wind, he whispered:

“…Let’s meet again.”

A trembling hand reached up, brushing Taejoon’s cheek in the gentlest of touches.

And in that moment—Taejoon felt everything.

Felt what Wookyung was trying to say.

Felt the emotions in that final touch.

This was goodbye.

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

A choked breath lodged in Taejoon’s throat, his body trembling violently as he fought against the truth pressing down on him.

His mind screamed—begged—for something, anything to change.

But Wookyung’s breath never returned.

Then—

A strange sensation washed over him.

Taejoon lifted his head, blinking against the sudden shift in the air.

The sound of distant sirens—abruptly cut off.

The vast sky over the sea—fading, as though the sun itself had dimmed.

Then, as if someone had switched off the lights, the lighthouse in the distance winked out, swallowed by an encroaching darkness.

The entire world—crumbling, piece by piece.

Taejoon’s breath caught.

Everything around him—turning to dust.

Disappearing into the void.

He had seen this before.

Once before, in <Terminal>.

Slowly, he turned his head.

On the other side of the fading road, Seo stood frozen, eyes wide in horror.

Their gazes met.

Seo took a single step forward, arm outstretched, lips parting to shout—

“Executive Director—!”

But before he could finish—

He vanished.

Gone, like smoke dissolving into air.

“…Wookyung.”

Taejoon clutched Wookyung closer, arms tightening around him.

As if—if he held on tightly enough—he could keep him here.

Could stop everything from slipping away.

The world trembled beneath him.

A deep, echoing rumble like a dying heartbeat.

Like ink smeared across a canvas, colors bled together, melting into a void of endless black.

Like everything had simply… never existed.

A gust of wind rushed through the car, flipping through the pages of the <Terminal> script in the backseat.

Taejoon’s lips parted.

“…I love you.”

His voice was steady.

Unwavering.

Eternal.

And for a fleeting moment—just before the darkness swallowed everything—

He could’ve sworn he heard Wookyung’s voice answering back.

I love you, too.

Taejoon didn’t blink.

Didn’t close his eyes.

Even as the world—

Faded into nothing.

The end.