Survive! Gwanggong! – Chapter 53

<Your Gwanggong Score has increased by 8.>

It was the first time the score had jumped this high all at once. With his eyes still open, Seon-woo reflected.

The moment their lips met, Eun-jae’s eyes had widened briefly, then returned to normal. It was hard to tell if that expression had been out of shock.

Getting suddenly dragged into a car only to be kissed—of course he’d be surprised. Even if Eun-jae threw a punch right now, Seon-woo wouldn’t have a word of protest.

And yet, for someone supposedly startled, he recovered far too quickly. In fact, the look in his eyes now seemed… almost bright. Not only that—hadn’t he nodded just as Seon-woo leaned in to kiss him…?

Was that a trick of the light? Somehow, it didn’t feel like it.

<Current Gwanggong Score: 51.>

<Status Effect: Hyperventilation has been removed.>

<Full recovery from status effects will complete in 10 minutes.>

At least the notifications that popped up next were mildly reassuring. But Seon-woo couldn’t shake his gloomy mood.

If someone were to ask him why he’d kissed Eun-jae, the answer was already clear. First, because it was the best way he could think of to raise his Gwanggong Score. And second—because he couldn’t stand to look at Gwak Seung-hyeon’s eyes anymore.

Those eyes were lit with a storm of emotions—worry, confusion, anger—too tangled to fully name. If he’d reached out to measure their heat, he might’ve gotten burned.

Kissing the main su right in front of the sub gong—Now that was a move worthy of a true Gwanggong.

The only odd part was that the “sub-gong” wasn’t acting like one at all. Instead of burning with jealousy or glaring daggers for stealing the main su, Seung-hyeon was walking a completely different path. He was looking at Seon-woo, yes. But it didn’t feel like jealousy.

Was it the right thing to do?

He thought about it for about two seconds— Then decided yes, it was. This was the right move.

Everything had gone according to plan. His Gwanggong Score was back above 50, and Seung-hyeon’s gaze—once blazing hot—had cooled into something cold and gloomy.

But now that the moment had come, and things had unfolded exactly as intended, Seon-woo felt nothing but heavy inside. The moment the status cleared enough to move, Seon-woo started the engine.

Maybe the severity of the hyperventilation made the recovery unusually quick—just ten minutes to go, and he was already feeling more stable than just a moment ago.

Even as the car began to move, Seung-hyeon remained fixed in place, standing in front of it like he was rooted to the ground. Seon-woo did his best to keep his current feelings from surfacing. He tried not to even picture Seung-hyeon’s face.

Instead, he imagined a flat, pixelated sprite version of Gwak Seung-hyeon.

Yeah. This was a game. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten that.

The mere existence of a so-called “System” that constantly interfered with and constrained him—something that had no place in reality—was enough to remind him where he was.

Every time a notification popped up, he was forcibly made aware again that this world wasn’t the one he used to live in. Back when he’d searched for strategies on message boards and wiki sites, one common answer always came up: the best way to beat a game is to clear it completely.

And in that moment, he’d thought—This is it. 

But had he ever truly felt a desperate need to escape?

When it came to that question, everything had always felt hazy, like it was shrouded in clouds. He’d never really thought about it in concrete terms. Maybe he hadn’t even believed, deep down, that escaping this game was actually possible. Or perhaps, without realizing it, he’d just gotten too used to this place governed by the System.

Lost in those tangled thoughts, ten minutes must have passed. His breathing had finally evened out, completely calm now.

Eun-jae hadn’t said a word the entire time. It wasn’t that Seon-woo had forgotten he was there in the passenger seat—he just hadn’t dared to glance that way. He didn’t have the nerve to deal with it, so he’d deliberately kept his head turned away.

Still, they couldn’t keep driving in total silence forever.

Seon-woo let out a quiet sigh.

What was the best way to explain himself to him? He tried once again to imagine Eun-jae as a flattened pixelated character, but it didn’t work. Not this time. No matter how much he reminded himself this was a game, Seon-woo couldn’t be shameless enough to think, “He’s just a character, so it doesn’t matter.”

Maybe Eun-jae noticed his sigh—without warning, the silence broke as he spoke up.

“You didn’t kiss me out of some sudden overwhelming attraction, right?”

It was a teasing question, lighthearted and joking. His voice was so bright it was hard to believe the car had been drenched in silence just moments ago. But while Eun-jae’s tone was easy and playful, Seon-woo’s heart felt heavier than ever.

If he thought about the relentless system forcing his hand, the honest answer would probably be yes, he kissed him because he had to. But saying that out loud—that lie—was something he couldn’t bring himself to do.

