Survive! Gwanggong!

There was no need for a mirror to know that his expression had hardened.

Whenever it came to Gwak Seung-hyeon’s words, Seon-woo had a built-in system that defaulted to a deadpan reaction, and this time was no exception. But this time, Seung-hyeon was spouting even more nonsense than usual. Without meaning to, Seon-woo let out a scoff and turned to look at him, his expression practically screaming, “Why the hell would I?”

At least he had enough sense to be somewhat conscious of the people around him. It was fortunate that he hadn’t outright cursed at his team leader in front of their colleagues, demanding he say something that actually made sense. Just as he was about to reject the idea, Seo Eun-jae beat him to it.

“Would you like to come with us?”

“…What?”

“I’d really like it if you did, Director. Everyone would be happy.”

A moment ago, Eun-jae had been locked in a silent battle with Seung-hyeon. Now, it seemed the two had reached an agreement.

Hearing this, Seon-woo glanced around at the others’ faces.

‘Yeah, no. No one else thinks that except you two.’

Other than Eun-jae, who was practically sparkling with anticipation, and Seung-hyeon, who wore a sly grin, the rest of the team looked like they were about to pass out. But with the two main players of this situation backing each other up, it was hard to outright refuse.

To make matters worse, the system chimed in.

▶ …Sometimes, it’s not so bad.

▶ Well… then I guess I’ll go.

Looking at his options, Seon-woo suddenly recalled a conversation with his junior—a junior who had once told him that he was making a Gwanggong game. That junior was probably the very developer behind this game.

“Ugh, I’m so exhausted. And now there’s another company dinner tonight.”

“Can’t you just say you’re sick and skip it? Missing one day should be fine.”

“I wish. But the director’s coming, so I can’t bail.”

“The director? What, is something special happening?”

“Nope. He just always shows up. Our company’s small, so the atmosphere is… ugh, practically ‘family-like.’ Or maybe he’s just completely oblivious…!”

He could still vividly recall looking at his junior with a mixture of pity and sympathy.

It was odd that this particular memory surfaced now of all times, but one thought flashed through Seon-woo’s mind.

‘Dude, if you were already stuck drinking with your director every damn time, why the hell would you make a game where it happens too?’

Of course, there was no actual connection between his junior’s company director and this situation. But at this point, he just wanted something to blame.

Feeling the weight of everyone’s stares, Seon-woo reluctantly opened his mouth.

“Well… then I guess I’ll go.”

Even as he gave the expected response, his head was filled with nothing but a deep sense of resignation.

What kind of chaebol Gwanggong crashes someone else’s team dinner…?

It wasn’t like he was here to drink and party with them, either.

As Seon-woo grumbled internally, Gwak Seung-hyeon, who had been busy calming the murmuring crowd, spoke in an infuriatingly relaxed tone.

“Since it’s a special occasion, let’s have beef tonight.”

…Well, there was nothing he could do. The system had already decided.

He felt bad for the other team members, whose expressions darkened at the announcement, but there was no escaping it now. Seon-woo, resigned to his fate, eased his expression and blended into the group.

***

The moment he stepped into the barbecue restaurant with this unfamiliar team of office workers, he already felt queasy.

The place was clean, with a pleasant atmosphere—an ideal spot for a company dinner. But it didn’t suit him in the slightest. Someone like him, who looked like he should be dining at the best seat in a Michelin-starred restaurant with a private chef, stuck out like a sore thumb here.

The only ones unfazed by the situation were Gwak Seung-hyeon and Seo Eun-jae. The two had naturally claimed the seats on either side of Seon-woo. At first, they bickered over who would grill the meat, but in the end, they reached a compromise—each taking charge of a grill on opposite sides of the table.

Initially, the team members clammed up, stealing nervous glances at Seon-woo. But as the flames heated up and a few bottles of soju were passed around, the atmosphere gradually relaxed.

“Come to think of it, Kyung-chul, weren’t you planning to propose? You’ve been so busy lately, you probably haven’t had time to prepare anything.”

“Oh, I’m making progress! Now that the project’s wrapped up, I finally have some time, so I need to finish up quickly.”

Unintentionally eavesdropping on a near-stranger’s proposal plans, Seon-woo averted his gaze, feeling slightly awkward.

Meanwhile, Eun-jae, who had smoothly inserted himself into the conversation, suddenly leaned back and turned to Seon-woo.

“Director, do you like to drink?”

With nothing else to say, Seon-woo answered easily, “I wouldn’t say I enjoy it, but I don’t mind a glass.”

Eun-jae seemed unsure whether he should offer a drink or not. Considering the way Seon-woo had phrased it, ‘a glass’ probably referred to an aged vintage wine rather than a shot of soju at a barbecue joint.

