Substitute
Chapter 63

Before the workout began, an announcement rang out: this would be the last day all crew members trained together.

“What the fuck? They should’ve done that from the start. I racked up so many goddamn penalty points.”

Grumbling burst out from the Gag Team. It made sense—they were the ones with the highest penalty totals.

But would things really have turned out differently if they’d been training in separate teams all week?

Jiwon didn’t think so.

Sure, there might’ve been less intentional provocation, but the Gag Team would’ve racked up points no matter what. They were just that susceptible to temptation.

The guards were harder to read. They didn’t seem sexually interested in each other. Their eyes were always on the Gag Team and the Sailors—especially the Sailors. As if they were prey.

Dick-food.

Not just an insult, but almost literal: they’d marked the Sailors as meat for their cocks.

Number 11—wasn’t his name Kang Juyeong?

Jiwon couldn’t stop watching him. Kim Yunho was head over heels for Number 11, the only one among the guards who joked around and smiled with Son Geonwoo. That must’ve been what drew Yunho in—he kept noticing him, and noticing became interest.

Like everyone else here, the guy was good-looking by default. Not quite classic handsome, but the kind of face that got more attractive the longer you looked. No wonder he was popular.

And yet Jiwon had a bad feeling. Something about him felt... off.

Who here could possibly be normal, anyway.

If he followed that logic, then Yunho and Park Geonwoo were no exception. And hell, maybe he looked like a psycho to everyone else too.

He let out a dry laugh—and then spotted Choi Minjae.

Their undercover cop, working out just like his teammates, wearing nothing but a T-panty and gag.

Did he even have a real mission here?

He’d said he was blackmailed into this place, so it wouldn’t be surprising if he bailed after scoring one payday. Honestly, maybe that was better. Trying to complete some noble mission would only complicate things. Just chasing money and sex would probably help Jiwon more in the long run.

Either way, it was time for Jiwon to start moving.

He’d memorized the crew’s faces well enough to sketch them from memory. Now he had to move on—start exploring the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) building itself.

Not the floor plan they’d been given—he needed to find hidden spaces.

While going to and from training rooms, he’d started counting his steps. He’d already noticed that the left and right lengths of both the first and second floors didn’t match. Which meant: false walls. And he’d been right.

Figuring out how those walls moved would take time. But he could at least estimate how many secret rooms there were. Starting tomorrow, room movement restrictions would be lifted.

And that meant: jerking off and sex would be allowed anywhere.

These guys weren’t the type to settle for plain dorm-room sex. They’d go looking for somewhere more exciting—and that meant not just lounges and bathrooms, but forbidden zones too.

Jiwon was planning to use that.

No matter how many CCTVs were installed, there were always blind spots. He had to find them.

But even so—it was a major disadvantage. They could observe his every move 24/7. He couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the project’s head or the investors until the Party began.

That was why he kept telling himself this would cost him his life.

Knowing it didn’t make it any less daunting. But it kept him calm.

Take the long way if you’re in a rush. He’d heard that once.

One step at a time. No reason to panic.

He reassured himself.

He was overthinking today. Maybe because of the dream. But more than that—starting tomorrow, he had to be prepared to sleep with any of these men. If it was just two, it’d be merciful. More likely, it’d be three, four, group sex. Whatever came, he had to handle it.

Of course he was nervous. Though, it was a nervousness tinged with arousal.

They’re going to use drugs anyway, aren’t they?

If they did what they’d done in the development class, and drugged him again—he wouldn’t need to worry about reluctance.

He’d go into heat like an animal and drown in pleasure.

If he was going to take it and suck it anyway, better to enjoy it than suffer through it. That was the conclusion he came to.

Just thinking that way made everything easier.

The fitness room was, as always, a scene straight out of porn.

But being the last day of abstinence, everyone’s faces were lit up. They weren’t desperately ogling anymore—they were showing off their bodies, actually picking their sex partners.

Nam Gyuwon was no exception. For once, he made it through the break without giving in.

“That was seriously tough.”

He beamed, proud of himself for enduring.

Jiwon, usually training one-on-one, was glad to have someone beside him. They took their break together, swallowed a booster pill from the trainer, drank water.

Nam Gyuwon chatted with him, voicing regret that it was their last shared workout. Then, slowly, he leaned closer and dropped his voice.

“Jiwon-nim. Um, that is...”

He clearly had something to say.

Gyuwon was never good with words—and today, he was especially shy.

But it wasn’t to ask for sex. He was surprisingly clear about his own preferences.

“What is it? Just say whatever you want.”

Jiwon gave him encouragement, and Gyuwon finally spoke.

“I don’t like repeating what others say, but... I felt like you needed to know.”

He glanced around the gym.

