A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive - Chapter 46

 

“Of course, it’s not a hangover cure.”

“…Then what is it?”

Park Ha-hyun answered with an eerily blank expression.

“Illegal drugs. The kind that’ll ruin everything if we get caught. So, you have to retrieve them before they get tested.”

Illegal drugs?

But wasn’t he supposed to be a cop too?

I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached as I muttered under my breath.

“Why the hell are you carrying something like that? And why would you give it to me? What am I supposed to do with it?!”

“I didn’t expect you to get caught. You were supposed to sneak it into Choi Taejoon’s bag.”

I didn’t need to ask further to understand what was going on.

Their plan was simple: plant the banned substances in Taejoon’s luggage or clothing, then wait for airport security to find them during baggage inspection.

They probably intended to use it as an excuse to detain him for questioning—at least for a few days.

And they had planned for me to carry it out.

But now that Taejoon had taken the drugs, the entire plan was falling apart.

“If you find them, destroy them immediately.”

“…You really think that’s possible?”

I wanted to scream at him for being so reckless.

“How could you hand something so dangerous over like that?”

“Who told you to get caught? You should’ve swallowed them instead.”

I nearly had—but now, knowing how dangerous they were, I was horrified at what could’ve happened if I had.

“…What happens if you take them?”

“No idea. Want to finish your mission first? Then I’ll tell you.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

Ha-hyun simply flashed an unconcerned smile before turning on his heel and heading toward Song Seo-hee.

By the time I returned to the reception, the atmosphere had improved significantly.

It seemed both parties had come to a mutually satisfying agreement.

“I have to admit, I was surprised by how flexible Korean clients can be.”

Director Yoon’s comment was met with a round of agreement.

“Maybe the subscription model encouraged a more adaptable market.”

“Feels like a second-division team disrupting the major leagues.”

“What do you think, Director Choi?”

All eyes turned to Taejoon.

He smirked, lifting his glass.

“Well, considering CI Plus is more of a corporate giant, I wouldn’t call it second-division.”

Laughter rippled through the table at his subtle flattery.

“In that case, maybe we’re more like mercenaries than a second-division team.”

Director Yoon chuckled before letting out a sigh.

“But as you said, even a giant corporation struggles if it can’t secure enough resources. Look at us now—actors without a director.”

“That’s something I’ll personally resolve.”

That meant he would use unofficial channels—pressure, bribery, coercion.

Whatever it took.

Yoon’s lips curled into a knowing smile.

“I’ll trust you with it, Director Choi.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, alcohol fueling lively discussions.

But I couldn’t focus on anything.

My mind was fixated on the pills inside Taejoon’s jacket pocket.

Everyone else at the table had removed their jackets, sitting comfortably in just their dress shirts.

Taejoon was the only one still fully dressed—jacket buttoned, tie perfectly in place.

How the hell was I supposed to retrieve the drugs without making it obvious?

And even if I did—he’d know it was me.

I needed a way to take them back without raising suspicion.

As I debated my options, Taejoon casually lit a cigarette and turned to me, eyebrows slightly raised as if noticing something.

Then, he pointed at my face.

“What’s with you?”

It took me a second to realize what he meant.

I reached up and felt a warm trickle under my nose.

“…Ah. Nosebleed.”

“Nosebleed?”

It must’ve started after I punched myself earlier, bursting a vessel.

I had stuffed tissues up both nostrils to stop it, but it just wouldn’t quit.

“I think I hit myself too hard.”

Heat rushed to my face in embarrassment.

How humiliating.

I had literally punched myself so hard I got a nosebleed.

At first, Taejoon looked surprised, his eyes widening slightly.

Then, amusement flickered across his face.

His lips curled around his cigarette, revealing a flash of white teeth.

I turned away immediately, unwilling to see his reaction.

“Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Show me.”

“You’ve never seen a nosebleed before?”

“Never.”

“Liar.”

On stage, Director Yoon and Song Seo-hee had started a duet.

Taejoon ignored them, instead reaching for me again.

“Let me see.”

I sighed and reluctantly pulled the tissues from my nostrils, turning back with an awkward expression.

Choi Taejoon’s eyebrow twitched slightly.

Yeah. You think this is ridiculous?

I think this is ridiculous.

His expression practically screamed: “This isn’t just stupidity—I’ve never seen someone punch themselves in the face hard enough to get a nosebleed before.”

If he was going to react like this, he might as well just laugh already.

The way he struggled to hold back his amusement was even more infuriating.

“Stop staring.”

“Hold still.”

I tried to turn my head, but Taejoon narrowed one eye as if he were inspecting a work of art.

“Your nostrils are uneven.”

