Survive! Gwanggong!

“This time, it’s not a question, not a greeting, and I’m not just worried either. Something’s going on, isn’t there?”

“There is. I’m sure of it.”

< You’ve been hit with a critical question! Gwanggong Score has dropped by 2 points. >

After hearing Seung-hyeon’s words, Seon-woo racked his brain for a long while. It seemed like he had caught on to something, but since he hadn’t pinpointed exactly what it was, the situation was murky. If he confessed everything as is, it’d feel like he was falling for a baited question. But flat-out denial wasn’t an option either—there was something fishy going on that he couldn’t quite cover up.

▶ “I have no idea what kind of bullshit you’re spouting this time.”

▶ “You’re getting better by the day at pissing people off—should I call that a skill too?”

▶ “Looks like you’re in the mood to spout nonsense again.”

The system offered only slightly varied choices, so Seon-woo decided to go with the system’s recommendation and play dumb for now.

“Looks like you’re in the mood to spout nonsense again.”

His voice was cold, but Seung-hyeon didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He looked Seon-woo dead in the eyes and casually shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure you know better than anyone that something’s off with you lately, Director.”

“What exactly do you think is so strange?”

Honestly, there were too many things he felt guilty about. After all, he had woken up in someone else’s body overnight—he had no right to call any of this normal. Seung-hyeon, as if he had anticipated Seon-woo’s guarded response, smiled unbothered.

“If I had to point out exactly what’s different…”

A sharp pang of anxiety jabbed at his chest, but showing it would mean admitting Seung-hyeon was right. Seon-woo tilted his head as if to say, Go ahead. I’m listening.

“First of all—this might be the most trivial thing—but lately, you’ve been strangely interested in Assistant Manager Seo Eun-jae. I’ve mentioned it before, remember?”

Seung-hyeon had brought up Eun-jae once before too, while giving Seon-woo a ride. What had he said back then? It hadn’t been that long ago, so he quickly recalled his own reaction—he had grilled Seung-hyeon harshly, demanding to know if he had some kind of relationship with Eun-jae.

Seon-woo studied Seung-hyeon with a probing gaze. Was he bringing up Seo Eun-jae because he really was interested in him? Or was he simply suspicious of Seon-woo and keeping a watchful eye? According to the character summary provided by the system, Gwak Seung-hyeon in the original story had a one-sided crush on Seo Eun-jae and acted as a rival to the Gwanggong.

But the way he treated Eun-jae made Seon-woo question that. Did that look like the attitude of someone nursing a secret crush? Maybe he was just the type who didn’t show affection on the surface. It could’ve been a smokescreen—pretending not to care while watching from afar. Still, since Seon-woo himself wasn’t the type to get invested in other people’s love lives, all he could see was a man who didn’t seem interested at all.

Rather, it seemed like Seung-hyeon’s real interest was focused on Gwak Seon-woo—on him.

They weren’t even close cousins, just barely acquainted, and considering how unbearably unpleasant the Gwanggong’s usual attitude was, it was unlikely that Seung-hyeon’s attention was out of any sort of goodwill.

While Seon-woo was still deep in thought, the system once again shoved a set of options at him—each one brimming with petty irritation.

▶ “Team Leader Gwak Seung-hyeon, do you and Seo Eun-jae really have something going on?”

▶ “Do you seriously think you’re in any position to be talking about Seo Eun-jae with your own damn mouth?”

The system flying off the handle every time Seo Eun-jae’s name came up was honestly kind of funny, but Seon-woo wasn’t exactly in a place to be amused. After all, he was the one who’d actually have to say those lines out loud.

He didn’t even have the energy to properly read through and choose carefully anymore. A quick glance told him the second option had the nastier tone. Still, the first one sounded too much like some jealous loser throwing a tantrum—so the second one seemed like the lesser evil.

“Do you seriously think you’re in any position to be talking about Seo Eun-jae with your own—”

“Sorry to cut you off.”

Seung-hyeon cut in with an expression that didn’t look the least bit sorry. Who the hell apologizes while they’re interrupting? Not even afterward—during. Seon-woo, not particularly eager to finish that line anyway, simply shut his mouth.

Seung-hyeon spoke again, slowly and deliberately.