Seon-woo briefly debated whether he should clarify that soju was fine, but before he could decide, the conversation about the employee’s proposal continued.

“Still, it’s a relief that things are going well for you, Kyung-chul.”

“It’s all thanks to the team leader.”

Out of nowhere, Seung-hyeon was dragged into the conversation. He momentarily paused in the middle of grilling meat and turned toward them.

Watching the exchange, Seon-woo found himself thinking that Seung-hyeon must be highly respected by his team. He also turned his gaze toward Kyung-chul—who suddenly jolted in alarm, as if realizing something.

“Oh, uh—of course, it’s thanks to you too, Director!”

For a brief moment, Seon-woo felt like the kind of petty superior who made people scramble to include him in their compliments.

At a loss for words, he remained silent. Just then, Seung-hyeon spoke up, saving him from the awkward situation.

“You prefer your meat on the rarer side, don’t you, Director?”

As Seung-hyeon spoke, he picked up the scissors, looking as if he was about to personally cut a piece of bloody beef for Seon-woo.

“Really?”

Eun-jae, who had been listening in, suddenly chimed in. His interruption was so seamless that it didn’t feel abrupt at all.

Seon-woo glanced at Eun-jae briefly before turning back to Seung-hyeon, caught in a dilemma.

In truth, no matter how high-quality the beef was, he wasn’t a fan of undercooked meat. But if this was what the Gwanggong preferred, could he really refuse? He was just about to give a half-hearted nod when—

▶ “No. I prefer it fully cooked.”

▶ ‘Who eats raw meat like that?’

Seon-woo hesitated.

It wasn’t that he suspected Seung-hyeon of lying about his tastes—nor did he think he had misspoken on purpose. And there was no way the system would offer a choice out of consideration for his actual preferences.

That left only one possibility.

‘Oh, so it just wants me to pick a fight with Gwak Seung-hyeon.’

He felt bad for making an issue out of nothing, but with no other choices, he had no choice but to say it—if only for the sake of his own palate.

“Who eats raw meat like that?”

Seung-hyeon furrowed his brows slightly, looking puzzled. The real collateral damage, however, was an employee at the next table.

“You’re supposed to eat beef when it’s still a little bloody—oh.”

“R-right, properly cooked meat tastes best.”

One of the employees, who had just picked up a piece of rare beef, visibly broke into a cold sweat and hastily put it back down.

Seon-woo quickly averted his gaze.

Seung-hyeon merely tilted his head and muttered, “Has your taste changed?” before letting the matter drop.

“Here, Director.”

Eun-jae, who had been waiting for the right moment, swiftly placed a perfectly cooked piece of beef onto Seon-woo’s plate.

On his left, Seung-hyeon shot him a look of disbelief, while on his right, Eun-jae responded with an innocent smile, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Caught between them, Seon-woo felt absurdly awkward. All he could do was pretend not to notice.

The dinner continued, and as the drinks flowed, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. By the time the grill had been mostly cleared, even Seon-woo had ended up drinking three or four shots of soju.

It had started with Eun-jae offering him a drink, but once the employees grew tipsy and emboldened, they, too, began pouring him shots one by one.

As the dinner wound down and talk of heading to a second round began, Seon-woo planned his escape. He waited for the right moment, then quickly settled the bill and opened his mouth to excuse himself.

“Well then, I’ll be—”

But before he could finish, the employees pounced.

“What? No way! You have to come too, Director!”

“There’s no way we’re letting you go home already!”

At first, they had all looked like corpses, barely enduring his presence at the table. But now, with some alcohol in their system, they seemed to have completely forgotten their initial unease.

Seon-woo, watching this ridiculous shift, let out a silent sigh.

Eun-jae took the opportunity to chime in, his voice light.

“Come on, Director. Let’s go together.”

At this point, there was no escape.

“…I suppose I will.”

The moment Seon-woo reluctantly agreed, Eun-jae beamed.

The employees, however, paled as if sobering up all at once.

The clarity was short-lived. The alcohol worked its way back through their systems, and soon enough, the lively chatter resumed as they all headed toward the restaurant entrance.

Seon-woo sighed quietly and was about to follow when—

“Step outside for a moment and get some fresh air.”

Gwak Seung-hyeon had casually draped his coat over his shoulders as he spoke.

The employees exchanged puzzled glances but quickly nodded in understanding before filing out in small groups. Even Eun-jae was swept along with them, though he kept glancing back toward Seon-woo and Seung-hyeon, clearly reluctant to leave them alone.

Once Eun-jae disappeared beyond the door, Seung-hyeon finally spoke. His voice was calm—too calm.

“I have something to say. Let’s step outside.”

His face, usually composed, was even colder without an expression.

Seon-woo’s heart sank with an unfamiliar jolt of tension.

This… wasn’t like him.