At that, Kim—who had been silently listening—jerked slightly.

“…My nose is asymmetrical?”

“Yeah. The left nostril’s smaller now.”

That did it.

Kim let out an uncontrollable snort—a weird, muffled sound—before coughing violently to suppress his laughter.

He grabbed his glass and took a sip, but at this rate, I was worried he’d choke on it.

Maybe Kim’s a little drunk too. It’s fine, just laugh out loud.

“It’s just swollen! It’ll go down soon—”

I was trying to laugh it off, but at that moment, I felt something warm trickle down my upper lip.

“…Huh?”

Perfect timing.

The blood that had pooled inside my nose suddenly gushed out.

I didn’t even see Ha-hyun get up, but when I turned, he was already standing, eyes wide in shock.

Meanwhile, Taejoon’s cigarette slipped from his lips, dropping onto the sofa.

I couldn’t see my own face, but judging by their reactions…

Yeah, this must look pretty bad.

“…Oh.”

I wiped my palm across my face and, sure enough, my hand came away completely covered in blood.

“Haha… What’s going on?”

I moved to wipe it away again, but Taejoon grabbed my wrist.

“Stop. Hold still.”

Even though I kept insisting I was fine, seeing that much blood must have thrown him off.

For the first time, he actually looked flustered—his gaze darting around the room as if looking for something.

“Are you dizzy?”

“…A little.”

Without hesitation, Taejoon reached into the ice bucket, wrapped a few ice cubes in his handkerchief, and pressed it into my palm.

“Here. Hold this.”

“Oh.”

The ice had already started melting, dampening the fabric.

Without waiting for a response, Taejoon turned to Kim.

“Handle the rest.”

He didn’t need to explain.

It was clear he was leaving the rest of the reception to Kim and taking me elsewhere.

Without even acknowledging Kim’s reply, Taejoon grabbed my arm and walked off.

The security team leader, who had been waiting outside the room, blinked in surprise.

“Director Choi—”

“You’re done for the night. Go home.”

“…Pardon?”

The abrupt dismissal caught him off guard.

He quickly followed after us, but Taejoon simply waved a hand, signaling for him to stay back before stepping into the elevator.

“Go rest.”

“…Understood.”

The security lead hesitated for a moment before deciding it was best not to argue.

Meanwhile, I hesitated at the entrance of the elevator.

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to step in.

Something about the atmosphere inside felt entirely different from the world outside.

“Get in.”

‘You have to retrieve the pills. You cannot let them be tested.’

Maybe… this was my chance.

The only chance I’d get.

By tomorrow morning, Taejoon would hand the container over to Kim, who would immediately send it for testing.

Once that happened, it was over.

This was the only time I had to get it back.

I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

At the exact same moment, I swore I saw Taejoon take a breath too.

He pressed a button on the panel.

“What floor?”

“…9th.”

As soon as he hit 9, I canceled it from my side and pressed 13 instead.

Taejoon turned his head, his gaze questioning.

“…Why?”

“Let’s go to the 13th floor instead.”

A brief silence followed.

It looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn’t argue.

The 13th floor.

That was his floor.

Judging by the atmosphere, he had planned to drop me off at my room and leave.

But if that happened, I wouldn’t get another chance to retrieve the pills.

If I could just get into his room instead, it would be easier to take them back.

Please. Let me in.

The elevator began its slow ascent.

Taejoon stood at the left end.

I stood on the right, hands clasped together.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

Even my swollen nasal passages pulsed with each beat, making the dull pain more noticeable.

The metallic tang of blood lingered in my mouth.

The only sound in the elevator was the clinking of half-melted ice cubes shifting in my hand.

The closer we got to the 13th floor, the louder the sound seemed to grow.

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Why wasn’t he asking why I changed the floor?

And the pills—shouldn’t he be questioning me about those too?

If I had gone that far to stop him from taking them, it was only natural for him to be suspicious.

But instead, he wasn’t questioning anything.

It was making me nervous.

Still, despite my racing thoughts, my eyes unconsciously followed his reflection in the elevator doors.

Not a perfect mirror, but enough to capture his silhouette.

The elongated reflection made his frame look even taller, his posture impossibly straight.

His shoulders, his arms—the entire outline of him stood out sharply against the distorted surface.

He looked less like a person and more like a figure from a painting.

“…Why are you standing like that?”

His voice broke through my thoughts.

“Huh?”

I blinked.

At some point, we had already arrived.

I stepped out before I even realized it, now standing in front of his door.

Halfway through stepping inside, Taejoon turned back, resting his hand against the open doorframe.

Then, he looked at me.

“…Come in.”