Secretary Gwanggong's Survival Diary-Chapter 7

Still, maybe those two women had some sense left in them, because the moment they saw what was in my hand—something not quite a weapon but close enough—they ran out ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) of the room, practically naked, holding the palm-sized clothes they hadn’t even managed to put on.

“Hey! You didn’t even pay! You’re not getting a damn dime if you leave like that, just so you know!”

Even Kim Daehyun’s irritated shout didn’t stop them. The bastard really had no grasp of the situation.

“Daehyun-ah, what the hell is this...”

“And who the fuck are you? How do you know my name?”

I’d heard, vaguely, that Kim Daehyun was supposed to be quiet and delicate. And yeah... his build was kind of slender for a Beta. Same could be said for his dick, probably. But his appearance aside, his expression and tone didn’t match any of those descriptors like “quiet” or “delicate.” He looked exactly like the kind of sleazy thug you'd find in a red-light district.

“Louis XIII... Macallan... You’ve lost your fucking mind, Daehyun. Do you even have money...?”

The liquor bottles rolling around on the floor were outrageous. Price tags high enough to make you choke. One glance at the pile of credit card bills stacked at home made it obvious: he either tried to charge it all to Yoon Taeo’s card—or already had.

“The fuck are you, asshole?!”

Apparently, he’d sobered up a bit—he was putting on a shirt and pants. I considered jumping him while he was getting dressed and smashing his head in, but since I had no clue how Yoon Taeo currently felt about him, I had to bring him back without a scratch.

“I’m from MK Capital... you know that place, right? The company owned by CEO Yoon Taeo—the guy whose card you stole and ran off with.”

“So what? After all the time I put up with his shit, he owes me this much, doesn’t he? You know how fucking hard it was to pretend I liked that bastard?”

That cold, prickling feeling I’d had since walking into this room only got worse. My memory of Kim Daehyun came back, and seeing him in person made it clear—he wasn’t remotely the kind of guy Taeo would fall for.

“So you were a scammer from the start... Were you planning a big con, but couldn’t figure out how to finish it?”

There really are all kinds of freaks in this world. No matter how brain-dead you are, how the hell do you look at Yoon Taeo’s face and think, I’m gonna scam this guy? That face alone would make you piss yourself just from eye contact. God... Money’s really terrifying. It straight-up shuts off your brain.

“I don’t usually go for guys chasing me from behind, you know.”

“Well, you weren’t all that good from the front either.”

At my snide remark, Kim Daehyun’s face twisted, and he grabbed a crystal glass and hurled it. Still clearly not in his right mind—he missed by a mile, and it shattered against the far wall.

“Let’s just go quietly, Daehyun-ah. I’m way too fucking tired to fight right now.”

“What the fuck is wrong with this lunatic—!”

Thunk!

The blunt thud cut him off. I’d hurled the broken champagne bottle I was holding at the wall, just inches from his face.

“That was on purpose. You don’t get a second warning.”

I picked up a crystal ashtray from the table. That was the next one. Though honestly, maybe I was just poking the bear.

“Hah... I don’t know where the hell you crawled out from, but don’t fucking regret this.”

His expression shifted. Like he’d just found his balls or something. He shoved a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a pitch-black object. Chak!—with a metallic click, a gleaming blade snapped out. So that’s where the confidence was coming from.

“I’m better at this kind of thing than I look, you know?”

“...It shows, Daehyun-ah.”

What a third-rate thug. He’d fit right in with the garbage in a dark alley somewhere.

He fixed his eyes on me and started closing the distance, gripping the knife in a reverse grip. I stepped back slowly. Watching how deftly he held that thing, the heavy crystal ashtray in my hand suddenly felt pathetic.

“Fine, I’ll pretend I didn’t see what you charged on the card. Let’s just call it severance pay, okay?”

“No thanks. Wasn’t planning to pay it back anyway.”

Yeah, we weren’t planning to get it back either. Even as I tried to buy time, Daehyun kept slowly advancing. The knife still aimed right at me, and I had to make a choice.

Die here, stabbed by Kim Daehyun’s knife—or injure him and get killed by Yoon Taeo.

He was closing in fast. I finally got a good look at his eyes in the dim light, and it was obvious he wasn’t in his right mind. Maybe it was just me, but I could practically feel the killing intent.

Five steps... three... and then one. freёnovelkiss.com

“Die, you fucker!”

Honestly, it wasn’t even a hard decision. Whether he stabbed me, or I let him go, I was probably dead either way. Hurting him might also get me killed. But might is the key word—it’s just a possibility. Not a certainty.

Well... if Yoon Taeo still has feelings for Kim Daehyun, then yeah, hurting him means I’m 100% dead.

CRACK!

As he swung the knife with a big, clumsy motion, I hurled the ashtray. It hit him square on the head with a sickening crack. The moment it connected, something popped, and his body—just inches from mine—went flying to the floor.

