A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive - Chapter 94

It was a question I had been asked multiple times since I found myself in this body.

“Hyun Wookyung, are you a cop?”

And every single time, I had denied it with the most indignant expression I could muster.

It had been my last line of defense, my only means of avoiding a horrific death.

If only I could do the same now…

But even my self-delusion, “I’m actually an idol, not a cop”, had crumbled away, leaving my mind completely blank.

The phone in Choi Taejoon’s hand was undeniable evidence that I had been in contact with the police. And just moments ago, he had caught me and Team Leader Baek meeting in his own home.

I wasn’t the type to shamelessly lie to someone who already knew the truth.

I couldn’t bring myself to mock him with another lie.

There was only one answer I could give.

All that was left was to find the courage to say it.

At that moment, Taejoon’s calm yet firm voice jolted me from my thoughts.

“Hyun Wookyung. I asked you a question.”

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

At the heart of my hesitation was him.

Now that the truth had been exposed, I didn’t want to deceive him any further.

Yet, I also feared how much this would hurt him.

Then there was my own resolve—the one I had made earlier. I wouldn’t let things unfold the way Team Leader Baek wanted.

I clenched my trembling fingers into fists and forced myself to meet Taejoon’s eyes.

“I… I…”

The moment I spoke, Taejoon’s eyes wavered with emotion.

A crushing weight settled in his gaze, trapping me.

His piercing stare was suffocating, and I reflexively lowered my head.

“……”

I found myself staring at his hands, stark white from gripping too tightly.

I forced myself to look up again.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Taejoon’s face had gone deathly pale.

I forced strength into my voice.

“I….”

I had made up my mind to tell him the truth.

But the next words wouldn’t come out.

I inhaled sharply once, twice—then a third time before finally forcing the words from my lips.

“The truth is, I… I’m a cop—”

Before I could finish, Taejoon’s hand clamped over my mouth.

His large, ice-cold palm covered nearly half my face.

And then, in a voice that had lost all its composure, he cut me off.

“J-just wait.”

I stared up at him with wide eyes.

His furrowed brow was deeply creased, and his shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“…Wait a second.”

His words came out sluggishly, as if he wasn’t sure if he was speaking to me or himself.

His voice, tangled with a mess of emotions, sounded dangerously fragile—almost sorrowful.

“Ah…”

Everything about him in that moment felt unfamiliar, and before I realized it, my hand moved on its own, pressing over his.

Taejoon lifted his head and looked at me.

For a fleeting second, my heart clenched painfully.

His desperate gaze was unbearable.

He wasn’t clinging, he wasn’t begging—yet his silent plea was overwhelming.

“Don’t say it.”

He was telling me—begging me—with his entire being not to say it.

That he didn’t want to hear it.

That he didn’t want to know.

Only then did I realize what it was that Taejoon had truly wanted to hear from me.

Slowly, I nodded.

At last, his hand withdrew from my face.

It almost felt like he had asked me for a favor.

Or maybe he had apologized.

Or maybe I had.

I whispered each word carefully, deliberately. Then, I looked down at the phone in his hand.

Taejoon’s Adam’s apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed.

Then, with a long sigh, he tossed the phone into the trash.

Forcing a hollow smile, he looked at me.

“So, your father came by?”

“…….”

I had no idea how to respond.

“How long has it been since you last saw him?”

“I… I don’t know.”

His thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping away something warm.

“Then why are you crying?”

“…Am I?”

I blinked rapidly, startled.

As my eyelids fluttered, tears trickled down at the same pace.

“…I think… I think something’s wrong with me right now.”

“It’s fine.”

Taejoon exhaled a quiet laugh.

“I always thought something was off about you since the first time I met you. You’ve been weird from the start.”

His words were absurdly serious—too serious to be a joke—yet by the end, one corner of his lips lifted into a faint smirk.

“Hah. When did I ever act weird?”

“Think about it. You asked me if this was a hidden camera prank the first time we met. That’s not normal.”

“Oh.”

