Survive! Gwanggong! – Chapter 87

“Do you really think it’s appropriate to assign something like that to me?”

Gwak Seung-hyeon asked in an impeccably polite and composed tone. It wasn’t disrespectful, but he wasn’t intimidated either. Chairman Gwak stared at Seung-hyeon’s face with a look that revealed nothing. Though he was trying to appear calm, Seung-hyeon was clearly rattled—understandably so, as he stood before a man who was his legal grandfather in name only, with no actual blood relation.

It wasn’t just the chairman’s unusual vigor for his age that unsettled him—it was the content of what he’d said that truly threw him off.

“You know very well how much the Director hates me.”

As Seung-hyeon spoke calmly, he realized it had been quite some time since he’d even said the man’s name aloud. The shift from calling him “Hyung” to the much colder “Director” felt awkward and sharp—yet somehow fitting for their relationship now.

It had been several years since Seung-hyeon’s father had passed away. In other words, it had also been several years since his relationship with Gwak Seon-woo became irreparable. Ever since the day of the funeral, Seung-hyeon had never treated Seon-woo with the same informal familiarity as before. They barely saw each other, so it was rare for him to have to say his name, but on the rare occasion he did, he made sure to refer to him strictly by title.

Seon-woo was currently serving as a company director. As the chairman’s grandson and someone many believed would eventually inherit the business, it made sense. And indeed, Chairman Gwak paid unusually close attention to anything concerning Seon-woo—his every move was watched with intense interest.

Seung-hyeon had known that much. But still… he hadn’t expected this.

“Even if you send me, you’re not going to get much out of it.”

After graduating from college, Seung-hyeon had taken a job at a company completely unrelated to his grandfather’s and was quietly living a normal life in the working world. Since there was no blood relation to begin with, their familial connection could easily be hidden as long as Seung-hyeon kept his mouth shut. But now, it was surprisingly Chairman Gwak who was trying to drag that hidden relationship back into the light.

Given how distant they’d been, Seung-hyeon had been genuinely surprised when the chairman summoned him. What he said after calling him in was even more shocking. The chairman had told Seung-hyeon to quit his current job and join the headquarters. All for one reason—to be near Gwak Seon-woo.

“Did he tell you to call him that?”

The question was somewhat off-topic. Was he pointing out Seung-hyeon’s use of “Director”? When Seung-hyeon kept his mouth shut and didn’t answer, the chairman shook his head and muttered under his breath. It seemed he hadn’t expected a reply anyway.

“You really are cold-blooded…”

The chairman’s directive was simple: join the company where Gwak Seon-woo worked, take a team leader position in a suitable department, and keep an eye on him. It was a parachute job, sure—but whether it was to rein in the capable Seon-woo or out of genuine concern for him, Seung-hyeon couldn’t be sure. Just as he was eyeing the chairman with suspicion, expecting a clearer answer, the words that came out of the old man’s mouth took an unexpected turn.

“Back when I was younger, I really did think of Sang-cheol as my successor. I was quite fond of that boy, too.”

At the sudden and seemingly unrelated remark, Seung-hyeon furrowed his brow. Gwak Sang-gyeong was Gwak Seon-woo’s father. Among the chairman’s children, he was known as one of the most capable and business-savvy, often away from Korea due to his aggressive focus on overseas markets. Seung-hyeon had rarely seen him in person, but he had a sense of the man’s character. Cold. Detached.

He’d seemed more estranged from his son than from strangers.

It was practically a given that he would inherit the company once the chairman passed. Chairman Gwak trusted him more than his other children. And yet, his voice now—bringing up Sang-gyeong—carried an odd undertone of unease.

As Seung-hyeon narrowed his eyes and studied his grandfather’s face, the old man spoke again, his tone grave.

“That’s not to say I didn’t care for Sang-woo. He had… something none of my other children did.”

The sudden mention of his father’s name stopped all thought in Seung-hyeon’s mind.

Whether the chairman noticed the pallor draining from his grandson’s face or simply didn’t care, he continued speaking, unbothered.

“There are times I wonder if I made a mistake. Which is exactly why I try to avoid making new ones.”

It was cryptic, impossible to parse.

Seung-hyeon forgot to manage his expression, his gaze dropping with visible displeasure. Just then, Chairman Gwak turned his head and looked at him.

“You… you resemble Sang-woo. It’s strange, considering not a drop of blood connects you.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment?

He couldn’t even guess what the old man meant by that—or what his motive was in saying it.

“You don’t have to do much. I never expected that in the first place. This isn’t about keeping Seon-woo in check or spying on him. Just observe. Take note of who’s around him, what kind of movements they’re making.”

