Gwak Seung-hyeon’s eyes sparkled like an excited boy. From his expression, you’d never guess they were talking about the blind spots of the CCTV cameras in the office. His finger was now pointing directly under one of the cameras, clearly indicating that spot was likely out of view. Seon-woo, slightly uncomfortable, followed the direction of that finger with his eyes.
Right beneath the CCTV did seem like a spot that wouldn’t show up on the screen. With that thought in mind, Seon-woo subconsciously turned to glance at Seung-hyeon’s face. Their eyes met just as Seung-hyeon smiled, and Seon-woo found it hard to stop himself from hesitating.
Tilting his head slightly, Seung-hyeon said, “I can’t say for sure… Should we test it?”
His voice was laced with mischief. He was probably suggesting they find out whether that spot was really out of the camera’s view. The implication behind his words was clear. The fact that he’d been imagining a fistfight just a moment ago now seemed laughable in the face of such a blatantly suggestive smile—it was so sudden, it threw him off more than anything.
But that feeling didn’t last long. Because the way Seung-hyeon said it, so obviously in jest, sparked not confusion but irritation. He couldn’t tell where the joke ended and where the sincerity began, but regardless, the teasing tone in Seung-hyeon’s voice rubbed him the wrong way.
Wearing a faint smile, Seon-woo met Seung-hyeon’s gaze. He curled his finger slightly in a beckoning gesture. Seung-hyeon’s expression shifted to a puzzled one.
He probably wouldn’t have answered no matter what Seon-woo asked, but instead of making some pointless remark, Seung-hyeon simply leaned in. As if waiting for that moment, Seon-woo grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and pulled him in with force. In a flash, he had Seung-hyeon pushed up against the wall directly beneath the CCTV. Seung-hyeon braced himself against the wall to keep from stumbling. The sudden movement should have thrown off his balance, but he held his ground with surprising stability.
After confirming that Seung-hyeon wasn’t teetering, Seon-woo raised his head to study his face. One arm was braced against the wall beside Seung-hyeon’s shoulder. With only one arm, it wasn’t enough to completely trap him, and yet Gwak Seung-hyeon stood frozen like someone truly cornered, staring back at Gwak Seon-woo’s face.
Seeing Seung-hyeon offer no resistance, Seon-woo found his voice coming out much softer than he had intended.
“How do you think this would look on the CCTV footage?”
Almost reflexively, Seung-hyeon smiled, but upon closer inspection, the corners of his lips were trembling. It was an uncharacteristically forced smile for him. Whatever the reason, the expression didn’t look bad. With a calm air, Seon-woo continued.
“Do you think it looks like I’m roughing you up?”
Instead of answering, Seung-hyeon lowered his gaze. The look he wore was bashful—excessively so. Of course, it likely wasn’t genuine. More like a calculated act, a feigned shyness delivered with practiced ease.
And yet, rather than being annoyed at Seung-hyeon’s shameless pretense, Seon-woo found himself smiling. Maybe it was those ridiculously coy, downcast eyes—something about it was just funny. Seon-woo leaned in, bringing his face close to Seung-hyeon’s, meeting his eyes again.
Just moments ago, everything had felt so serious, so heavy—and now, it amazed him how a situation like this could still stir something so light and pleasant inside.
Just as Gwak Seon-woo was about to say something, Seung-hyeon slightly lifted the gaze he had been keeping lowered. His eyes, now locked onto Seon-woo’s, held a steadiness that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
Maybe it was Seung-hyeon’s previously gentle demeanor that made Seon-woo drop his guard. Even when Seung-hyeon subtly tilted his head to the side, Seon-woo didn’t react in time—he didn’t even think to.
Then, Seung-hyeon leaned in and gently closed his eyes. Without warning, he kissed him.
Gwak Seon-woo’s eyes were still wide open. And before he could even blink, Seung-hyeon had already pulled back. Unlike before—when he’d immediately taken things further to part Seon-woo’s lips—this time, the gesture was strikingly restrained.
Seon-woo stared quietly at Seung-hyeon as he withdrew. So that was it—the lewd intention behind pointing out the CCTV’s blind spot had come to fruition. Half of him didn’t want to play into Seung-hyeon’s little game, but the other half… was more than ready to give in to the impulse. He reached out.
Seung-hyeon had been about to rest the back of his head against the wall, but Seon-woo was faster. He grabbed the back of Seung-hyeon’s head and pulled him in. When their eyes met again, Seung-hyeon’s widened slightly in surprise—at that moment, Seon-woo closed his.
