A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive

I tried to recall the original story.

Before Hyun Woo Kyung reunites with Choi Taejoon, he lives in a dorm with low-ranking members of Taeseong Industries.

But where exactly was this dorm?

I needed a place to eat and sleep, but all I had with me was a phone.

Just then, an old van screeched to a stop right in front of me.

“Hyun Woo Kyung!”

The van door flew open, almost breaking, and a big guy with a buzz cut waved at me.

“What are you waiting for? Get in, quick!”

“Me? Uh… me?”

“Yeah, you! Who else is standing here?”

“Ah… okay! I’m coming!”

Looking inside the van, I could tell these were the same people Hyun Woo Kyung shared the dorm with in the story. I climbed in, and before the door could close, the van sped off. While I was fumbling to find the seatbelt, one of the guys sat next to me and started talking.

“What happened to you? You look awful.”

It was the same guy who had waved at me earlier.

“You’re all beaten up.”

I awkwardly smiled while fastening my seatbelt.

“Where were you all night?”

“…I had some things to do.”

“Why are you talking so politely?”

I noticed the tattoo on his hand that read ‘Victory in every battle; no retreat.’ Oh, now I remembered him. This was Kim Minsu.

“We’re the same age. Don’t you remember we agreed to drop formalities?”

In the original story, Minsu cried a lot after Hyun Woo Kyung died. He was a good guy. I forced a smile and replied, “Yeah, sorry. I must’ve been tired. Didn’t sleep well. I’ll rest now.”

Minsu seemed satisfied and nodded before returning to his seat.

At least I had found a place to stay until… well, until I died.

Or so I thought.

“Hyun Woo Kyung! Get inside!”

Oh my god. Is this place even fit for humans?

The dorm, as described in the story, was a small, rundown villa with two rooms, an old air conditioner, and enough space for seven grown men.

But seeing it in real life? It was so much worse.

The moment I opened the door, the stench hit me—a mix of mold, rotting food, and sweat. It was unbearable.

Minsu, already inside, was tidying up some shoes. He turned to me, still frozen at the entrance, and waved.

“What are you doing? Come in!”

If I was going to be transported into a story, couldn’t it have been as someone cool?

A mysterious villain, a duke, an emperor, a martial arts master, or even a background character with hidden powers. There are so many better roles, even in BL stories!

But no, I had to end up as this guy. A character whose life wasn’t even a little better than my real one.

“…!”

My self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by a chill down my spine.

“What are you doing standing there? Move.”

I turned to see a massive man towering over me. He was much taller than everyone else, with muscles so big he looked like an inflated balloon.

“Hyung-nim. You’re back?”

“You’ve worked hard, sir.”

The other guys, who had been lounging around, immediately straightened up and bowed to him.

He glanced at my beaten-up face with a frown but said nothing. Instead, he walked into the living room and laid down in the center of the floor.

Minsu quickly set up a rickety fan at the man’s feet and then mouthed to me, “Hyun Woo Kyung, you know where the medicine box is, right? Go treat your wounds.”

“Medicine box? Where is it?”

That’s when I finally noticed the pain from my cuts and bruises. Right, these were the injuries I got from Kang Executive.

“It’s in the kitchen cabinet.”

The so-called “medicine box” only had some ointment and bandages, but I used what I could, carefully applying ointment and covering my wounds. As I worked, a sense of futility crept in.

Why am I even doing this? I’m not an idol anymore. It’s not like I’ll live long enough for it to matter.

After finishing, I went back to the living room. The other members were already asleep, sprawled out on the floor. Even Minsu had drifted off.

Since they usually worked at night, it seemed like all they did during the day was eat and sleep.

I found a spot in the corner and leaned against the wall. I tried to sleep, but the smell and the heat made it impossible.

I sat there, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I ended up in this mess.

The blurry world outside the veranda window screamed summer. Just days ago, it had been the dead of winter, but now it was a full-blown summer season. It hit me again—I really had been transported into this story.

And the fact that I had met the Choi Taejoon in person sent chills down my spine.

Sure, he’d probably try to kill me soon, with no mercy or hesitation. But as a fan, it felt surreal, like he had come back to life after dying in the novel.

I rubbed the back of my neck, where his hand had gripped me, and closed my eyes.

What did he look like again?

The author had described him as resembling a fallen leaf—pale and dry, like brittle tree bark that carried no trace of moisture. He looked lonely, even in his appearance.

Was that how he really looked?

