Secretary Gwanggong's Survival Diary-Chapter 8

The room that had been a complete warzone just moments ago fell into a heavy silence. My mouth, which had been spitting out nonsense threats and fake persuasion, shut tight. And so did Kim Daehyun’s, who had been flailing around like a rabid dog. The only sound left was one made by Yoon Taeo alone.

Hiss—

The quiet burn of his cigarette was the only thing that could be heard, the silence so thick it made even that sound ring loud.

Outside the room, the security team had already formed a blockade like a wall. Inside, it was just me, Kim Daehyun, Security Team 3’s leader, and Yoon Taeo.

“Take it off.”

“...What?”

The voice that broke the long silence came from Taeo, and it made Kim Daehyun blurt out a confused question. I was just as baffled. Even for a psycho, asking someone to strip at a moment like this was...

Maybe I’d need to vacate the room soon for some private time between him and Kim Daehyun.

“Still... I mean, here... I’m injured, hyung...”

The pitiful whine that came out of Kim Daehyun’s mouth, standing next to me, almost made me snap. Gone was the arrogant bastard who’d sneered at me earlier. He sounded so weak and pathetic that even I started to feel like the villain in this situation.

But Taeo didn’t answer. Just sat there, cigarette smoke curling up like fog.

With what looked like resignation, Kim Daehyun slowly began undoing the buttons of his shirt, stained and stuck with blood. His trembling fingers—whether from pain or fear—made him look tragically fragile. This bastard really was something else. I started getting the sinking feeling that I might end up taking the fall for cracking open his skull.

“Not you. I meant Secretary Kim.”

“...It’s Secretary Baek, actually.”

The correction slipped out reflexively. But now wasn’t the time to nitpick—

“That’s what I said. Take it off, Secretary Baek. Do I really have to repeat myself, again and again? It’s fucking annoying.”

“M-Me? Wait, why do I have to...”

The irritation laced into Yoon Taeo’s low, growling voice triggered something primal in me. Still babbling questions I didn’t understand myself, I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it to the floor. Then I started undoing my shirt buttons, one by one, quickly.

“...That’s enough.”

Wait—was he really going to make me strip completely? Why me? My hands, frozen in the middle of the motion, stopped instantly at that curt command.

That’s when Yoon Taeo finally moved from his spot on the couch.

“P-President! This is... I just made a bad call for a second, that’s all! It’s true Daehyun’s head cracked open, but he’s actually... he’s mostly fine! R-Right, Daehyun?!”

Obviously, anyone could see that this scammer bastard was anything but fine. Whether the booze had worn off or just his survival instincts kicked in, Kim Daehyun looked like he was about to pass out, his already narrow shoulders curling in tighter and tighter, swaying like he might fall any moment.

“Hyung... it’s true... I was being threatened... I didn’t have a choice... sniff...”

Did he prep that in advance? Kim Daehyun began offering a sob story nobody asked for. He cried, claiming he’d been harassed by loan sharks, how his tiny debt had snowballed from the interest, and how they threatened him every single day.

“Sniff... Still, I shouldn’t have done that to you, hyung... I-I just lost it for a second...”

Ah. That’s it. Game over.

Tears rolled down Kim Daehyun’s blood-cleaned face. And whether it was because he was genuinely a mess or because he looked like a mess, even I—who knew this was all bullshit—had to admit he looked like someone worth pitying. Objectively speaking, anyway.

“...I’m sorry, sir...”

Overkill? I’d nearly gotten a new airhole sliced into my throat, but none of that mattered anymore. Yoon Taeo stood in front of me, still motionless, one hand in his pocket, cigarette smoldering. His presence alone radiated pressure.

Saying anything bad about Kim Daehyun now wouldn’t help me at all. That much was obvious.

“I made a ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) mistake.”

Maybe it was because I was an Omega. Or maybe it was just that the pheromone suppressant I took this morning had worn off by now. But I could feel the sharp energy pouring off Yoon Taeo’s body. Like raw Alpha pheromones, completely unfiltered. I couldn’t even meet his eyes, but the moment I bowed my head, my body started to tremble on its own. Maybe it was just fear.

“You should know this by now. I hate when my belongings get damaged the most. Don’t you, Secretary Baek?”

...Was that the first time?

The first time Yoon Taeo ever called me by my actual name?

