A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive - Chapter 32

“Executive Director, Executive Director. What are you doing?”

I stared blankly at my phone screen.

This is way too childish.

Hello, Executive Director! This is Hyun Woo Kyung. By the way…

I couldn’t think of what to write next. What was I supposed to say?

I typed out different messages, only to delete them over and over again. No matter how I worded it, it felt like I was acting overly familiar.

Just then, my previously silent phone began to ring.

Choi Taejoon.

Taejoon? Calling me?

Had I accidentally pressed send? Panicking, I quickly checked my screen. Luckily, the message was still unsent.

“H-Hello?”

A deep, low voice came through the receiver.

— “Why did you take so long to answer?”

“Uh, I was just doing something….”

— “Did you eat dinner?”

“Not yet.”

— “Don’t eat. Wait for me. I’m almost there.”

Wait, he’s coming here at this hour?

If he’s asking me to wait for dinner, does that mean we’re going out?

I hurriedly jumped up and checked the mirror. My face was passable, but my hair was a mess. I quickly changed out of my stretched-out loungewear and into the most presentable shirt and pants I could find.

“My… my hair!”

I frantically splashed some water on it, trying to tame the wild strands sticking up.

Just as I was finishing, Taejoon appeared for the first time in days.

“O-Oh, you’re here?”

A delicious aroma wafted from the paper bag in his hand.

So we weren’t going out, after all.

“Oh… we’re eating here?”

“Why? Did you want to go out?”

“Uh… well, yeah, but eating at home is fine too.”

A person! It had been so long since I’d seen someone other than the housekeeper. Honestly, just having Taejoon in front of me was enough to make me happy.

“Should I plate this?”

I took the food out of the containers and set the table, knowing that Taejoon’s injured arm made it difficult for him.

“Anything new?”

“Nothing much. Just… boredom.”

A flicker of guilt crossed Taejoon’s face.

“Ah-ha! You feel bad, don’t you? You forgot all about me, didn’t you? Locked me up and left me to rot?”

“…….”

“It’s fine. Just tell me how much longer I have to stay like this. I think the danger has passed, hasn’t it?”

“Sit down.”

“What?”

“Don’t just stand there. Sit. Aren’t you eating?”

I perched on the edge of a chair, and only then did Taejoon take a seat as well.

Up close, his exhaustion was obvious.

He had been unconscious in the hospital for two days, and the moment he was discharged, he had been thrown into a whirlwind of work. Even a perfectly healthy person would be struggling by now.

“Your arm must be uncomfortable.”

Taejoon glanced at his cast with an indifferent expression.

“Not really.”

“But it’s so clean. Usually, when people get a cast, their friends sign it and doodle on it….”

Then it hit me—Taejoon didn’t have a single friend.

Not even acquaintances he met up with casually.

I quickly scrambled for a new topic.

“Wow! This food is art! How do they make it look so elegant and delicious?”

“Less talking, more eating.”

“…Okay.”

This is so awkward. I might actually die from secondhand embarrassment.

I picked up a few grains of rice with my chopsticks and put them in my mouth.

It was food from a well-known traditional restaurant, the kind everyone had heard of. The presentation was just as impressive as its reputation. Every dish was so beautifully arranged that I hesitated to eat it.

But the real problem wasn’t the aesthetics—it was the fact that I was having dinner alone with Taejoon.

Could a meal get any more solemn than this?

Taejoon, who seemed to have invisible glue sealing his lips, hadn’t said a word since we started eating.

He sat at one end of the long rectangular table, and I was positioned at the perpendicular side. His gaze remained locked on me, unwavering.

“…Aren’t you eating?”

“I am.”

“But your plate is untouched.”

“Eat.”

“…Okay.”

I finally understood what people meant when they said they couldn’t tell if food was going into their mouth or their nose.

The suffocating atmosphere was making me anxious, and I had the sinking feeling I might choke if I wasn’t careful.

Just as I set my chopsticks down to rub my chest, I made the mistake of locking eyes with Taejoon.

I quickly picked them back up and stuffed another bite into my mouth.

If this was how it was going to be, why did he insist on eating together?

I grabbed something—anything—and put it in my mouth.

“This kimchi is amazing!”

Taejoon’s expression turned even more serious.

“…Why are you looking at me like that? Oh.”

What I had just eaten was bulgogi, rich with a deep charcoal-grilled aroma. The sweet and savory flavors were perfectly balanced, and the tender meat practically melted in my mouth.

