A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive

“Not XHD00BB, it’s XHD09BF, PD-nim.”

The music show producer’s face twisted into a grimace.

“Is that supposed to be someone’s Wi-Fi password?”

“Haha, you’ve got a great sense of humor!”

With a name so obscure no one could tell if it referred to an idol group or a random string of letters, and a level of recognition so low even the number of members was a mystery, we hadn’t set foot on a music show stage since our debut year.

Afterward, we released a single album, but it fizzled out without any notable reaction. Time passed, and we were left with no results to show for it.

Before I knew it, I had become “the sub-vocalist of a failed idol group” — a position long forgotten by the public even before they could properly remember it.

Lying in bed, it had become my daily ritual — my only source of joy — to search my name online as if jotting down entries in a diary.

Scrolling through the search results, I’d greet the various “Hyun Woo Kyungs” of the world — professors, politicians, athletes — as if exchanging polite nods, flipping through the pages until…

“Huh?”

There it was, my actual name, Hyun Woo Kyung, unadorned by any modifiers.

Not as a famous streamer, a professor, or anyone else notable. Just Hyun Woo Kyung.

Could this be thanks to the minor role I played in a recently aired drama? Had it somehow brought me into the spotlight?

“What if Hyun Woo Kyung hadn’t died?”
Anonymous | 22:15 | Views: 5,378

Wait… died? What was this? I quickly clicked on the post, a wry smile forming as I noticed its view count exceeded that of the videos uploaded by my agency.

Free Board

What if Hyun Woo Kyung hadn’t died?
???? Author: Anonymous14345 | 22:15 | Views: 5,379

What do you think would’ve happened if Hyun Woo Kyung survived until the end of Alcohol Swab instead of dying?

It seemed the novel’s character had the same name as me, and that’s why it had appeared in the search results.

“What the heck? I thought this was about me.”

Alcohol Swab was a BL novel infamous among long-time fans of tragic stories for its devastatingly sad ending.

“So it’s a BL story, huh.”

Thanks to my late parents and the aunts and sisters who raised me, I had grown up seeing BL as just another genre, like mystery or martial arts. It wasn’t unfamiliar to me.

Now that I thought about it, I vaguely remembered seeing the title Alcohol Swab on the bookshelf in my older sister’s room.

I began scrolling through the comments.

Comments (35)

└ Isn’t there a male idol named Hyun Woo Kyung?
└└ You mean model Hyun Woo Kyum?
└└└ Nope, there’s a female idol named Woo Kyung, lol.

“Ha… Yeah, I know all about them too. Woo Kyung, Woo Kyum… Whatever.”

My brief excitement about the post being about me quickly faded as the comments derailed into unrelated tangents, eventually looping back to the novel.

└ If Hyun Woo Kyung hadn’t died back then, Park Ha Hyun probably would have.
└└ True. The whole ‘everybody dies together’ ending.
└ Alcohol Swab is ancient history, lol. Is it some kind of folklore now?

What started as detached curiosity morphed into genuine intrigue about the novel as I read through the comments.

What kind of story was this? And who exactly was the Hyun Woo Kyung in the story?

The author’s name also felt oddly familiar. I remembered reading another novel by them years ago.

And that’s how I ended up diving into the BL novel Alcohol Swab.

At first, I only planned to skim through the parts where my name appeared. But before I knew it, I was completely hooked.

The scene where Hyun Woo Kyung dies was especially gripping.

“They killed him off this brutally? So cruel… You even shared a bed last night, and now this? Jerk.”

The sub-bottom, Hyun Woo Kyung, is killed just before the main bottom’s appearance. When it’s revealed that he was an informant for the police, he’s stuffed into a cement barrel and thrown into the sea.

“Even here, I’m just a sub.”

Maybe it was because his life as a “supporting character” mirrored mine, but I couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy as I continued reading.

Choi Taejoon, you piece of trash. Let’s see how great your life is after killing Hyun Woo Kyung.

However, the more I read, the more I found myself captivated. My anger at the unfairness of it all gave way to an obsession with the story — and with Choi Taejoon, the main character.

“He’s like actor Do Hyuntae…”

Everything about Choi Taejoon — his mannerisms, looks, and personality — reminded me of Do Hyuntae, my long-time celebrity crush.

In fact, Do Hyuntae was the reason I dreamed of becoming an idol in the first place. Even as a member of a failed idol group, his influence had kept me going.

I had once officially crossed paths with him when I landed a minor role in an OTT drama. Honestly, I was more thrilled about meeting him than about getting the role.

Unofficially, though, I’d met him back when I was a high schooler — but of course, he didn’t remember me.

“This author… Why do they kill everyone?! Don’t tell me Choi Taejoon dies too!”

Sure enough, when Choi Taejoon sacrifices himself for the main bottom at the end, I gripped my phone so hard I thought it might break.

“Don’t go there! You’ll die if you go! Choi Taejoon! Ah, this is a disaster.”

He died. My Choi Taejoon died.

Having read all the way to the end, I collapsed onto my bed in a daze.

It was a masterpiece that transcended genres, ending in a perfect tragic finale. It felt like I had just watched a painfully bitter noir film. The words on the page seemed to unfold vividly before my eyes.

After lying there in the lingering aftereffects of the story for a long time, I went back to the prologue.

I missed those times when everyone was happy—or at least the times when Choi Taejoon was alive and breathing.

I desperately wanted to see Choi Taejoon again.

