After the chairman left the room, Sang-hwa immediately covered her face with one hand and muttered to herself. “Damn old man. If he was going to do this…”
Her words trailed off with a deep sigh. While Seon-woo couldn’t entirely sympathize with Gwak Sang-hwa’s emotions, the whirlwind of events that had just passed left him just as drained.
Let’s try to sort this out.
Seon-woo kept his mouth shut and began organizing his thoughts. Gwak Sang-cheol had already been indicted, and Nam Jeong-dong—having divorced Gwak Sang-hwa—seemed unlikely to escape a prison sentence. As for Gwak Su-won… no one knew where he was or what he was up to. That would have to be investigated once he resurfaced.
At the very least, the chairman appeared to be planning to rebuild the company around Gwak Sang-gyeong and Gwak Sang-hwa. He didn’t seem inclined to protect Gwak Sang-cheol and the others, which was a relief.
If that was the case, then perhaps things were finally wrapping up.The whole power struggle over chaebol management rights, which had ended in a muddled, ambiguous conclusion, felt anticlimactic. Though they had made it through this crisis, the thought of having to actually run the company going forward gave Seon-woo a headache. This was real life now—with no interference from the system, no nudges from the original storyline. Things weren’t going to be easy.
Sang-hwa remained silent for a moment longer, then rose from her seat. She had been completely absorbed in her own world, as if there was no one else beside her, but when she reached the door, she finally spoke.
“…I’ll be in touch again soon.”
“Yes. Congratulations.”
Seon-woo offered a blandly polite remark, hiding the tangle of emotions inside him. To some, it might’ve sounded indifferent. Gwak Sang-hwa let out a short laugh before walking away. Only after her footsteps had completely faded did Seon-woo let out a long sigh and sink into the back of the chair.
“Let’s get going.”
Despite saying so, his body remained buried in the seat, unmoving.
Until now, Seung-hyeon had been sitting there silently, like someone without a mouth, but at that moment, he finally came back to life. He lightly rolled his shoulders a couple of times, as if trying to loosen up his stiff body, and asked with a sigh-like voice,
“You must be really tired, huh?”
“You don’t look so fresh yourself.”
“Well, you know.”
Even that small exchange eased some of the tension. Seon-woo stretched lightly to shake off the fatigue weighing on his body.
“I’m just… a little tired, I guess.”
He muttered, then slowly pushed himself up. Seung-hyeon let out a soft chuckle and held up Seon-woo’s jacket, making it easier for him to slip it on.
Seon-woo put on the jacket naturally, and with a glance, signaled to move out. Seung-hyeon instantly understood and followed after him.
Once in the car, as he started the engine, Seung-hyeon asked gently,
“Still can’t shake the mood?”
“…Was it that obvious?”
Caught off guard by the soothing tone, Seon-woo quietly asked back. He’d thought he’d kept a decent poker face, but apparently, it hadn’t fooled Seung-hyeon.
Seung-hyeon replied with an easy smile,
“I can read you like a book, Director.”
His tone was half teasing. Seon-woo allowed himself a faint smile inwardly, though his expression remained unreadable as he nodded.
“Fair enough.”
“Didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”
At that, Seung-hyeon looked genuinely surprised. Something about that face eased Seon-woo’s heart just a little. He carefully chose his next words.
“It’s not that I’m in a bad mood… It’s just, I’m a little worried.”
He couldn’t believe how good it felt not having the system around anymore to nag him with things like ‘A Gwanggong does not worry.’ Feeling lighter, he continued.
“Aunt doesn’t seem entirely at ease, either.”
“She’s a proud woman.”
“And my father… says he’s coming back to Korea.”
“That part bothers me too. Want to dodge him together?”
Seung-hyeon nodded instantly, chiming in with perfect timing. When he suggested avoiding Gwak Sang-gyeong, Seon-woo chuckled softly, picturing himself forever running from his father.
“And then there’s the fact that I’m supposed to keep acting as CEO… with half my memories still missing.”
“For someone in that state, you’ve been handling things just fine.”
Seung-hyeon replied with a faint, amused laugh. Seon-woo responded with a casual shrug. Thankfully, Gwak Seon-woo had a knack for work—but truth be told, his ability to adapt so quickly to the company’s inner workings was largely thanks to the system that used to guide him. Now that it was gone, the playing field had changed, and deep down, he wasn’t feeling all that confident.