Seung-hyeon blinked, trying to compose the expression that had slipped. Then he lifted his head.

He was stiff, resistant—but deep down, he already knew how this would end.

Especially after the mention of his father.

He didn’t nod. Not even a little.

But the next day, Seung-hyeon submitted his resignation letter.

It wasn’t a welcome beginning, but he adjusted surprisingly well to his new position. He knew better than anyone that doing too poorly—or too well—would be a problem. So he kept it balanced: never negligent enough to be accused of slacking off, but just lax enough to draw the occasional comment about coasting through the work. That way, no one would see him as a threat.

Watching Gwak Seon-woo, he quickly reached a conclusion:

There were more forces keeping Seon-woo in check than expected—and Seon-woo himself didn’t seem to care one bit.

Likely because he was so competent that none of it really affected him.

That worked out well for Seung-hyeon. All he had to do was monitor the situation and report to the chairman now and then.

But that day was different.

Looking back, it had definitely been a strange day.

Gwak Seung-hyeon often had nightmares. He never remembered the details when he woke up, but they always seemed connected to the accident.

Sometimes, he dreamed of drowning. Sometimes, of barely surviving. And sometimes, of strangling his father to death underwater.

Whenever he had one of those dreams, he felt off for the rest of the day.

It took everything just to keep it from showing.

That day was one of those days.

Even after waking up and splashing cold water on his face multiple times to shake off the remnants of the dream, the discomfort clung to him. It still hadn’t lifted by the time he arrived at work. Seung-hyeon stepped out of the office, intending to grab a drink, but didn’t make it far.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Gwak Seon-woo was standing in front of the elevator.

Knowing how obsessively early Seon-woo arrived to work every day, this was a rare and surprising sight.

Seung-hyeon hesitated.

Despite working in the same building, the two of them barely spoke. Whenever their eyes happened to meet, Seon-woo typically shot him a look thick with contempt, and on the rare occasions they were forced to interact, it always ended badly.

Now, watching him stand there with his usual blank expression, Seung-hyeon couldn’t help but recall the vicious things Seon-woo had screamed at him and his mother, and the objects he’d hurled at them in fits of rage.

In truth, it would’ve been best to just keep his mouth shut. But still…

“Good morning. What’s the occasion? Surprised to see you coming in this late.”

The words came out on impulse—he greeted him with a laid-back, teasing tone. He saw Seon-woo turn his head in response.

Seung-hyeon had no idea why he’d spoken to him. Maybe, just for a moment, he’d imagined something different about him. But he couldn’t figure out what.

Seon-woo’s icy glare was exactly the same as always.

“Must be bored out of your mind, if you’re trying to make small talk with me.”

The words weren’t as venomous as usual, but they were still laced with that signature condescension.

So much for that. Seung-hyeon shrugged, scolding himself for the mistake.

“Right, like you’ve ever been any different…”

He turned to walk away—But then stopped.

Something flickered across Seon-woo’s face.

It was subtle, fleeting, but unmistakable. A look Seung-hyeon had never seen from him before. It was… uneasy. Unsettled. Had it been on someone else’s face, he might have called it guilt. Maybe even remorse. But guilt? Remorse? From Gwak Seon-woo? The man who could rip someone apart with words and not blink as they crumbled? Who could watch someone die and not flinch?

No. Impossible.

It had to be a trick of the eyes.

Caught in uncertainty, Seung-hyeon turned his head to check again—But Seon-woo was already gone, vanished behind the closing elevator doors.

He could’ve dismissed it as a hallucination. That would’ve been easy.

And yet, all the way until lunchtime, he couldn’t get Seon-woo out of his head.

He had a strange, persistent feeling that he hadn’t been mistaken.

While still lost in thought, Executive Director Kim approached him. He was one of Gwak Sang-cheol’s loyal cronies—Sang-cheol being Seung-hyeon and Seon-woo’s uncle.

Kim leaned in and quietly said that Seon-woo had canceled his lunch plans and told Seung-hyeon to look into what was going on. The fact that Kim even thought he’d listen was laughable.

But Seung-hyeon didn’t refuse. He was curious.

And when he saw Gwak Seon-woo toss the sandwich he’d received into the trash—That’s when he was certain.

Gwak Seon-woo was feeling guilty.

He didn’t know what it was about, but something had changed.

And realizing that—

Bizarrely, what flooded Seung-hyeon’s mind wasn’t confusion. It was a sharp, almost intoxicating sense of euphoria.

Author: Levia