Should I just get on my knees and beg for my life?

His voice came out low and dry, with no visible emotion—but I could tell. His mood was at rock bottom.

“...I’ll accept whatever punishment you decide.”

It was meaningless. I knew better than anyone that a few words couldn’t sway Yoon Taeo’s judgment. And honestly, if I could, I’d run away from here right now. But I had zero chance of getting past the Security Team 3 leader blocking the entrance. Not to mention the entire hallway outside was lined with them too.

“Hyung... it wasn’t his fault... It’s all mine...”

And just like that—I became the villain. The villain who tried to kill a guy over a minor “mistake.” Kim Daehyun’s voice, soaked in fake emotion, made it clear there was no escape from this trap I’d walked into.

“You’ll have to take responsibility.”

The weight in Yoon Taeo’s voice sounded like a final judgment. I looked up. His eyes were still locked on me. And they were far more vicious than Kim Daehyun’s blood-drenched ones had ever been.

“I said—you’ll take responsibility.”

Yoon Taeo answered himself, then flicked the stub of his cigarette to the floor. He slipped the watch off his wrist—a watch that probably cost somewhere in the billions—and instead of setting it down, he slid it across the back of his hand and curled his fingers into a fist.

That hand suddenly looked massive.

Just one punch from that thing could snap a neck. Add the weight of that luxury watch, and it’d hurt like hell—probably way beyond imagination.

I’d been forcing strength into legs that kept wanting to give out, biting hard on my lower lip as I braced for whatever punishment was about to fall on me—

THUD!

A heavy, bone-shaking impact rang out so loud it felt like it might rupture my eardrums.

But the pain I expected never came.

“Where do you think you're putting your hands, you arrogant fuck.”

That fist—slammed directly into the center of Kim Daehyun’s face.

It was a massive movement.

It happened just one step in front of me, yet I barely caught it with my eyes. If that fist had landed on me instead, there’s no way I could’ve dodged it. Same went for Kim Daehyun. frёeωebɳovel.com

The moment the punch collided with that smug face of his, Daehyun went flying like a paper doll and smashed against the wall.

“A-AAGH!”

His scream came a beat late, a second after the crash. He didn’t even try to recover—just cradled his face in both hands, unleashing a guttural moan.

“H-Hyung...! I told you, that bastard was trying to kill me...!”

Even now, the mask wasn’t completely off. Kim Daehyun was still trying to squeeze out sympathy, his face soaked in tears and blood, reaching for any sliver of compassion Yoon Taeo might have.

“Did I give a bad order?”

“...Sorry?”

But Taeo—like he was filtering out Daehyun’s voice entirely—never took his eyes off me.

My brain had practically shut down from the shock of what had just happened, so it took me a second to register what he meant. And then—thunk—the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist dropped to the floor like it didn’t matter.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to go home and rest, Secretary Kim.”

Shhhhk—

The fabric around my forearm ripped. The sleeve, once white but now somewhere between crimson and filth, was torn off—revealing the shallow slash the knife had left behind. Taeo grabbed near the wound with his bare hand.

“...I—I’m sorry...”

I didn’t even know what for, but the apology came out on reflex. Honestly, it was less about social cues and more about the unbearable pain that shot up my arm from where he was pressing down. It felt like he might rip the whole damn thing off.

He stayed like that for a moment, then pulled the sleeve free and wrapped it tightly around my exposed forearm. Too tightly. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to stop the bleeding or just kill the limb off entirely.

“Open your shirt.”

“...My shirt...?”

Still didn’t make sense. Taeo’s cryptic way of talking really hit different today. Half in a daze, I spread the already half-unbuttoned front open a bit more. The hand that had been on my arm moved this time to brush down my neck.

“Guh—!”

The moment his hand grazed a certain spot, a sharp, searing pain made me gasp. He stopped abruptly, and I had to bite down hard just to keep from groaning again. One wrong sound, and he might grip my neck the same way he had my arm—hard enough to crush it.

“You need to be punished, Secretary Kim.”

“...Baek—yes, sir.”

He got my name right once—then messed it up again. I almost spoke up, but in the end, just agreed.

My brain was still short-circuiting.

The moment I answered obediently, Taeo’s stare—one that looked like it could tear me limb from limb—finally pulled away. So did his hand.