Substitute Chapter 93

Before Jiwon could even tense up, Gwak Chan ca out. Surprisingly, his expression was relaxed.

“It’s nothing. Just those son of a bitches posturing.”

If you left out the part with son of a bitches, it was the sa sentint Nam Kyuwon had shared.

From Gwak Chan’s expression alone, it really did seem like nothing. And since he’d used the plural son of a bitches, it also ant he’d t more than one person inside the counseling room.

Gwak Chan looked like he had more to say, but when he saw Number 3 still sitting beside Jiwon, he left without another word.

Wild Dog 6.

Finally, Choi Minjae was called in. Even after hearing Gwak Chan say it was nothing, Choi Minjae looked like livestock being dragged to the slaughterhouse.

What kind of grown man’s got such a tiny pair of balls?

It was enough to make Jiwon doubt whether he’d received any proper undercover training before coming in here.

Jiwon just hoped Choi Minjae wouldn’t run his mouth and say anything stupid.

Now it was only Jiwon and Number 3 left.

“Nervous?”

Number 3 asked.

“Well, a little.”

“Is the only Sailor you?”

Number 3 glanced down the empty corridor as he spoke.

“Seems that way.”

Jiwon also sneaked a glance down the hallway.

There really wasn’t anyone else. He was probably the last one scheduled for counseling.

If it was because he’d protected Lee Jihoon, he’d go in any ti without complaint—but it didn’t feel like that was the reason.

Of all tis, it had to be right after Gwak Chan and Choi Minjae. That made him uneasy, though he wasn’t outright trembling with anxiety.

Either way, if he got found out, he was fucked; if not, then great—that was the situation.

Then, belatedly—

“Oh, right. Thanks for yesterday.”

He gave Number 3 his thanks.

“Actually, that’s why I stopped by your room. Just to say that.”

Number 3 gave a short laugh.

“Don’t people tell you all the ti you’re oblivious?”

Jiwon raised a brow at the cryptic comnt.

“I thought you ca because you wanted to see . I’m disappointed.”

Number 3 made no effort to hide that he was sulking.

Jiwon knew he was doing it on purpose, but it still looked cute.

Kid really had a way of playing people like a yo-yo, Jiwon thought, smiling inwardly.

“Aren’t you going to make it up to ?”

Number 3 demanded without sha.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

He feigned ignorance.

“Say what I want to hear.”

That line suddenly brought back a mory from his dating days.

‘Yoon Jiwon! How can you not say the one thing I want to hear? Ugh, you clueless bear.’

Was it four years ago? About a month into dating—his girlfriend had changed her hairstyle and he hadn’t noticed. They’d spent six whole hours together that day, too. She got completely sulky, and he’d sweated bullets trying to make it up to her. He’d tried everything he could think of, only to end up getting scolded even more.

He wasn’t even in a relationship with Number 3, yet here he was rembering that mont—and that unsettled him.

Part of it was because the other person happened to be so young guy he’d t in this perverted Party, but what really shook him was the fact that he didn’t exactly mind the situation. If anything, he was enjoying it.

For soone supposedly desperate, he was taking this way too easy—and a pang of guilt ca with that. But another part of him thought, I’m going to die anyway. Might as well enjoy what I can.

“Co on, say it.”

Number 3 leaned his face in close to Jiwon’s.

“What, it’s not worth that much to you?”

Persistent.

Jiwon gave a short laugh and said—

“I did co because I wanted to see you.”

He gave him the words he wanted to hear.

Number 3’s lips curled up into a bright smile, the kind that made him dazzlingly handso.

His heart thumped hard.

Must be a gift from God before I die, Jiwon decided.

“And how co you’re not asking if I’m okay?”

This ti, Jiwon pretended to sulk.

“Guess that ans I only care about sex.”

“Oh, my back, my waist—”

Jiwon groaned dramatically.

Number 3 burst out laughing.

“You can take a beating, though.”

He gave Jiwon a once-over with a mocking tone.

“Yeah, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) well, who told you to do it?”

