Substitute-Chapter 53

Even after finishing their meal and heading to the lobby, they kept speaking in ways no one could make sense of.

“What do you mean you took a development class? What, you learned to code or something?”

Uncharacteristically, Jiwon snapped in irritation.

“Ah, you dumb fuck. Coding? Here?”

Kim Yunho giggled but still didn’t give him a straight answer.

“Our dear Kim Jiwon, what a shame you missed out on such a good thing. Hyung, when’s the next class again?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You heard that? It’s tomorrow, so don’t get too worked up.”

Kim Yunho teased him with a smug grin.

It was already annoying that no one would just say it outright, but something else was bothering him even more.

Even though he had collapsed during class and missed back-to-back schedule blocks, no one asked about it—except Park Geonwoo. The rest acted like it had never happened. Like it wasn’t real.

If they had always been that type, fine—but these were the same guys who used to freak out over someone just looking a little pale and go, “Are you okay?”

“You call that development?”

Son Geonwoo, who’d joined late, asked Park Geonwoo.

From his tone, it sounded like he already knew something. But if Jiwon asked Son Geonwoo about it, he’d have to admit he missed the class—so he kept his mouth shut.

They said he’d find out tomorrow anyway. He’d just have to wait.

He sipped his coffee.

At some point, even the muzzled ones had entered the lobby.

“Gwak Chan! Choi Minjae! Over here, over here!!”

Park Geonwoo actually climbed onto a chair to call out to them. Clueless Choi Minjae took the seat with a big “alright!”

“Hyungs, I’m jealous. You got your milk squeezed, right?”

Gwak Chan asked the group around Jiwon.

“You guys were sucking cock.”

Kim Yunho shot back.

“How’s that the same? Wasn’t even a real dick. Plus the instructor was the worst.”

Then he suddenly screamed.

“UAAAAH! I’ve already hit my fucking limit!”

Gwak Chan, with no hair to actually pull, still grabbed at his head dramatically.

Park Geonwoo and Kim Yunho burst into laughter like maniacs, smacking each other on the back as they cracked up.

“What the hell is wrong with them.”

Son Geonwoo frowned.

“Oh yeah, by the way, why didn’t you call me last night?”

Son Geonwoo suddenly remembered and asked Park Geonwoo, almost accusingly.

“Asshole, did you call me?”

“That’s different.”

“What’s different? Besides, yesterday it was just the boys having a cocktail.”

“You drank with those assholes and now you’re lying?”

Word must’ve gotten around already.

“That was this bastard Yunho’s idea. I only called Jiwon, alright?”

“Then who called Number 3?”

Jiwon flinched. He hadn’t expected Son Geonwoo to bring up Number 3.

“Oho, would you look at this bastard. You got beef with Number 3?”

Park Geonwoo’s eyes gleamed as he leaned into Son Geonwoo’s face.

Son Geonwoo’s expression said: Why ask what you already know?

Naturally, Park Geonwoo’s gaze {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} turned toward Jiwon.

“Our fragile little boy’s got some fans. I wonder what part of him swayed the hearts of both our dear Geonwoo and Number 3?”

He beamed like it was cute.

“Hyung. Knock it off. You’re saying nonsense.”

Jiwon grumbled.

“What’s with the attitude? You’re making our Geonwoo sad.”

Strangely, it wasn’t Park Geonwoo—Son Geonwoo seemed more pissed at Jiwon.

Why? What did I do?

“Oh! So the person Jiwon-hyung had his eye on was Geonwoo?”

Clueless as ever, Choi Minjae cut in.

Now it was starting to seem intentional.

At Choi Minjae’s words, Son Geonwoo raised an eyebrow.

“You told that bastard about me?”

His pissed-off face relaxed into a smile.

“He’s not a bastard. He’s Choi Minjae. Twenty-seven years old.”

Choi Minjae took the liberty of introducing himself.

So Son Geonwoo went, “Seems you already know my name. I’m twenty-five.”

“Can I just call you Geonwoo?”

“Sure. Minjae-hyung.”

Jiwon squeezed his eyes shut.

Why the hell is the infiltrator being this nosy?

Sure, Choi Minjae probably prepared in his own way before coming here, but Jiwon was still worried. That things might go sideways because of him.

Son Geonwoo caught on immediately—Jiwon didn’t like Choi Minjae.

“You don’t like Minjae-hyung?”