I could only remember that he resembled the actor Do Hyuntae and that he was slightly less intimidating than I had imagined. The rest was a blur. But his voice—that I remembered clearly.

It was lower and drier than I had expected. The tone matched the author’s description perfectly.

Thinking about him made me shudder, and I rubbed my arms to shake off the goosebumps.

Still, what mattered to me now was figuring out how to die without too much pain.

I forced myself to sleep, hoping that when I woke up, this would all turn out to be a dream, and I’d find myself back in my bed at the dorm.

Crash!

I had never seen such chaos in my life. The floor was littered with shards of broken glass and debris, and a drunken man lay sprawled out, beaten but still alive.

“Thanks. Drinks are on me tonight!”

The bar owner smiled and grabbed one of the bulky guys by the arm.

“Of course. We appreciate it.”

Honestly, it made more sense to stay here for a while. Going back to the dorm would mean dealing with the unbearable heat anyway.

The lower ranks of the organization often handled incidents at bars, clubs, and karaoke spots like this. It wasn’t unusual for us to be called in to “resolve” things, especially by business owners who wanted to avoid getting the police involved.

Minsu had mentioned that the money from the organization wasn’t enough to live on, so jobs like this served as a decent side hustle.

Before I could process it all, we were seated, and drinks and snacks appeared on the table.

“Take your glass,” someone said.

I set down the ice pack I had been pressing to my swollen eye and accepted the glass.

“You okay?”

It felt like fire was burning through my right eye. I hadn’t seen a mirror yet, but I was sure my face looked terrible.

“Man, we thought your eye was going to pop. That crazy guy really went for it.”

Minsu, looking teary-eyed, chimed in.

“Seriously, Hyun Woo Kyung, thanks. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve been hurt. What were you even thinking, stepping in like that?”

I didn’t respond and instead drank the glass of alcohol in one go, smiling bitterly.

Life sure didn’t end easily.

Every morning, I hoped I’d wake up from this nightmare, back in my own bed. But no, it was always the same.

Over the past few days, I’d tried all kinds of ways to die.

At one point, I even searched for “painless ways to die,” but I couldn’t bring myself to go through with suicide.

Instead, I figured my role as a low-level gangster put me in enough danger. If I threw myself into risky situations, maybe I could die sooner.

“Hyung-nim, I have to say, I’ve gained a lot of respect for Hyun Woo Kyung. I thought he was just a lazy, useless guy, but wow.”

The group started praising me, talking about my efforts.

The strange part was that the more I tried to get myself killed, the more they seemed to trust and admire me.

“Hyun Woo Kyung really gives it his all, Hyung-nim,” Minsu joked.

Hyung-nim, without saying a word, patted me on the shoulder.

“Cheers!”

As the drinks kept flowing and everyone got drunker, I stood up, holding my head.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

The bar looked like something straight out of a drama or movie.

The floor was covered in red carpet, and waiters rushed in and out of private rooms.

In the novel, this was the kind of setting where Hyun Woo Kyung and Choi Taejoon would meet again.

But even after all the times I had been to bars and clubs over the past few days, I still hadn’t run into him.

Maybe the meeting at the hotel had messed up the story, or maybe time in the novel didn’t flow the way I thought it did. After all, the “time after that day” in the book wasn’t clearly defined—it could’ve been a day or a week.

As I washed my hands, I looked in the mirror. My right eye was horribly swollen, bruised, and bleeding. I must’ve been hurt worse than I thought.

“……”

Suddenly, I noticed a man in a deep cap reflected in the mirror.

“Oh, sorry,” I mumbled.

He was probably waiting to use the sink.

There were plenty of sinks, but for some reason, he stood right behind me. I quickly stepped aside to let him through.

The man said nothing, turned on the water, and began washing his hands.

When I had first entered the bathroom, I was alone. Now, there were four of us: the man in the cap, another guy standing guard near the door, someone who had just entered, and me.

What was going on?

Even though I felt dizzy from the alcohol, the atmosphere was tense.

When the man in the cap looked at me with cold, red eyes, I froze.

Who… who is that? Why is he so scary?

The man finished washing his hands and walked out as if nothing had happened.

The guy standing by the door hesitated for a moment, but then followed him out without saying anything.

“What was that about?” I muttered, exhaling deeply as I tried to calm myself down.

Then, I froze.

A deep, heavy voice sounded from behind me.

“Why does your face look like that?”

I turned around to see a tall figure looming over me.

The scar running along his left eye and the cigarette between his lips made him instantly recognizable.

“Choi Taejoon!”

Finally, we meet!