Now Number 3 was the one grumbling.

Guess yesterday’s events had really gotten under his skin.

“Doesn’t look it, but you’ve got a tiny-ass temper. Bet you hear that a lot.”

When Jiwon teased him, Number 3 said, “Forget it,” and crossed his arms, turning his body slightly so his back faced Jiwon.

Damn, that’s a wide back.

Jiwon chuckled to himself at the thought.

“I was gonna go get a snack...”

He smacked his lips like he regretted it, offering the carrot instead of the stick.

Number 3 imdiately straightened up and said, “That tiny temper thing sounds like you,” giving him a playful nudge. He matched the mood without overdoing it.

Number 3 wasn’t just smooth-talking—he had natural empathy and an instinctive sense for people.

Guy’s never going to starve.

Jiwon smiled inwardly.

“So you’re not going? You just gonna sit here?”

“When Sailor goes in.”

Number 3 nodded toward the counseling room, then leaned back in his chair.

He stretched out his legs and arched his back in a long stretch.

No more conversation followed. They sat in silence the whole ti, but it didn’t feel awkward.

It took a little longer than Gwak Chan’s turn, but finally, the counseling room door opened. Choi Minjae didn’t even glance in Jiwon’s direction—just bolted like he was running for his life.

Jiwon watched him go and shook his head.

“Sailor 1. Co in.”

At the call, Jiwon stood.

“Make sure you stop by.”

Number 3 looked up at him as he spoke—and then deliberately pulled back his shower gown, like he ant to use his cock as a weapon.

The exposed thing looked downright appetizing.

And it wasn’t just his cock—those big, solid hands clutching the gown, the bare thighs, the abs... not a single flaw in sight.

Jiwon swallowed.

“We’ll see.”

He gave that answer and stepped into the counseling room, forcing himself not to laugh from Number 3’s antics.

It was just counseling.

Hadn’t he already practiced interrogations hundreds of tis, accounting for every possible torture scenario?

Jiwon steadied himself with that thought.

Gwak Tan yawned so wide it looked like his jaw might split. After barely sleeping all night, he was dead on his feet.

Normally, he’d go straight ho and crash, but right now, he had sothing to take care of first. One last task, then he’d head straight for bed.

Earlier this morning, on his way to beat the crap out of his cousin Gwak Jun, he’d been summoned by his grandfather. The old man knew exactly where he was going, yet ordered him to turn back imdiately.

That wasn’t all—he’d called an ergency eting in the middle of the night.

Every HQ manager, starting with Manager Kim, was summoned.

Only then did Gwak Tan grasp the seriousness of the situation, and he turned his car around without argunt—over three hours’ round trip.

Naturally, he was the last to arrive at the eting.

Contrary to his expectation, Gwak Jun wasn’t there—only the administrators.

If it was important enough to call a eting at this hour, why leave that bastard out?

Frowning, Gwak Tan took his seat. A yellow file lay on the table in front of him.

Before he could even open it, Deputy Chief Lee Daeseong—monkey-faced—stepped up in front of the 85-inch screen. Section Chief Park Taehun, in horn-rimd glasses, clicked the mouse, and CCTV footage appeared on the display.

It was the exact sa footage Gwak Tan had received in a report three hours earlier.

The rat’s image played, then froze.

“There’s sothing we badly overlooked,” Lee said in a grave tone.

“This.”

The image zood in on the shadow’s arms.

Gwak Tan leaned forward, staring hard.

What the fuck am I supposed to be looking at?

“There’s no bracelet.”

At those words, his eyes went wide.

Oh!

There really wasn’t a bracelet. In the crystal-clear footage—shockingly clear for sothing shot in the middle of the night—the shadow wasn’t wearing one.

“We didn’t notice until the Chairman pointed it out. We’re truly sorry.”

Lee bowed his head. The other administrators followed suit.

“We have no excuse, Chairman.”

Manager Kim apologized again.

Fuck. Gwak Tan twisted his neck from side to side.

Then he pointed at the screen.

“It’s the sa guy, right?”

