Seung-hyeon’s voice was as calm as if he were talking about the weather. As always, it was impossible to read what he was really thinking. Right now, there was no telling whether he was saying those words while torn up inside or if he was genuinely okay and just making a lighthearted remark.
But either way, it didn’t really matter.
“To who? Gwak Sang-cheol?”
If Seung-hyeon truly wanted revenge, it wasn’t something he couldn’t make happen. Of course, the idea had popped into his head impulsively out of anger for Seung-hyeon. But even when thinking rationally, the answer wasn’t any different. Gwak Sang-cheol was someone who needed to be dealt with regardless. Even the system would likely agree with that.
The current Gwak Seon-woo might not understand, since he didn’t share any fond memories with his uncle. But in truth, the one who’d been closest to Seung-hyeon’s father—more than even his own son—had been Gwanggong. So even from Gwanggong’s perspective, there was nothing wrong with taking action. If anything, had it been Gwanggong himself, he probably would’ve reacted with even more fury than anyone else.
Seon-woo remained silent, his lips pressed together as he stared straight ahead in discomfort. With his face buried in Seon-woo’s shoulder again, Seung-hyeon couldn’t see his expression. Still, his voice came again, as light and weightless as ever—a clear joking tone.
“Yes. If I asked you to kill him for me, would you do it?”
“Yeah.”
The instant reply made Seung-hyeon flinch slightly where his body touched Seon-woo’s shoulder. It wasn’t something he had filtered through thought—it had just come out. But there was no regret.
Whether that tremble was real or just his imagination, Seung-hyeon returned to his original posture as if nothing had happened. He didn’t raise his head until a moment later.
Tilting his head slightly, Seung-hyeon looked up at Seon-woo’s face from a distance so close, they were practically touching. As their eyes met, a thought suddenly crossed Seon-woo’s mind.
When had Gwak Seung-hyeon started touching him like it was the most natural thing in the world? And when had he started accepting it just as naturally…?
The longer they held eye contact, the more he wanted to look away. But he didn’t. Instead, he tried to guess what Seung-hyeon was about to say.
In his imagination, Seung-hyeon would flash that usual nonchalant smile and say, “I was joking,” or maybe adopt that prim attitude he’d shown earlier with the man they’d just met and say, “Then please go ahead and do it.”
He ran through several other options in his mind.
It was funny—how the system had stopped offering Gwak Seon-woo choices, and now he was filling that void with his own imagined possibilities.
But almost as if mocking his little daydream, the words that came out of Seung-hyeon’s mouth had nothing to do with any of them.
“I like you, Director.”
Seon-woo froze, like someone had hit a stopwatch. The gaze he’d been using to meet Seung-hyeon’s eyes shifted ever so slightly.
Seung-hyeon, who had an almost eerie ability to pick up on Seon-woo’s every change, probably caught that strange reaction too. But he didn’t show it. Acting as if he hadn’t noticed a thing, Seung-hyeon turned his eyes away, then playfully pressed down on Seon-woo’s knee a couple of times. A simple, harmless bit of physical contact.
“I hope you stay like this forever… with your memory gone.”
Even a throwaway remark meant as a joke, Seon-woo accepted more sincerely than any heartfelt confession. The normal response would’ve been to scold him, but he didn’t feel like doing that. Instead, Seon-woo replied in silence.
‘I will.’
Even if Seung-hyeon hadn’t asked, he was already planning to take down Gwak Sang-cheol. He’d known about Sang-cheol’s corruption since the very beginning of the game. It was something the system had practically forced him to uncover, even going so far as to have him skip meals over it. So dealing with Sang-cheol wasn’t just personal—it was essential to the progression of the game.
What bothered him, though, was that he had assumed Sang-cheol was just a stupid embezzler siphoning off company funds. But he turned out to be far more malicious than expected.
Catching Gwak Sang-cheol red-handed had been surprisingly easy. Even the surface-level digging Seon-woo had done revealed that the amount of money he’d diverted wasn’t just pocket change. On top of that, Seung-hyeon had been compiling a thick file of evidence over time, stuffed with information about Gwak Sang-cheol—enough to write a full encyclopedia.
He was like a bottomless pit of corruption—no matter how much you dug, more filth kept surfacing. The only reason he’d gotten away with it so far was because people had turned a blind eye. At this point, it was hard to believe there was anyone who didn’t know what he’d done.
All the information related to Gwak Sang-cheol’s misconduct had already been handed over to the prosecution. Seon-woo was the type to believe that the fastest and most accurate resolution was letting the law take its course. Whether it was something he’d been planning out of personal grudge or simply a required step for the game’s progression, having Sang-cheol arrested was just a matter of time now.