Their lips met again. Seon-woo couldn’t see with his eyes shut, but he could easily imagine Seung-hyeon’s expression, uncharacteristically rattled, probably with his eyes still open in confusion. But it wouldn’t take long—he’d recover quickly, wrap his arms around Seon-woo’s waist or neck. Then he’d slide his tongue past Seon-woo’s lips…
Strangely enough, and almost as if it were a foregone conclusion, Seon-woo’s prediction was almost completely accurate. Seung-hyeon’s arms wrapped around his waist, and it took only seconds before he softly began prying Seon-woo’s lips apart with his tongue.
Since it was something he himself had initiated, Seon-woo didn’t resist. When he pulled Seung-hyeon closer by the nape, the man responded as if on cue. Seon-woo felt the smooth sweep of his tongue against his teeth and opened his eyes slightly to check—sure enough, Seung-hyeon, still wearing that playfully bashful expression, had his eyes closed and was completely absorbed in the kiss. A shiver ran through Seon-woo, and he quickly shut his eyes again.
Even in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t ignore how eerily silent the system was. Gwak Seon-woo suspected that whatever the reason, the system’s diminished presence meant he had lost a significant degree of control. But considering it had interrupted his earlier conversation with Seo Eun-jae, it clearly hadn’t disappeared. So why was it staying quiet now?
Right before he ran out of breath, he pulled away. The brief confusion lingering in the air didn’t last long—because Gwak Seung-hyeon was looking at him with eyes that practically screamed “More.” No matter how dense someone might be, it was impossible to miss that kind of gaze.
For a fleeting moment, Seon-woo seriously considered giving in.
Thankfully, reason kicked in before it was too late. Avoiding eye contact, he spoke in the coldest voice he could muster.
“Let’s get to work.”
He didn’t need to see it—he could already picture Seung-hyeon’s stunned expression. The thought of that face made him secretly smile to himself.
***
As the hospital room door opened, the patient lying in the bed turned his head with a completely unguarded look. That carefree expression prompted a short, empty chuckle from Seon-woo—but only for a second. He strode forward without hesitation and approached the man. His eyes flicked briefly to the nameplate beside the bed.
Kim Young-min.
It was the exact same name that had been written on the document the secretary handed him.
After making sure no one was passing by in the hallway, Seung-hyeon planted himself firmly next to the closed door. It was clear he meant to block any connection to the outside—and to cut off any possible escape route. Seon-woo silently acknowledged that bringing him along had been the right call. With that thought, he turned his attention back to Kim Young-min.
He looked like someone with something to hide. The way he flinched in shock made that fact obvious. It wasn’t just the surprise of seeing strangers enter his hospital room—his reaction went well beyond that. It was the look of a man who had just come face-to-face with someone he’d desperately hoped to avoid.
In the car earlier, there had been distance between the vehicles, and Seung-hyeon had been wearing sunglasses, so it had been impossible to get a clear view of the man’s face. But judging from this reaction, they’d found the right person. Seon-woo silently thanked his secretary.
Gwak Seon-woo’s plan had been simple: trace the license plate and identify the driver. He’d expected the process to take quite some time—but surprisingly, it had been quick and efficient. Not long after he’d tasked his secretary with the job, a file was handed to him listing the driver’s full name, age, and family relations, all neatly laid out.
Whether this kind of convenience was simply the privilege of being a chaebol, or a testament to his secretary’s exceptional competence—or just a sign that this world was, after all, still a game—he couldn’t say. Rather than waste time on questions he couldn’t answer, Seon-woo had decided to go straight to the source. Seung-hyeon, too, had left Jo Jeong-hee in the care of the secretary and bodyguards, following closely behind.
Now, standing face-to-face with the driver, Seon-woo scrutinized the man’s features. Because the man had tailed Gwanggong’s vehicle, Seon-woo had half-expected someone shady, someone suspicious at a glance. So when he finally saw the man in person, his first thought was—he’s more ordinary than I imagined.
Kim Young-min looked like your average office worker. There was nothing about him that screamed “the type to tail a chaebol’s car in broad daylight.” The report from the secretary had said he was a man in his thirties running a small auto repair shop—still, Seon-woo hadn’t expected this level of plainness.
It was strange that someone who’d caused such a stir would then shamelessly get himself admitted to a nearby hospital—but given how ordinary the man appeared, Seon-woo could almost understand. Still, the situation felt so sloppily laid out it was as if someone wanted him to get caught. Even so, this was the best they could work with for now.
Seon-woo strode directly up to the ghost-pale man. The way he grabbed him by the collar was textbook intimidation. Kim Young-min kept glancing nervously toward the door Seung-hyeon was blocking before reluctantly turning his head to face Seon-woo.
Despite the menacing atmosphere, Seon-woo spoke in a calm, controlled tone.
“I’ll be blunt. Who sent you?”
Kim Young-min clenched his eyes shut.