“I did say that was the most trivial reason, didn’t I? Why are you grilling me about Assistant Manager Seo again? I’m not saying this because I’m close to him—I’m talking about you, Director.”

The logic was too airtight to even argue against. Seon-woo kept his mouth shut and waited for what came next.

“You seem uncomfortable, so I’ll drop the topic of Assistant Manager Seo. Second reason…You, who could pull multiple all-nighters without so much as a fever, suddenly collapsing like that.”

He had no sense of how robust the original Gwanggong’s body had been, but from Seung-hyeon’s reaction, clearly it had been absurdly strong. Seon-woo grimaced and turned away. Yeah… given those expectations, anyone would’ve thought something was seriously wrong when he suddenly passed out.

As he quietly studied Seon-woo’s expression, Seung-hyeon eventually continued, slowly.

“And lastly—this one’s the most important.”

The moment he heard that, Seon-woo tensed, his nerves on edge. Is this it? Is he about to say: “I know you’re not really the Gwanggong”…?

He braced himself, heart thudding.

But what came out of Seung-hyeon’s mouth was calm. So casual it almost felt anticlimactic.

“Lately, you’ve been way too kind to me.”

Silence followed.

Seung-hyeon smiled brightly, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

Seon-woo blinked, utterly dumbfounded, then asked in disbelief,

“What… did you just say?”

“You heard me perfectly well, so no need to ask again.”

Even as Seon-woo questioned him, Seung-hyeon remained unbothered. He didn’t bother to elaborate—in fact, he doubled down and confirmed that Seon-woo had heard right.

Seon-woo thought back over his actions from the past few days.

From the very first time he’d met Seung-hyeon, he’d greeted him with a string of verbal abuse, ignored his hellos, tossed a sandwich he’d kindly bought straight into the trash—just the usual. He wouldn’t have been able to get through a conversation without provoking a fight, like some spiteful jerk who couldn’t function unless he was picking a fight.

And now this guy was saying… he’d been kind?

As if he knew exactly what was going through Seon-woo’s head, Seung-hyeon continued, calm and collected.

“You don’t remember?”

“…Let’s hear the reasoning behind that ridiculous claim.”

As soon as Seon-woo spoke, Seung-hyeon jumped at the chance to respond.

“Back then, even the slightest offense would get you to slap me across the face. But lately, you’ve just… said a few words. You haven’t even raised a hand to me.

And usually, if I so much as opened my mouth, you’d throw something at me. If I dodged it, you’d get even more pissed off, remember?”

But these past few days, it’s like you’ve been deliberately missing when you throw stuff.

And honestly, when I offered to take you home or take care of you… if it were the usual you, you’d probably say you’d rather die than accept my help. Or maybe you’d call the cops and try to have me arrested for breaking and entering.”

By this point, Seon-woo couldn’t help but wonder:

What kind of fucked-up life did this Gwanggong guy even live…?

As Seon-woo found himself seriously reflecting on misdeeds he hadn’t even committed, Seung-hyeon still wasn’t done. He pressed on.

“Anyway… you’re just different. Everything you say to me lately. Even your expressions.”

There it was again. That talk about his expressions.

Ever since he’d ended up in this body, even his facial muscles refused to cooperate. Even when he felt genuine guilt, his face would still twist into that same cold, sneering smirk. So what expression was Seung-hyeon even talking about? Seon-woo sighed and replied.

“Who says a person has to act the same way forever? Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Maybe so.”

The easy acceptance made Seon-woo keep going.

“It’s not like I’m forbidden from caring about others, not like I’ve got to go through life never getting sick, and I sure as hell don’t have to keep acting like an asshole ‘til the day I die.

And you’re really gonna make this big a deal over that little change?”

It sounded, even to his own ears, like a somewhat reasonable argument. No one would seriously think a person was completely different just because their attitude softened a bit. Maybe that was enough of an excuse to get by.

But Seung-hyeon’s expression remained clouded with suspicion.

When Seon-woo met his gaze, feeling uneasy, the other man slowly spoke.

“You gave me your passcode.”

“…What about it?”

“We both know what those numbers mean, don’t we?”

He didn’t.

“If nothing had really happened to you, Director… I don’t think you would’ve ever given me that number.”

A cold sweat trickled down Seon-woo’s back as he shut his eyes tightly.