Like he was afraid of being overheard.

Jiwon waited patiently, without pressuring him.

After a long moment of hesitation, Nam Gyuwon finally continued.

“It’s about... Seoho.”

He didn’t say “Sailor 5”—he said his name.

Barely half a day after joining, Han Seoho’s name was already known to everyone. He’d gone around introducing himself directly, and honestly, his whole vibe demanded attention.

“What about Seoho?”

Jiwon tensed a little. The name coming from Nam Gyuwon was unexpected.

“That kid’s no ordinary fox. They don’t call him the Grim Reaper for nothing. Be careful.”

The detective had warned him again and again.

“I’m not trying to come between you two...”

Gyuwon still looked uncomfortable.

What the hell could it be that made him this hesitant?

“I know you’re not that kind of person, Gyuwon-ssi. So don’t worry—go ahead.”

Jiwon encouraged him again, and finally, Gyuwon got to the point.

“He... Seoho said you were a toilet.”

“...What?”

“A t-toilet. That’s what he said.”

Fucking hell. That little piece of shit.

Jiwon nearly swore out loud.

But then the absurdity hit him and he burst out laughing.

“A toilet? Seriously?”

“...Yeah.”

Han Seoho—the same one who’d clung to him like a puppy, calling him “hyung” over and over—had gone around telling people he was a toilet. Unbelievable.

“Toilet” was the slang for someone completely promiscuous, indiscriminate with partners, someone who welcomed the filthiest, most degrading acts. That was the polite version of the word.

Usually, it meant one person used by many—used however they wanted, a tool, not a partner.

It was the most hardcore, dehumanizing position there was. Not a kink—a crime.

And Han Seoho had said that about him.

“Are you sure Seoho said that?”

Gyuwon, looking deeply apologetic despite not being the source, nodded slowly.

Jiwon let out a long breath.

“How did you hear about it?”

He asked gently, careful not to make it sound accusatory.

Gyuwon glanced at him nervously, then explained.

“Well, our team’s kind of... into that stuff, as you know. So there’s one guy who collects rumors about who did what outside. He was trying to flirt with Seoho, I guess, and overheard it. And it wasn’t just him—some other guy nearby heard it too. But they... they can’t keep their mouths shut, so...”

Gyuwon scratched his head, embarrassed, and drank some water.

Han Seoho. Fucking bastard.

The detective had warned him again and again, but Jiwon had doubted it. Seoho had seemed so different from what the cop had said. Maybe he’d wanted to see him in a better light—because of how much he reminded him of that kid.

Whatever the reason, Jiwon had let his guard down.

Seoho meeting the Gag Team hadn’t been a coincidence. He’d deliberately picked someone with a big mouth so they could spread the rumor for him.

A clean hit—without lifting a finger.

Smart little shit.

“When did you hear this?”

He asked.

“Uh, last night. I was in the karaoke room...”

Gyuwon wiped sweat from his brow.

Seeing that Jiwon wasn’t reacting much, he added quickly—

“I don’t care, you know. Even if that is your thing, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

He looked worried, like he was afraid he’d offended Jiwon somehow.

Worrywart.

“Thanks. Didn’t even know that was my taste.”

It came out sharper than he meant.

“A-ah—sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“I know, Gyuwon-ssi. Thanks for telling me.”

He forced a smile.

More than being angry at Seoho, what bothered Jiwon most was not understanding why.

Seoho had been desperate to help him outside—why change so suddenly?

Was it because he hadn’t told him he got in? No—Seoho had been the one to cut contact first.

Was it because Jiwon got closer to someone else? Park Geonwoo? Kim Yunho?

No. That was too childish.

He just couldn’t figure out why Seoho would go this far—to slander him, drag him down.

He looked around the gym, trying to spot him. No effort needed—Seoho was always surrounded by people trying to talk to him. Today was no different. He was lounging with the guards and the Gag Team. Of course, Choi Minjae was with him too.

Seoho was laughing, slapping Number 11’s arm, then wrapping his arms around Minjae in some kind of fake cutesy display.

Still—better to know now.

If Gyuwon hadn’t told him, Jiwon might’ve gotten blindsided.

Knowing and preparing made all the difference. Especially if a group tried to corner him. Even a trained fighter couldn’t handle that.

Jiwon began thinking tactically.

Don’t move alone.

Two was risky. Three.

He didn’t want to pull Park Geonwoo and Kim Yunho into this—but it wasn’t just his problem anymore. They’d been sticking together since orientation. If something happened, people would lump them all in.

So maybe this was the smart move.

But to do that, he’d need to tell them about the rumor.

A fucking toilet? Are you kidding me.

No matter how he thought about it—that crossed the line.

The break ended as he was still working through his options.