A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive

Our family struggled financially, and instead of earning money, I was relying on my sister and aunt for support. I always had to live frugally, tightening my belt to get by.

“How much is this?”

I glanced at the price tag on a suit, and my mouth went dry.

The number looked like it had way too many zeros, and my casual outfit made me feel even more out of place among the other shoppers. I couldn’t shake the feeling that people were giving me strange looks.

Of course, Taejoon didn’t seem to care at all.

I nervously smoothed out my wrinkled t-shirt and whispered to Taejoon, “Did you see that? One suit costs as much as 626 bowls of jajangmyeon!”

“You like jajangmyeon?”

“Of course! But that’s not the point. For that price, you could eat jajangmyeon every day for two years. And you’re spending it on one suit…”

Before I could finish, a store employee approached Taejoon and greeted him politely.

“We’ve been expecting you, sir.”

Taejoon gave a small nod and sat down on a sofa. “Show him something that will suit him.”

The employee nodded and led me to the fitting room. A few minutes later, they brought in suits perfectly tailored to my measurements.

The clothes fit like they were custom-made just for me.

Standing in front of Taejoon, I scratched my head awkwardly. His eyes, which had been fixed on his phone, slowly lifted to meet mine. His expression was unreadable, and his lips pressed into a thin line, making me wonder if he was annoyed. If he was, I thought, it wouldn’t be so bad—it might save me from this awkward situation.

“Do you not like it?” I asked nervously. “If you don’t, I can just—”

As I reached to undo the buttons on the jacket, Taejoon’s calm voice stopped me.

“Don’t take it off.”

“Huh?”

His low, relaxed tone froze me in place.

“It looks decent. No, it looks really good on you.”

Leaning back lazily on the sofa, Taejoon made a small circular motion with his finger, signaling me to turn around.

I obediently turned to face the mirror and hesitated before speaking. “Honestly, I don’t think it suits me. Besides, you said it looks ‘decent,’ which just means it’s average.”

For a suit this expensive, “average” wasn’t enough. Even if it looked amazing, I’d still hesitate to buy it.

“What do you think?” Taejoon asked.

“Well…”

Every time I blinked, Taejoon’s expression seemed to shift. One moment he looked like a cold, intimidating gangster, then like the celebrity Do Hyun-tae, and then like the enigmatic man who’d stared down at me in the bedroom.

I pressed my fingers against my eyelids and turned to face him directly.

“……”

Taejoon was lounging on the armrest of the sofa, watching me like he was admiring a work of art in a gallery. His gaze was so intense, it felt like it was drilling into me, making my heart thud uncomfortably.

When our eyes met, he seemed to snap out of it and spoke to the clerk while still keeping his eyes on me.

“Let’s look at a few more suits. Add some ties, shirts, and shoes, too.”

“Wait! Hold on a second!”

My voice came out louder than I intended, and Taejoon glanced at me with a calm but questioning look.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like it?”

“I… I really don’t have any money.”

“And?”

“I might not be able to pay you back.”

If something happened to me, I’d disappear with this massive debt. Was that okay?

“…You’ll find a way to pay it back,” Taejoon said with a chilling expression before handing his card to the clerk.

The way he said it—“You’ll find a way”—sent shivers down my spine. Most people would’ve said that casually, but when Taejoon said it, it felt like a threat.

Wait. Could this be about… organ trafficking?

For a moment, I could’ve sworn Taejoon was staring at my stomach. If I had anything valuable, it was probably my organs. Was this his plan all along? To take what I couldn’t pay back in cash?

I couldn’t shake the feeling that, if I failed to repay him, he’d take something from me—literally. Watching the employees hang the newly selected suits, I instinctively took a step back.

“Actually, I don’t want to buy anything. Please, just let me go.”

“Stop talking nonsense.”

Lowering my voice to a whisper, I pleaded, “Please, not my organs.”

“What?”

“If you’re going to kill me, at least leave me intact. Don’t touch my organs.”

Taejoon stared at me like I’d grown a second head before sighing and running a hand over his face.

“That’s… an interesting idea. Fine. Consider this your ‘organ payment.’ Just wear the clothes.”

“Ah…”

Of course, Taejoon ignored everything I said.

By the time we left the store, I had multiple suits, casual outfits, ties, shoes, and even sneakers. It felt like a full-blown shopping spree, and I had no choice but to go along with it.

As we got back in the car, Taejoon glanced at me briefly before starting the engine.

“Why aren’t you wearing your seatbelt?”

I hesitated. “I just… I feel like I can’t wear these clothes. I should just leave them untouched. They’re too much.”

“Why?”

“They’re expensive, way out of my league, and I don’t even want to think about how much all this costs…”

Spending so much money on clothes and shoes, which I considered the least cost-effective things to buy, was beyond me.

In a calm voice, Taejoon asked, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Doing what?”

“Do you really think I expect you to pay me back? Do you honestly believe I’d sell your organs?”

“You mean… you’re giving me all this? For free?”

I clapped my hands over my mouth, realizing how ridiculous I sounded.

Wait, could this be a cliché?

In stories, the wealthy love interest often spoiled their partner with expensive gifts, fancy restaurants, and then… well, the expectations afterward were pretty obvious.

No, that couldn’t be it. Could it?