Noticing the flicker of doubt on Seon-woo’s face, Seung-hyeon kept the conversation going.
“Even someone like Gwak Sang-cheol managed to do just fine for himself. What are you so worried about? Not just him, either—this whole industry’s full of people like that. Guys who loaf around like thugs one minute and suddenly get thrown into high-level management the next without knowing the first thing about it.”
Though his tone was gentle for the sake of comfort, his words were scathing. Seon-woo let out a faint laugh, picturing Gwak Sang-cheol’s ears burning somewhere. Seung-hyeon chuckled along, then added,
“I’ll help you however much you need. Don’t worry.”
Strictly speaking, Seung-hyeon hadn’t even been born into the chaebol world. He didn’t seem to have any lust for power, either. He had no real reason to burden himself like this. The fact that he was willingly choosing to go through all this just for Seon-woo—that hit a little deep.
“You’ll do great. And even if you mess up a bit, it’s not like the chairman’s gonna throw you out.”
Gwak Seung-hyeon, rambling on with comforting words, looked ridiculously endearing to Seon-woo. If he let that show, Seung-hyeon might stop talking, so Seon-woo kept his face serious and his lips sealed.
“If it comes down to it, how about we blame your condition on the trauma from being kidnapped?”
Something about the playful tone sparked mischief in him. Seon-woo played along, asking seriously, “And what if I say I just can’t do this anymore?”
“You could still get paid for sitting there doing nothing, you know.”
“And if I get kicked out for it?”
“That’s not gonna happen. But even if it did, I’m sure the chairman would still set you up with a way to make a living.”
“What if I said I didn’t even want to pretend to work?”
The rapid back-and-forth came to a brief halt—because Seung-hyeon burst into a bright, carefree laugh. That pure, unfiltered laughter felt like it punctured through the heavy fog weighing on Seon-woo’s chest.
As he quietly watched, Seung-hyeon answered in a voice still tinged with laughter, “Then you can just stay home, Director, and I’ll go out and earn a living for the both of us.”
Even if Seung-hyeon gave it his all, his income wouldn’t compare to someone like Seon-woo, who held a CEO position in one of KG Group’s major affiliates. But the fact that he said it so naturally, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world—that alone made it too endearing to poke fun at.
“If you ever quit your job, I might just resign too.”
“And where exactly do you think you’re going?”
That offhand remark, clearly said without much thought, was immediately met with a response. Coming from someone who had just been joking about quitting himself, Seon-woo’s sudden shift in tone made Seung-hyeon turn to him curiously.
“You planning to keep going, then?”
“Well, it was a joke from the start.”
Seon-woo shrugged, prompting another laugh from Seung-hyeon. At this rate, anyone who saw him would think he had a hole in his lungs from laughing so much. But in truth, Seon-woo himself couldn’t help but smile every time he looked at him.
“You said you’d help me, didn’t you?”
“Of course.”
At Seung-hyeon’s immediate reply, Seon-woo’s voice softened noticeably.
“Why the hell are you going along with all this?”
He kept answering with such gentle sincerity, even to ridiculous things, that it made Seon-woo want to mess with him more and more. But Seung-hyeon replied with practiced ease, showing no signs of backing down.
“Because I want to.”
“Ahem, hm.”
The unexpected confession made Seon-woo clear his throat.
Does he mean he likes helping out, or that he likes me…?
Deciding it was likely a double meaning, heat flared up in his throat.
Trying to play it off, Seon-woo turned to stare out the window and spoke again.
“…What exactly do you like about me?”
He’d meant it as a cheeky jab—but once it was out of his mouth, all he felt was secondhand embarrassment.
To his dismay, Seung-hyeon turned to him with unmistakable amusement sparkling in his eyes. Trying to bury the awkwardness, Seon-woo continued,
“There must’ve been some kind of moment, or reason, right?”
He had originally intended to tease—What do you like about me, huh?—but things had already gone off the rails. And now that he’d asked, he found himself genuinely curious… and a bit uneasy.
“Was it from the very beginning? Did you like me from the start?”
The question came out sounding like a self-absorbed dig, but Seon-woo was being serious. If Seung-hyeon had feelings for him not as himself, but as the Gwanggong version of Gwak Seon-woo, that would be… difficult to digest.