It had to be.

If there were two, not one, it ant their security had been completely breached.

“That’s our working assumption.”

“Working assumption?”

He forced down his temper and pressed.

“As you know, sir, his movents are highly unusual. Not a single shot of him standing upright. And he’s placed flesh-colored tape in various spots to hide physical features.”

“And?”

“That makes identification extrely tricky. But the assessnt is that it’s most likely the sa person.”

Manager Kim added that the analysis ca from the country’s best video forensics specialists.

“When he was first spotted, was he also without a bracelet?”

Back then, Gwak Tan had been so hyped about the rat’s appearance that he hadn’t even thought about bracelets. He’d assud, of course, that the intruder was one of the crew and thus wearing one—and had based all his deductions on that.

“That’s... not certain.”

Lee trailed off.

“You didn’t rewind the CCTV?”

He barked the question.

“I don’t care if the eting was sudden—you check basic things like that before you walk in here!”

Instead of answering, Lee looked over at Manager Kim.

Following his gaze, Gwak Tan turned his head toward him.

“It’s gone.”

“What is?”

“The original CCTV file.”

“What?”

Furious, Gwak Tan was about to hurl the file on the table when his grandfather cut in.

“The IT employee who colluded with Jun deleted all the old files before leaving. Luckily, so of the footage we’d sent to the analysis company remains, so we’re comparing it now.”

“Haah, fuck.”

Gwak Tan clenched his teeth.

“This is why I told you we should back it up to the cloud!”

He growled under his breath.

His grandfather fixed him with a contemptuous stare.

Realizing instantly what that ant, Gwak Tan quickly apologized.

Talking about clouds or whatever now would only sound like excuses. If he’d managed things properly in the first place, this never would’ve happened.

Besides, this was a project where no evidence could be left behind. He knew that better than anyone, yet he’d just tried to shift the bla.

Goddamn temper.

He squeezed his eyes shut, worried he’d fallen out of his grandfather’s favor.

Even so, resentnt still festered inside him. His grandfather’s blanket distrust of the cloud—when even the world’s top corporations used it—felt stubborn and outdated.

All materials related to the project were stored in a secret location only his grandfather could access. He didn’t trust the internet. CCTV and other video footage were always saved to hard drives and external drives; the crew’s personal files were all printed, filed, and boxed away. Cloud backup was out of the question.

It wasn’t because he was old-fashioned—if anything, it was because he knew the vulnerabilities of technology too well. If soone set their mind to it, they could crack the cloud.

That’s why, when Gwak Tan first proposed live streaming for this project, his grandfather had been vehently against it. Broadcasting video outside in real ti ant using external networks, and that ant there was always the possibility of being discovered.

Truthfully, any guest could record and save the screen if they wanted to, so the risk was high.

But Gwak Tan hadn’t given up—his ambition to grow the project through this experint was too great.

eting guests face to face and inviting them individually had its rits, but he also wanted to provide a space for wealthy, powerful guests who—for various reasons—couldn’t be invited in person. He was convinced keeping them sweet was an investnt in the future.

He’d argued passionately to his grandfather, stressing the safeguards: guests could only use laptops they provided, loaded with layers of security that would detect and block not only recording but also any sharing of the feed. He’d even demonstrated it himself.

It had taken every ounce of effort to finally win approval.

The live streams were only carried out after being reviewed and approved by the managers, then signed off by his grandfather as the final step.

But no matter how thorough your preparations, there were always gaps. Especially since Gwak Tan had secretly chosen three special guests to share the stream with—without telling his grandfather. If anything went wrong, he’d expected it to happen during streaming. He’d never imagined the hardware itself would be wiped out.

In the end, it ant that if soone was determined to destroy it all, they could take out his grandfather’s secret vault and all that hardware in one go.

All that precious stuff, just to be destroyed?

Fuck. People should have so flexibility.

This ti, the words I’m right and you’re wrong rose all the way to his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

Stubborn old bastard.

For all his respect toward his grandfather, he couldn’t help thinking it.