A Contracted Gangster Who Has to Die to Survive

“A cop?”

A chill ran down my spine. It felt as though an imaginary warning sign was flashing above my head, alerting me to tread carefully.

“Are you a cop?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Haha, no way! Why would I be?”

Though he asked it lightly, his sharp gaze was carefully analyzing my every reaction.

In the novel Alcohol Swab, Hyun Woo Kyung was a cop. Of course, I wasn’t—I was an idol.

Feigning disbelief, I waved my hands dismissively and laughed awkwardly. All those acting lessons I’d taken were finally paying off. Back when I’d been cast as a rookie cop in a web drama starring Do Hyun Tae, I’d worked hard to prepare for the role.

“I’m just a promising contract worker in Taesung Enterprises’ gang division.”

“A contract worker in a gang? What kind of nonsense is that?”

“Well, according to Min Soo, there’s something like a probationary period. He definitely mentioned it….”

Scratching my head, I trailed off. My knowledge of fines and penalties came from the lines I’d studied for that drama role. Even though it was just a minor part, I hadn’t wanted my performance to ruin the show, so I’d put in the effort to learn.

I’d studied diligently, attended acting classes, and even analyzed the character in detail.

Hearing my explanation, Choi Taejoon let out a dry laugh.

“Earlier, you told the doctor you were an entertainer.”

I glanced at him. His face was so flawless it was hard to believe he was involved in anything shady.

“If anyone here should be an entertainer, it’s you, Executive Director.”

“Don’t change the subject. I asked why you know all these random things.”

“Any ordinary citizen knows this stuff. It’s basic knowledge. Isn’t it weirder if you don’t know?”

At my confident reply, the corners of his eyes seemed to soften slightly.

It seemed he’d decided suspecting me of being a cop was overthinking things—or perhaps he still thought I wasn’t entirely in my right mind after the accident.

“Smoking in public areas is a 100,000-won fine, littering is 1,000,000 won. So, how much for a person?”

“A person isn’t something you can buy or sell.”

Choi Taejoon leaned slightly toward me, his cold fingers brushing my cheek in a deliberate, unsettling motion.

“How much would you cost?”

The chill from his touch sent a jolt through me, echoing in my head like a sudden shockwave. My cheek tingled as if I’d been struck. I instinctively clutched my face with one hand and shook my head.

“My… cost? I’m not for sale!”

Following his gaze, I glanced down at myself.

A crumpled shirt, tattered pants, and scuffed, dusty shoes—all remnants of the chaos from the night before—painted a pathetic picture.

“You seem to have a thing for money.”

“When did I ever…?”

I trailed off, realizing he was probably referring to how I’d been frantically collecting cash off the ground. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Even now, my pocket was stuffed with the bills I’d picked up.

“With how eager you were for a few bucks, I figured your price wouldn’t be that high.”

His voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke, his tone sharp enough to cut.

Ah, this was it. This biting tone was why he and the main protagonist, Park Ha Hyun, constantly butted heads in the novel. Though “butting heads” might be putting it lightly—most of the time, it was just Choi Taejoon berating Park Ha Hyun, who quietly endured it.

For me, watching this felt like witnessing an actor performing a role. I couldn’t help but marvel at how natural it seemed.

Unconsciously, a small smile crept onto my face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s not funny, really.”

I rubbed the spot on my cheek where his fingers had touched, suppressing a chuckle.

“Usually, we call that kind of money ‘compensation,’ not ‘beating money.’”

“Compensation? Don’t make me laugh.”

He scoffed, his chuckle dry and incredulous.

“I got beaten up for no reason. Of course, it’s compensation!”

As we bickered, Manager Kim glanced back from the front passenger seat.

“We’ve arrived, Executive Director.”

Before I realized it, the car had pulled up to the building where Choi Taejoon lived.

We passed rows of luxury cars in the pristine parking lot, their sleek covers gleaming under soft lighting. Taking the private elevator reserved for residents, we ascended to the 80th floor and stepped out.

Even the journey here had felt surreal, but the moment the front door opened, I was struck by the sheer otherworldliness of it all.

My jaw dropped, and my eyes widened in awe, unable to take in everything fast enough.

While the novel had described Choi Taejoon’s home in detail, seeing it in person was on an entirely different level.

The expansive floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the Han River, framed by the clear summer sky. The ceilings were at least twice the height of a normal home, and every detail—the polished floors, the ambient lighting, the luxurious furnishings—oozed opulence.

Even the CEO of our company didn’t live in a place this extravagant. Was being a gangster really such a lucrative career?

Standing in the pristine, spotless space, I felt my disheveled appearance all the more acutely. My wrinkled shirt, scuffed shoes, and dirty face felt wildly out of place.

Even my breathing felt like it needed to be done carefully, as though I might disturb the pristine air of this luxurious penthouse.

“You’re here?”

A woman in an apron greeted us at the door.