Even now, he couldn’t say for sure whether Gwanggong and he were truly separate. He had become so deeply intertwined with that persona. Still, the uncertainty lingered, gnawing at him.
While Seon-woo wrestled with that inner turmoil, Seung-hyeon replied lightly,
“‘From the beginning’—you mean back when we were in high school?”
High school. High school-aged Gwak Seung-hyeon.
He’d known, of course—but hearing the word from Seung-hyeon’s own mouth gave it a surprising amount of weight. Trying to look unaffected, Seon-woo nodded with composure.
“I mean, I didn’t dislike you from the start.”
Didn’t dislike? A vague answer. But before Seon-woo could press, Seung-hyeon continued, as if wanting to clarify.
“But if you’re asking whether I liked you in this way back then, of course not.”
He couldn’t help the quiet sigh of relief that escaped inside. Seon-woo responded dryly, “Then when did it start?”
“When I started to notice you was… probably when we ran into each other in front of the elevator that day?”
He was referring to the exact moment Gwak Seon-woo had first possessed the Gwanggong’s body. That caught Seon-woo off guard, but Seung-hyeon, deep in thought, didn’t seem to notice. He continued with a soft smile.
“And then, when you took my side in front of the chairman that day…”
“You’re not going to say you didn’t take my side?”
Seon-woo grumbled at the playful pause. “Just get on with it.”
Maybe it was just a brief tease, because Seung-hyeon immediately went on.
“When I got home, I kept thinking about your voice.”
“My voice?”
“Yeah. The way you said your hands felt weak.”
He was referring to that moment when Seon-woo had deliberately dropped his cup, irritated by how outrageously Gwak Sang-cheol was treating Seung-hyeon.
“…That? That’s nothing.”
Feeling embarrassed, Seon-woo’s voice grew colder and more clipped. But Seung-hyeon, completely unbothered, was smiling brightly—like someone lost in a fond memory.
“And as I kept thinking about it…”
Seon-woo waited, nerves bristling, for what would come next. Then Seung-hyeon said, in an utterly calm and composed tone—
“I got hard.”
It was so casual, Seon-woo thought he must’ve misheard. He blinked, stunned, and asked reflexively, “…What?”
But Gwak Seung-hyeon didn’t offer any clarification. No explanation that he had just “stood up” from his seat, or that it was just goosebumps from the moment—none of that. The lack of excuse made it clear he meant exactly what he’d said.
Seon-woo’s eyes reflexively dropped to glance between Seung-hyeon’s legs. Not a hint of shame.
“Not hard right now, but… if you keep staring like that, who knows.”
At those unbothered words, Seon-woo jerked his head away in surprise. He was the only one flustered. Seung-hyeon just grinned mischievously and tossed out a question.
“Should I have just said it was love at first sight?”
At this point, it didn’t even matter when it had started. Seon-woo responded with a cynical tone,
“Then I’d have thought you were nuts.”
“Do you not like crazy people?”
Seung-hyeon shot back instantly, his voice dropping into a low chuckle.
Curious where he was going with this, Seon-woo turned to steal a glance—but Seung-hyeon was facing forward again, murmuring like it was nothing.
“Losing your memory and suddenly going into heat for your cousin… that doesn’t exactly scream sanity, you know.”
“………”
Seriously, how could he keep saying things like that so casually…? Seon-woo’s eyes trembled uncontrollably in pure shock.
Barely managing to collect himself, he snapped back with forced firmness, “So just because someone’s lost their memory, they go into heat for anybody?”
“There you go again with those jokes.”
Seung-hyeon replied in a mock-hurt voice. Trying to act indifferent, Seon-woo retorted,
“Good. As long as it’s not anyone.”
Seung-hyeon’s laughter rang out for a while. When he finally spoke again, his voice was unusually gentle, the edges softened.
“Feeling any better now?”
Of course, he’d already been feeling better for a while. But for some reason, Seon-woo couldn’t resist being just a little contrary.
“I don’t know. Maybe try a little harder?”
“Then let’s hurry home so you can rest.”
Seung-hyeon responded right away. As if taking his cue, the car—which had been cruising smoothly, perhaps out of consideration for Seon-woo—subtly picked up speed.
While the car zipped steadily down the road, Seon-woo glanced sideways at Seung-hyeon’s profile.
It was a pleasant kind of tension.
And quietly, to himself, he smiled.