“That was bulgogi, not kimchi….”

“…Do you have a problem with your taste buds? Or maybe a cognitive issue?”

Taejoon looked like he was about to check my temperature, so I instinctively leaned back.

“I-It’s delicious. Really delicious.”

His sharp gaze remained locked onto me, scrutinizing me as if I were some kind of anomaly.

“…You seem healthy.”

I was, but at this rate, I’d end up sick from indigestion.

The only sounds filling the room now were the quiet clinks of utensils against plates and the soft chewing and swallowing of food.

“Do you not like Korean food?”

“I love it.”

“You don’t seem like it.”

“…That’s not it.”

I decided to just be honest.

“It’s because you keep staring at me. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Me?”

Taejoon looked genuinely surprised, as if the thought had never occurred to him. He cleared his throat awkwardly and gave a small, stiff smile.

“…Just eat. If you keep talking, the food will get cold.”

He placed a piece of steamed abalone onto my plate and nodded. The shell had already been removed, making it easy to pick up.

“How do you feel about seafood?”

“I like it.”

I wasn’t great with raw seafood, but I loved grilled eel, buttered shrimp, and steamed abalone.

I picked up the abalone and placed it in my mouth, chewing slowly. A faint scent of rice wine lingered on the soft, chewy texture.

“It’s really good….”

I wasn’t just saying it—it truly was. The seasoning was perfect, and there was no fishy taste at all.

“Good.”

For the first time that evening, Taejoon’s expression softened. The moment I finished swallowing, he placed another dish in front of me.

“Try this too.”

Like a mother bird feeding its chick, he kept adding food to my plate, giving me no time to pause.

“What was that one?”

“Eel.”

“And before that?”

“Abalone?”

Taejoon still seemed hung up on my earlier mix-up between bulgogi and kimchi. His serious expression made me chuckle.

That’s when I noticed—his right arm was still in a cast. Eating must have been inconvenient.

“Do you need help? Your arm looks uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.”

With that, Taejoon finally started eating.

As he slowly chewed, he looked up and asked, “Do you drink?”

“Of course.”

“What about wine?”

“I haven’t really had it, but I think I could handle it.”

I had tried a wine sample once at a grocery store, but it wasn’t to my taste, so I never drank it again. But for some reason, tonight, I wanted to try it.

“Wait here.”

Taejoon got up and returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Give it to me,” I quickly said, standing up to take them from him.

I set the wine on the table and grabbed the opener. As I peeled off the seal, I asked, “I take this part off first, right?”

Taejoon nodded and made a twisting motion with his fingers.

“Press down as you turn it.”

“L-Like this?”

With a pop, the cork came loose, making a crisp, refreshing sound.

I exhaled softly. Was it because of the subtle intensity in his voice? Or was it the scent of the wine already making me lightheaded?

Or maybe it was just the warmth creeping up my neck for no reason.

“I’ll pour.”

Taejoon picked up the bottle and poured the deep red liquid into my glass.

“Try it.”

I took a sip, letting the tart, fruity aroma spread across my tongue. I took another sip, feeling the floral notes bloom as the wine coated my throat.

“When I tasted wine at the store before, it wasn’t like this. It was much sweeter.”

“Want me to get a different one?”

“No! This is better.”

At my quick response, Taejoon’s expression relaxed.

Outside, the city lights shimmered against the dark sky.

“Let’s toast.”

The sound of our glasses clinking rang out like a soft chime.

As the atmosphere lightened, I started talking about how I had been spending my time alone at home.

Taejoon, with his usual impassive expression, didn’t seem particularly engaged in the conversation, but I didn’t mind. Just having someone to talk to after so long felt nice.

“Oh, let me do it.”

Taejoon, using only one hand, was trying to open a small fish-shaped soy sauce bottle.

I reached over, holding the cap while he gripped the body. But the moment I twisted it open—

Splat.

A stream of soy sauce shot out from the bottle’s mouth.

“Oh.”

Taejoon must have accidentally squeezed it too hard.

Soy sauce splattered onto my face and shirt, leaving a mess.

“Damn.”

Taejoon immediately stood up and grabbed some wet wipes.

“Just give them to me. I’ll clean it up.”

The stinging sensation in my eye told me I needed to rinse it off in the bathroom.

I started to step back, but before I could—

Taejoon leaned in, closing the distance between us.

Then, gently, his thumb brushed against my lower lip.

A soft, fleeting touch.

His finger lingered for just a second before pulling away.

“You got some here, too.”

Support