That first morning we met.

“You remember that?”

Taejoon nodded slowly.

Everything about us—our past, our present, and whatever lay ahead—felt vague and uncertain.

But one thing was crystal clear.

The words Taejoon had repeated to me so many times before—”I don’t care what you are, Hyun Wookyung.”

He had meant them.

Of all the sides of Choi Taejoon I had seen, this was the most genuine.

Something in him had shifted.

For whatever reason, he had decided to bury the truth.

Even if he now knew that I was a cop.

As for what lay ahead, what I was supposed to do next—I decided to set those thoughts aside, just for now.

I wiped my tear-streaked cheeks with my forearm before looking straight at Choi Taejoon again.

“If I were a cop… what would you have done?”

“If you were a cop?”

Taejoon spoke slowly, his face devoid of any humor.

“I’d kill you in the most excruciating way possible, make sure you suffered more than anyone else, then stuff your body somewhere and dump it in the ocean.”

He wasn’t just saying that.

I knew he meant it.

Even as he spoke, he reached for my nape and pulled me into his arms.

Tightly.

Once again, he locked me within his embrace, pressing me firmly against his chest.

The room spun.

If he hadn’t been holding me, I might have collapsed on the spot.

Neither of us said anything for a long while.

We both needed time to process our tangled emotions.

“It’s raining.”

“…Rain?”

“A storm. Thunder and lightning, too.”

I barely lifted my eyelids and glanced toward the window.

Not a drop of rain.

The sky was clear, and the stars twinkled brightly.

“You said you can’t sleep alone on rainy nights.”

“Ah…”

“Stay in my room tonight.”

As if trying to quiet his own unease, Taejoon tightened his arms around me.

Taejoon sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, watching Wookyung as he slept.

His head had lolled to the side, exposing the pale line of his throat.

His skin was so thin that the blue veins beneath were clearly visible.

Carefully, Taejoon adjusted Wookyung’s head onto the pillow and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders.

A faint, feverish sigh escaped Wookyung’s lips.

“…….”

Sleeping so soundly, he looked peaceful.

Beautiful, even.

Taejoon found himself staring at him, entranced.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he covered his own face with his palm.

The heat surging through his body was suffocating.

Afraid of waking Wookyung, Taejoon cautiously slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

He filled the tub with ice-cold water and submerged himself, taking deep, steady breaths in an attempt to calm down.

But the deeper he tried to bury the heat, the more it clawed its way back up, tightening around his throat.

He twisted the faucet, letting more water flow in.

As the tub overflowed, he let his body slide under the surface, sinking fully, as if drowning.

His mouth was parched, yet he was submerged.

His body burned, yet he was surrounded by freezing water.

This was the worst.

This was truly, utterly the worst.

Even in the numbing chill, steam seemed to rise from his dry throat.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, Taejoon clenched his eyes shut.

Anger.

Pity.

A relentless, uncontrollable tenderness toward Wookyung that left him feeling unbearably weak.

“I’m a cop…!”

The moment those words had nearly escaped Wookyung’s lips, everything had become clear.

That was the end of it.

Or rather, it was when everything had fallen into place.

“Don’t say it. I can’t do this without you.”

He had screamed the words over and over in his mind, unable to voice them aloud.

As if waiting for his cue, Wookyung’s smiling face surfaced in his thoughts.

Taejoon wanted to smile back.

But his lips wouldn’t move.

Only when he was nearly gasping for air did he break the surface, coughing out a bitter, breathless laugh.

The mirror across from him reflected his distorted expression.

The man staring back at him looked at him with scorn.

No—he looked at him with condemnation.

Like he was demanding answers.

Furious, Taejoon slammed his hands into the water.

A violent splash sent half the water sloshing over the edge of the tub, spilling onto the floor.

This was insane.

The reflection in the mirror twisted into a smirk.

Mocking him.

Taejoon ran a frustrated hand through his wet hair, grabbing a towel as if trying to shake off the stubborn remnants of his own emotions.

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