“What? Why would I?”

He feigned innocence.

“It’s so obvious.”

“It’s not like that.”

He waved it off.

“Well, if you say so, hyung.”

Son Geonwoo raised both hands and smiled.

Fuck. His insides were burning.

Should I not have trusted that cop so easily?

Should I have had at least a sliver of doubt?

Jiwon wasn’t the type to dwell on the past—but this time, he couldn’t help it.

Beeeep—

Suddenly, a mechanical tone rang out.

“The scheduled team activities from 7 p.m. have been canceled. All crew, please report to the main auditorium.”

Gwak Hyesung had been expelled.

****

At the same time everyone was gathering in the auditorium, medical staff entered Room 205.

First, they checked for signs of death.

The doctor carefully examined the still-warm body.

“He’s dead. We’ll have to do an autopsy to be sure, but it looks like shock-induced death for now.”

The carpet was filthy with vomit.

“Are we sure he didn’t eat something bad? Could’ve choked to death on the vomit, right?”

Manager Kim asked, trying to calm his irritation.

“No. The vomiting happened during convulsions. You see the foam around the mouth?”

The doctor replied, slightly annoyed.

“Goddamn it. Did nobody check his allergy report?”

He lashed out at Deputy Manager Jung Hyeonwook, who was just standing nearby.

“Of course we did. Nothing unusual came up.”

“Then why the fuck is he like this?”

“Even if the tests come back clean, you know nothing’s ever one hundred percent.”

As if anyone didn’t know that.

“And knowing that, you just left him like this?”

Manager Kim practically shrieked, on the verge of hysteria.

Deputy Jung flinched and bowed his head with an oh shit look.

“I... we were monitoring, but...”

“Bullshit. Monitoring, my ass. Clean this up!”

He barked at the cleanup team that had accompanied them.

They swiftly wrapped the corpse in sheets and stuffed it, along with the used towels and a shower gown, into a large plastic container.

“Fucking hell. What a fucking jinx.”

Manager Kim looked like he’d spit if he could.

“Jung. Bring the one from the basement.”

“Uh, about that, sir... There’s no sailor left.”

“What do you mean, no? There were three!”

He counted them every day. This was bullshit.

Fucking useless so-called field agents.

He clicked his tongue.

“There was one, but it’s gone now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Manager Kim exploded.

“Well, actually... the CEO, yesterday—”

“Which CEO?”

“CEO Gwak Jun...”

Jung trailed off, watching Kim’s expression.

Manager Kim’s brow furrowed. Why the hell is that bastard’s name popping up here?

“What about the CEO?”

“He said he just wanted to drop by to check on the kids...”

“Jung. Just tell me the point.”

His voice was ice cold.

“He... he hit him.”

Sigh. No wonder the Chairman hated that bastard.

If he forced his way into this project, he should’ve stayed quiet—but instead, he ran around like he owned the place. Clueless about the Chairman and Director Gwak Tan breathing down his neck.

“And you just watched him?”

He knew full well Jung had no choice but to watch. Still, he took it out on him anyway.

“I didn’t think he’d actually go that far.”

Jung nodded so frantically it looked like he might kiss the floor.

“Jesus fuck. I’m gonna lose it. How bad is it?”

“No external injuries, thankfully...”

Kim shot him a glare.

“...There’s bruising on his face.”

Jung confessed.

“The doctor said it’ll take at least a week to heal... I’m sorry.”

Manager Kim let out a deep sigh.

Which meant only one choice remained.

Of course, he’d need the Chairman’s approval—but he’d have to approve it now.

“Keep that kid under tight control. We might need him in a week. And tell CEO Gwak Jun he’s restricted from accessing Basement Level 1. I’m cutting off his access starting now.”

“Sir? You want me to tell him that?”

Jung looked panicked.

“You want this getting back to the Chairman?”

“N-No, sir.”

“Even your keycard won’t get you down there now. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

Jung answered in a voice that sounded like he was already dead.

By then, every trace of Gwak Hyesung—down to the blankets and bedding—had been erased. The last two janitors began rolling up the carpet that had been soaked with vomit.

Manager Kim stood and watched until the cleaning was finished, then finally left Room 205.

His head throbbed just thinking about the report.

Forget the Chairman—how was he going to deal with Director Gwak Tan’s violent temper?

Ugh. He shook his head hard.