Taejoon glanced at my face, probably realizing I was overthinking things again, and sighed.

“Just put on your seatbelt.”

Once I buckled up, Taejoon finally started the car.

Staring out the window, I couldn’t help but think about the shopping scene from the original story.

In the original, Taejoon had taken Park Ha-hyun shopping, but the atmosphere had been completely different. Ha-hyun had spent the entire time trying to hide his bruises and scars. His frail body made it hard to find clothes that fit properly.

And Taejoon, cold and cruel, had seemed to enjoy Ha-hyun’s humiliation, as if that had been his goal all along.

Thinking about the original story suddenly made me feel strangely solemn.

For a while, neither Taejoon nor I said a word.

He focused on driving in silence, and I quietly stared out the window. I tried to keep still, as if I wasn’t even there, blending into the silence.

But I was so hungry.

As if it wasn’t awkward enough, my stomach decided to betray me, rumbling loudly over and over.

At first, it sounded like soft bubbles popping, but soon the noises became longer and more distracting.

I pressed my hands against my stomach and tried to control my breathing, but it was no use.

“Why is it so noisy?” Taejoon finally said.

“…I’m hungry,” I admitted.

His eyes slid over to me briefly before I could even finish speaking. Almost on cue, my stomach let out the loudest growl yet, practically vibrating through the car. Taejoon, his expression unreadable, simply said, “Alright. Let’s stop somewhere to eat.”

The car climbed up a winding forest road until we arrived at a quiet café where you could have a simple meal with tea.

“I thought you were busy,” I said.

“I can spare the time to feed you.”

He said “feed you,” not “eat with you,” which made me wonder—was he not hungry?

Still, the cool air conditioning chased away the damp, sticky feeling in my chest, and more importantly, the menu made me smile.

A sandwich stuffed with a crispy pork cutlet and strawberry jam was placed in front of me.

The fluffy bread and golden-brown cutlet looked so delicious I couldn’t stop myself from salivating.

“This is my favorite sandwich! How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Taejoon replied flatly. “Just eat.”

His eyes seemed to say, Stop talking and focus on eating. I obediently took a big bite. The combination of juicy pork, sweet strawberry jam, tangy brown sauce, and soft bread was perfect.

“Do you want some, Director?” I asked.

“No.”

He watched me curiously as I stuffed my cheeks full like a chipmunk.

Calling over a passing staff member, Taejoon pointed at me and said, “Bring another one.”

I grinned and nodded enthusiastically. “Hehe, should I?”

Licking the sauce off my fingers, I realized something odd—neither in the original story nor in real life had I ever seen Taejoon eat. He was always drinking water, strong alcohol, coffee, or smoking, but never actually eating anything. It was strange to imagine someone surviving like that.

“Director, can I ask you something?”

Taejoon looked at me directly, waiting.

“Have you ever eaten something like… soup? Like gukbap?”

“…Gukbap?”

“Yes! Things like seolleongtang, spicy bone stew, or blood sausage soup?”

It was hard to imagine someone like Taejoon scooping up seolleongtang with kimchi radish water mixed in, but I had always been curious. His face turned serious as he replied, “I’ve eaten it. Don’t particularly like it. Why?”

“Oh, so you’ve tried it! What about sundae gukbap?”

Sundae gukbap was my favorite, so I couldn’t help but wonder. My heart raced slightly in anticipation of his answer.

But before Taejoon could respond, his phone buzzed again, and his brow furrowed as he read the messages.

“If you’re busy, should we leave?” I asked.

He made a brief call, saying only, “Got it,” before hanging up.

“We can pack this to-go,” Taejoon said.

“Okay. Should I—”

“Stop talking and eat.”

“Yes, sir.”

In the silence that followed, I quietly stuffed the sandwich into my mouth, occasionally sneaking glances at Taejoon’s expression.

Ever since the luxury shopping trip and now this meal, there was something I’d been wanting to ask him.

“If you have something to say, just say it,” Taejoon said, cutting through my hesitation. “Stop circling around it.”

It didn’t seem like the best timing, but maybe now was the right moment.

This was something I had to confirm, no matter how awkward or embarrassing it was.

“So, uh…” I trailed off, meeting Taejoon’s unreadable gaze.

“Go on,” he said, as if daring me.

“Well… since you’re going to kill me anyway, you’ve given me a house, bought me clothes, and now you’re even feeding me. I was thinking about what you might want in return.”

“If this is about organ trafficking again, stop,” he interrupted, rubbing his temples.

“No, it’s not that! Just, um, please don’t laugh or get angry. I’ve really been thinking this through.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t listen to this. Don’t say it.”

“…Okay.”

I clamped my mouth shut. If he didn’t want me to say it, I wouldn’t.

As I sat there in silence, Taejoon looked up from his phone and glanced at me.

“Say it.”

“Uh… right. So, I feel like you might… want something from me.”

Leaning closer to the table, I hesitated before continuing.

“Want something? Like what?” Taejoon raised an eyebrow.

“Well… it’s kind of… um, adult. Not emotional, but more of a physical… body-to-body kind of connection. You know, like—”

“What?”

Taejoon’s hand, holding a coffee cup, trembled slightly. His smooth, porcelain-like face was clearly flustered.