She was the housekeeper, responsible for managing the household while Choi Taejoon was away during the day. In the original novel, she appeared a few times, but her lines were limited to simple phrases like, “You’re here?” and “I’ll be leaving now.” She was a minor, insignificant character.

Instead of speaking further, she placed a pair of slippers at my feet as a polite gesture.

Choi Taejoon glanced at me briefly before addressing her.

“Prepare the guest room. If he needs anything, buy it for him.”

“Yes, I’ll take care of it.”

“And he hasn’t eaten yet. Make some food.”

The moment he mentioned food, I realized how hungry I was. I couldn’t even remember the last time I ate. The mere thought of it made my stomach rumble.

The idea of Choi Taejoon instructing someone to prepare my meals and a room for me was disorienting. This wasn’t the cold, ruthless character I had expected.

He turned to look at me, still standing awkwardly in the entryway.

“For now, stay here. Don’t wander around outside. Behave yourself.”

With that curt remark, he turned to leave.

“W-wait! Excuse me, Executive Director.”

I grabbed the hem of his jacket in desperation. He paused, looking down at my hand with a slight frown before brushing it off.

Of course. That temper of his.

“I’m sorry… but, um, does this mean I’m living here with you now?”

He looked at me steadily, as if to say it didn’t matter whether I liked it or not—it had already been decided.

“Yes.”

My jaw dropped, and I quickly clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from shouting.

“This is unbelievable.”

I bowed my head quickly to hide the grin that threatened to spill across my face.

Is this real? Am I really going to live in this amazing house?

No more dingy, grimy lodgings. No more being dragged into exhausting errands.

Memories of all my struggles flashed before my eyes, and tears of relief welled up.

I looked at Choi Taejoon, my eyes glistening. Should I thank him? Call him my savior?

“Does it really make you want to cry that much?”

“Huh? Oh, no!”

I shook my head quickly, pressing the back of my hand against my tearful eyes. I was so happy I almost broke into one of my group’s dance routines. Calm down, Hyun Woo Kyung.

“I don’t come here often. Maybe a few times a month, at most.”

“Oh, I see.”

That made sense. Even in the novel, when he was living with Park Ha Hyun, he rarely visited despite their cohabitation.

Wait. Does that mean I’m living with this guy now?

In the novel, his cohabitation with Park Ha Hyun had been chaotic, to say the least—violent and intense to the point where it wouldn’t have been surprising if someone had died.

Reading about Park Ha Hyun’s slow deterioration had been heartbreaking. Would I have to go through something like that too? Just imagining it made my stomach twist.

“Now that you’re part of the organization, I doubt your goal is to die as a low-ranking grunt,” he said, watching my conflicted expression. His voice was calm, almost as if he were reasoning with me.

“Staying here benefits you, too. Don’t do anything stupid. If you behave, nothing will happen.”

I wiped my eyes and asked, “So… when are you going to kill me?”

His eyes widened slightly at my absurd question, but the shock quickly turned into a sharp, narrowed glare.

“How soon do you want to die?”

“As soon as possible.”

The question and answer were both ridiculous, but I was completely serious.

The brief softness in his expression vanished, replaced by his usual cold, emotionless face.

“You’ll die soon enough. For now, just rest.”

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving me standing there.

As soon as the door closed behind him, my tense shoulders dropped.

Was this a good thing or a bad thing? He said he’d kill me, but now we were suddenly living together. Was he keeping me here to make it more convenient to kill me later? Or was he planning to fatten me up first? I couldn’t make sense of his motives.

In the original story, Choi Taejoon never allowed Hyun Woo Kyung into his personal space. He only used him as a tool to satisfy his desires.

But now, he was offering cohabitation.

Something significant must have changed. Saving him during the accident didn’t seem like enough of a reason—Choi Taejoon wasn’t the type to be moved by such a trivial event.

“This way, please.”

“Oh, yes!”

The housekeeper’s voice brought me back to reality. She led me to the guest room. After making the bed, she turned to look at me.

“If you need anything, let me know. I’ll pick it up when I go shopping this afternoon. If it’s something big, tell me in advance. And about your meal…”

She trailed off, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. It was clear what she meant: Take a shower first.

“Oh, yes. I’ll wash up right now.”

I grabbed the clean clothes and underwear she handed me and stepped into the bathroom.

The faint scent of soap, the pristine tiles, and the spacious bathtub—it was all spotless. This was the same bathroom where, in the novel, the two main characters had shared their most intense moments.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to erase those scenes from my mind.

“It’s so hot…”

Hyun Woo Kyung’s body was lean but well-maintained, likely from his work as a police officer.

I stared absently at the unfamiliar body in the mirror before turning on the shower.

Steam quickly filled the room, clouding the air.

“Just like my future.”

A foggy, uncertain future. Still, I decided to think positively.

Living with Choi Taejoon meant more opportunities to interact with him. And if I got closer to him, the chances of him killing me would increase. That was a good thing, right?

And so, my cohabitation with Choi Taejoon began.