However…
“You’re here.”
Seon-woo greeted him without getting up from his seat. Gwak Sang-cheol stepped into the room, his face flushed red. With a smirk, Seon-woo raised his wine glass, reclining in a deliberately rude posture to piss him off as much as possible.
As soon as they’d returned, the two of them had checked the contents of the USB drive the man had given them. Just like he’d said, it was a video of a conversation between him and Gwak Sang-cheol. Clear as day, Gwak Sang-cheol could be seen directly ordering the murder of his brother, Gwak Sang-woo, and the man’s family.
Embezzling company funds was one thing, but ordering the death of your own brother? That was a whole different level of depravity. With that video alone, they could easily destroy Sang-cheol beyond recovery. No wonder the man had claimed he’d risked his life to protect it.
But the more evidence they uncovered, the more unsettled Seon-woo felt. There was something about all of this that didn’t sit right with him, no matter how much he thought about it. That was why he’d deliberately called Gwak Sang-cheol in.
Sang-cheol, breathing heavily through his nose, stomped into the room. Seon-woo, unfazed, gestured toward the seat across from him and began to speak with a calm, leisurely air.
“You must’ve been in a real hurry.”
Sang-cheol gave him a look like he’d just spewed utter nonsense and snapped back.
“What the hell are you babbling about the second I walk in?”
He really was someone whose inside matched his outside—no pretense, no subtlety.
Adjusting his posture to sit upright, Seon-woo replied in a smooth, unbothered tone.
“After staying so quiet all this time, you suddenly start pulling shady moves again… I’m just pointing out the timing.”
Though the words had been vague, Gwak Sang-cheol seemed to understand them well enough. He quickly wiped the expression off his face and replaced it with a greasy smile, but he couldn’t fully hide the flash of panic that had crossed his features.
So sloppy.
“You must’ve lacked confidence.”
“What the hell are you talking about, confidence?”
“Who knows. Confidence that you’d come out on top in the succession war?”
With every jab, Gwak Sang-cheol’s face twisted further. He’d been careless the last time they met too, but not this much. It was clear now—he was under pressure, and badly.
Determined to provoke him further, Seon-woo kept laying it on.
“If you’d just stayed quiet, none of this would’ve resurfaced. Digging your own grave like this—it’s a talent, really.”
“You drag me here just to spit out this rude, senseless bullshit?”
Seon-woo didn’t even flinch at Sang-cheol’s angry outburst. Everything he’d said so far had just been a prelude to the one question he really wanted to ask. He set down his wine glass and asked casually,
“Did you do it all on your own?”
That was the one thing that wouldn’t leave his mind. No matter how he looked at it, Gwak Sang-cheol didn’t seem like someone capable of pulling this off by himself. Even if he chalked it up to the guy being more calculating and vicious than he looked, there were still too many holes in the story.
Someone who failed to notice he was being filmed during a secret meeting? Someone who left traces of corruption scattered all over the place? That kind of person being careful enough to keep his crimes buried this long? It didn’t add up.
“That’s what I came to ask. Who helped you, Uncle?”
Gwak Sang-cheol visibly faltered. Seon-woo watched him calmly, waiting for a response. After a brief silence, Sang-cheol gave a dismissive snort and answered,
“I didn’t get help from anyone. I don’t know what the hell you’re implying, but everything I achieved was by my own hand.”
“Is that so?”
He hadn’t expected a truthful answer anyway. The reason he called Sang-cheol here was to confirm one thing: whether the man was secretly sharper and more capable than he appeared.
Seon-woo replied indifferently,
“Seems I underestimated you too much all this time, Uncle.”
Then he added, in the same flat, unbothered voice,
“You’ll be indicted soon.”
It was the tone of someone casually mentioning tomorrow’s weather.
Sang-cheol, clearly enraged by Seon-woo’s brazen attitude, slammed the table and raised his voice.
“You… You really think… you can do anything? Huh?! You think the Chairman doesn’t know about the shit I’ve done—the money I took? You think he’s kept quiet because he was ignorant?”
He had a point. There was no way Chairman Gwak had been unaware of Sang-cheol’s blatant embezzlement. Most likely, he’d simply tolerated it—believing it was within acceptable limits. That was probably how Sang-cheol had managed to avoid consequences for so long.
Even Seung-hyeon had mentioned it—that the Chairman might lash out in fury.
But Seon-woo simply shrugged.
“That would only apply when you were just the disappointing son. But can you really say the same if you’re a murderer who killed his own brother?”
Gwak Sang-cheol’s face went deathly pale.
Seon-woo watched him for a moment, then dropped his gaze.
This man has an accomplice.
Who could it be?