And then... bright red blood started soaking the floor in an instant.

“D-Daehyun-ah...!”

...I’m fucked. I think I actually killed him.

I rushed over to where Kim Daehyun lay sprawled out like a corpse. Pressing a hand to his chest—thank god, he wasn’t dead. But his head had split open worse than I thought. Thick, bright red blood was gushing out.

“...Urgh... fuck...”

The way the skin tore and puffed up around the wound, the way the blood splashed all over his face and the floor—it was disgusting. Even if I was the one who caused it, I had to swallow my gag reflex while grabbing a wet towel from the floor and pressing it to his head to stop the bleeding.

I wanted to not give a shit whether he lived or died, but... the fear came creeping in. Just imagining Yoon Taeo going ballistic over the state Daehyun was in made my stomach twist.

“Fuck, I’m seriously losing it... How the hell did he get hit that cleanly...”

There was nothing I could do now that it had happened. I was pressing the towel with one hand, and with the other, I reached into my jacket pocket to grab my phone—

“...Huh...?”

Just above the elbow of the arm that had been pressing down to stop the bleeding—a sharp pain struck while I let my guard down. The strength drained from the hand I’d been using to press against Kim Daehyun’s busted forehead.

“D-Die... you fucking bastard!”

I’d thought he was unconscious, but Kim Daehyun was staring straight at me with his eyes wide open. I couldn’t tell if they were bloodshot from the actual blood or if he was just forcing them open out of sheer rage, but the whites of his eyes were stained red, giving him the look of some kind of demon. And before I could even react, my body—on top of him just seconds ago—was flipped in an instant, my vision spinning.

“Agh! Fuck, my fucking head!”

The way Kim Daehyun screamed, you’d think getting his skull cracked had somehow cleared his mind. Honestly, he seemed more lucid now than before it happened—like the sheer overload of pain had snapped him back to sanity.

“G-Guh...! D-Daehyun-ah... m-my neck—!”

He climbed onto my chest and grabbed for my throat with rough hands. My phone had already long slipped from my grasp, and no matter how much I flailed and clawed at his arms, the choke only tightened.

“What? It’s fine for my fucking head to get cracked open, but your precious little neck’s off limits? Don’t move. Unless you want it sliced.”

My hands stopped struggling. Partly because his grip loosened just a bit, but also because that waterfall of blood dripping from his face was now falling in thick drops—onto mine.

“Daehyun-ah, let’s just talk this out—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

And the most important reason I froze: the pocketknife he was holding had just touched my neck. The blade’s edge scraped the skin like it was about to press straight in. Even just brushing it gave a stinging sensation—it wasn’t a bluff.

“Come on, MK Capital’s CEO has money, doesn’t he? Didn’t he say he liked me? Can’t spare this much? Ah! You’re one of his employees too, right? Let’s split your paycheck while we’re at it. Sound good?”

If demons actually existed, this fucker would be one of greed. Watching his blood-slick face sneer made me want to puke all over again. And all the while, he was laughing like an idiot, rifling through my pockets. With every move he made, the knife dug just a little deeper against my neck, and I couldn’t risk flinching.

“What, this is it?”

Just a dozen or so 50,000-won bills. Money Taeo had handed me that morning after I dropped him off—told me to go get checked at the hospital. This piece of shit with thousands in debt had the gall to look down on nearly half a million won. I’d correct him on that point later. First, I had to keep my head attached.

“...Okay! Just take it and go, Daehyun-ah... Ugh...!”

“Of course I’m taking it, dumbass.”

Kim Daehyun stuffed the blood-soaked bills into his pocket and flashed a lunatic grin.

“Well then, goodbye, errand boy.”

I guess blood had gotten in his mouth too—his teeth, when he smiled, were dyed red. It only made the whole thing more terrifying.

“Daehyun-ah, can we just—”

The moment he pulled the knife away from my neck, he raised it high, past his shoulder. I didn’t even need to guess where it was going to land. With both my arms pinned under his knees, there was no escaping it.

I couldn’t bring myself to watch the blade stab through my throat—so I closed my eyes. I figured this was the end.

But even after what felt like a long time, no pain came.

Ah... maybe this is it. They say time slows down right before death, like your whole life flashes before your eyes. That kind of thing.

But this silence was dragging on way too long for that. Suspiciously long. So I cracked my eyelids open.

“Secretary Kim. What do you think you’re doing?”

And when I saw the scene in front of me—I wanted to shut my eyes again.

“...P-President...?”

Kim Daehyun was still on top of me. But behind him stood Yoon Taeo. One hand gripped Daehyun’s wrist—the one holding the knife—and the other rested calmly on Daehyun’s head.

His face was unreadable. Cold. Like he felt absolutely nothing.

But I knew better.

I’d been watching long enough to tell—

Yoon Taeo was on the verge of exploding.