And so, I returned to the beginning, rereading the story over and over again. For the next few days, whenever I had a spare moment, I’d open the novel app to meet Choi Taejoon once more.

As always, I was reading Alcohol Swab when I fell asleep.

By now, the opening lines were so familiar that I could practically recite them by heart.

“When I finally understood the loneliness he carried, it was too late—he was no longer by my side.
On days like today, when I just want to retreat into silence, I think of Choi Taejoon.
He was like a riverbank weighed down with sorrow, a dark dawn, and a dry winter sky.”

It was around the time the dim light of dawn seeped through the old blinds in my room.

My heavy eyelids fluttered briefly before closing again. I thought I had dozed off, but when I came to my senses, I was lying on an unfamiliar bed.

Next to me was a man I had never seen before. My eyes widened in shock, but only for a moment.

…What is this? A dream? It must be a dream.

Pulling the warm blanket closer, I closed my eyes again.

Even if it’s a dream, isn’t it a bit much to share a bed with a stranger? This is ridiculous.

But the sensations were far too vivid to be a dream—especially the pain. The throbbing ache coursing through my body made it difficult to stay still.

My head pounded, my shoulders burned, and my feet stung as if they had been cut on glass.

Unable to sleep any longer, I opened my eyes again, only to realize the pain was all too real.

“…What? What is this?”

I bolted upright.

My hands were covered in cracked wounds, and my entire body—from my forehead to the soles of my feet, thighs, and calves—was riddled with injuries.

The soles of my feet, which had felt like they were stepping on glass shards, were bleeding from deep cuts. There wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t hurt.

I got out of bed and cautiously looked around the room. The dim lighting made it hard to see clearly, but it appeared to be a hotel room.

“How much did Kang Executive pay you? Don’t do that anymore.”

I turned toward the voice.

The man was sitting with his back to the light filtering through the blinds.

Because of the backlighting, I couldn’t make out his face clearly, but there was something eerily familiar about him. He looked exactly like… him.

The man spoke in a low, chilly tone, as if emphasizing his words.

“You’ll end up dead if you keep this up.”

I held my breath, trying to process what he was saying.

“Fire.”

“…Fire?”

“Yes. Fire.”

Strangely, the way he spoke felt familiar, like I had heard those words before. Almost as if they were lines straight out of the novel Alcohol Swab, spoken by none other than Choi Taejoon.

As I struggled to wrap my head around it, the man rose from the bed.

He moved toward the vanity behind me, his large frame looming as he reached for a lighter. The cold air around him made me involuntarily shrink back.

Can dreams really feel this vivid?

Click.

The man lit the lighter and brought it to the cigarette between his lips.

Through the haze of lazily curling smoke, his face came into view—eerily similar to Do Hyuntae, my longtime celebrity crush.

But also…

His sharp, piercing gaze, thick eyebrows, and the faint scar running along his left eye perfectly matched the description of Choi Taejoon from Alcohol Swab.

“He looks just like him.”

The man’s lips curved slightly as he held the cigarette, a faint smile forming on his face—just as I had imagined when reading the novel.

Before I realized it, I muttered his name.

“Choi Taejoon?”

The man narrowed his sleepy yet sharp eyes at me.

“….”

“Uh, uh…!”

His large, rough hand shot out and grabbed my neck, gripping it tightly.

“Don’t get cocky.”

I couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t a dream. This was real. It was as if the Choi Taejoon I had imagined had materialized right in front of me.

The fingers digging into my neck felt so merciless and unrelenting that it seemed like they could snap my neck at any moment.

I was going to die. This was how I would die.

“P-Please… I can’t… breathe…!”

“Is this what Kang Executive taught you?”

The veins under his hand throbbed painfully, making my heart race as if it were about to explode. I might really die here.

“I-I don’t know who Kang Executive is. P-Please let me go…”

“…You don’t know?”

The man scanned me coldly before blowing out a puff of smoke, his expression indifferent.

“I don’t know! I mean, I know Kang Deputy… He was our manager…”

“So you know I’m Choi Taejoon, but not Kang Executive?”

The moment his scarred fingers slackened slightly, I thought about how fragile my life felt in his grip. Then, the corners of his lips curled into a mocking smile.

“Kang Executive, huh? You don’t know?”

“Please, let me go! Just let me—!”

Before I could finish, something warm pressed against my lips.

It was the cigarette he had been holding, shoved roughly into my mouth.

The acrid smoke and the man’s cold aura mixed together, filling my throat.

The bitter taste of the cigarette, his piercing gaze, the tears running down my face, and the suffocating grip on my neck—

None of it was a dream. This wasn’t an illusion.

And suddenly, I knew what he was about to say next.

“Begging for your life? I already saved you once.”

“I already saved you once.”

Choi Taejoon’s smooth lips quirked into a smirk. Through the dissipating smoke, his face began to blur.

And if my memory was correct, his next line would be—

“What’s your name?”

This scene and dialogue were exactly as they were in the novel. Was this some kind of hidden camera prank?

“Hy-Hyun Woo Kyung,” I stammered.

The man repeated my name under his breath, his gaze locking onto me.

If this really was Choi Taejoon, then that must mean I was the sub-bottom, Hyun Woo Kyung—the one who dies before the main bottom even appears.

And in that moment, something clicked in my mind.

“Ah! I almost fell for it!”

Right, this must be some elaborate prank! My manager must have set this up.

“Excuse me, sir… This is a hidden camera show, right?”