“Don’t worry. I already know.”

When Seon-woo said nothing in return, Eun-jae seemed to read his silence perfectly. He waved a hand dismissively, as if to say it was no big deal. Still, Seon-woo stayed silent. It should’ve been awkward by now, yet Eun-jae’s expression remained as playful as ever.

“Then… did you use me?”

Because that was exactly what he had done, Seon-woo didn’t try to deny it.

“So you did.”

Eun-jae gave a small nod, like he was just confirming a suspicion. Even though he’d just had his suspicions confirmed—that he’d been used—his expression didn’t darken in the slightest. If someone were to look at him now and try to guess his mood based on his face, anyone would’ve said he looked perfectly fine. Happy, even.

Feeling like it would be rude to just sit there and let Eun-jae keep talking, Seon-woo finally opened his mouth.

“Yes. If you want a clear answer… then yes, I used you.”

Eun-jae’s eyes widened slightly, apparently not expecting such a blunt response. Seon-woo turned his gaze away from him and back toward the road.

“That was disrespectful of me. Seriously disrespectful.”

Whatever kind of response came next, Seon-woo figured an apology was the least he could offer. But then—he heard Eun-jae quietly laugh beside him. Startled, Seon-woo turned to look.

Eun-jae smiled and replied, “But I don’t mind if you used me.”

That was… not a response Seon-woo had even remotely expected. When his brows furrowed in confusion, Eun-jae casually shrugged.

“I mean, whatever your reason was, the point is you needed to kiss me, right?”

Gwak Seon-woo already knew Seo Eun-jae liked him. It wasn’t something easy to miss. Even if it was all manipulated by the System’s interference, Eun-jae had always shown up in front of him with an unmistakable warmth in his words.

He’d even approached Seon-woo directly, saying things like, “You don’t have to like me back. As long as you don’t completely hate me, that’s enough.”

So just as the System seemed to be forcing Seon-woo to feel something for Seo Eun-jae, he assumed Eun-jae was only drawn to the “main gong” because he was the “main su.”

There had to be a reason why someone he’d barely even met a few times was acting so warm and familiar with him. That much, at least, made sense.

Regardless, there was always a clear undercurrent of affection in Eun-jae’s words and actions. Pretending not to understand what he’d just said—that would’ve been a lie.

Then Eun-jae added,

“If that’s what you need to do, you can keep using me.”

He didn’t come across as someone who was simply being kind. Nor was he easy to read. He acted so open and honest, yet in moments like this, he could be just as inscrutable as Seung-hyeon. At this point, it was hard for Seon-woo to hide his growing curiosity.

He asked, “Why?”

This time, it was a genuine question, full of honest confusion. Instead of answering directly, Eun-jae smiled—mischievous, almost impish.

“Only if you agree to do me a favor too.”

Seon-woo nodded, wondering just what sort of outrageous request he was about to hear. He’d already made up his mind about the direction he was going to take from now on. But for all the buildup, Eun-jae’s request was incredibly simple.

“We still haven’t used that meal coupon I got you… but today, I want you to buy me dinner.”

To fulfill that oh-so-serious “favor,” they went to the restaurant Eun-jae had once said he wanted to try. Strangely enough, the place had a nearly identical layout to the one Seon-woo had visited earlier that day with Gwak Seung-hyeon and Jo Jeong-hee. As a result, Seon-woo felt like he was sitting on pins and needles the entire time.

Still, dining with Eun-jae was different in many ways. His Gwanggong Score didn’t plummet every time he opened his mouth. In fact, when he gave an appropriate reply, it would sometimes go up instead. More than anything, being able to eat without constantly watching his back—that was what he appreciated most.

He returned home fully satisfied with the meal. And then, he fell into deep thought.

He didn’t know why he’d never seriously considered trying to escape this game before. But now that things had reached this point, doing nothing about it made no sense. If the only way to reach the end of this game was to follow the original plot and “capture” Eun-jae, then maybe that was the best route to take.

Besides, when he was with Eun-jae, he didn’t have to feel anxious over something as simple as a meal. Still… was it really okay to use him like this?

But he said it was fine, didn’t he?!

The old, morally upright Gwak Seon-woo wouldn’t have even thought of doing this. Maybe the System’s brainwashing was finally kicking in.

The idea alone made Seon-woo laugh—tired and hollow.

He must’ve been more mentally drained than he realized. No matter how he looked at it, this still seemed like the best option.

But what unsettled him far more than he expected… was the fact that Gwak Seung-hyeon hadn’t contacted him at all that night.

Author: Levia