The Evolution of Species Chapter 2.2 - Chasing

Kwon Jaewoo flinched and turned to look at me.

“Hyung, this guy…”

“Hakyung is my guest, so you don’t need to worry about him, Jaewoo.”

At that calm response, Kwon Jaewoo’s mouth fell open. A guest? His lips mouthed the word. Instead of answering, I shrugged ostentatiously.

In the end, Kwon Jaewoo was escorted away by Manager Jung. Manager Jung put him in the back seat, personally closed the door, and got into the opposite side. The black sedans lined up and exited the parking lot.

“Hakyung.”

Kwon Sinwoo called me.

I glanced at him.

“Still got business to take care of?”

“Wanna help?”

At my retort, he smiled like a painting.

“If necessary.”

The necessity spoken of by an arms dealer carried weight. I just shook my head.

“I’m done for today.”

“Shall we head back then?”

He turned slightly, and I saw a single remaining sedan. No one else was around.

“Sent the driver home too?”

“I have a driver’s license as well.”

“Unlike Jaewoo?”

“Jaewoo’s still young.”

Fair enough. His mental age seemed like it required a dozen nannies posing as bodyguards.

Instead of pointing that out to his prickly cousin, I just nodded.

The car’s interior was state-of-the-art. A wide-screen navigation system, genuine leather seats, a subtle air freshener scent. That scent was a citrus type, completely unlike the heavy cologne wafting from Kwon Sinwoo. Hmm. I tapped the car’s air purifier between the seats with my fingertip.

Kwon Sinwoo started the car smoothly. The exhaust was nearly silent.

“They say the platform might already be overseas.”

I said, staring at the headlights piercing the darkness.

Without shifting his gaze, Kwon Sinwoo answered calmly.

“That’s been the case for a long time.”

“A long time?”

“It’d be more accurate to say Korea was never their main base to begin with.”

“What’s that mean?”

I turned to look at him. The clean outline of his profile was faintly visible in the dark.

“Not Korean, maybe?”

“That’s still unclear. But what’s certain is.”

He changed lanes. Another lane joined the single-lane national road. At the merge, three or four SUVs, their headlights illuminating the dark road without a single streetlamp, cut in.

“They’ve been operating in Korea without issue until now.”

“Haa…”

With a short sigh, I propped my elbow on the window frame and looked outside. My face briefly reflected in the black window of an SUV running parallel in the next lane.

“Untact is so not my style.”

“The times have changed.”

Kwon Sinwoo said with a voice tinged with amusement. Sorry, but if that was a joke, it wasn’t funny at all.

“The untact era, huh. But still.”

I shifted my gaze to the rearview mirror. The bright headlights of an SUV tailing us closely, like a chain, came into view.

“Untact or whatever, their methods don’t seem to have changed much.”

“Even with unmanned drones and satellite bombing tech, in the end, ground troops are always deployed.”

“I wasn’t talking about anything that grandiose…”

I moved my gaze to the side mirror. Blinding high beams flashed.

Then Kwon Sinwoo spoke.

“Three vehicles total. Can you read the license plates?”

His voice was still calm. I shrugged and turned to look back. The high beams were blinding.

“27 Da 2814, 193 Ta 3328… The one on the side’s hard to see. Maybe 18 Ba… Speed up a bit.”

As soon as I spoke, Kwon Sinwoo floored the accelerator. Vroooom, the engine roared, and the exhaust thrummed. The speedometer’s numbers jumped instantly. The SUV on the right started falling behind.

“18 Ba 3391.”

“Good.”

Kwon Sinwoo held the wheel with one hand and picked up his smartphone with the other. His fingers moved, probably texting. A very bad driving habit.

Soon, the three SUVs closed in tightly. One on the right came dangerously close. A slight misstep, and the cars would scrape. The SUV tailing us from behind also drew nearer. If our speed dropped even by a kilometer, it’d ram us from behind.

“What’s the plan?”

I turned to Kwon Sinwoo.

“Jump out?”

At that, Kwon Sinwoo looked at me.

The speedometer was now in the triple digits. I shrugged.

“If you slow down just a bit, it might be fine.”

I’ve done it before, actually.

“Not a great idea, I’d say.”

Kwon Sinwoo finally responded.

“It’s not the best option… But those guys…”

The SUV on the right lurched toward us, closing the gap. Kwon Sinwoo swerved the wheel. The car crossed the centerline. The trailing car followed, crossing the centerline, then overtook us, rushing ahead. Now we were precariously straddling the centerline, surrounded by three SUVs—front, back, and right.

“They don’t seem like they’d let us jump out anyway…”

A highway on-ramp appeared on the right. [Seoul 23km] A blurry sign flashed by. Kwon Sinwoo glanced at me, his eyes crinkling.

“Looks like we’ll have to take a detour.”

One lane disappeared. Four cars sped down the suddenly narrowed, bumpy national road. The asphalt was old and uneven, and the low fences on either side looked ready to collapse. Dim, sporadic streetlights illuminated the dense bushes beyond the fence.

“Well… It’s not my style, but since this is Korea, should we call the cops?”

As I said that and pulled out my phone, a loud thud! The car lurched forward. The prepaid phone, still with some balance, crumpled in my hand. Another thud as the SUV rammed us from behind. Kwon Sinwoo floored the accelerator. The car surged, and the trailing SUV stuck close.

“Hold on tight.”

Hmm…

One second later, Kwon Sinwoo slammed the brakes. The speedometer dropped below 50 in an instant. Crash! The SUV hit our trunk, unable to handle the impact, and skidded back. At the same time, Kwon Sinwoo hit the gas again. One second, two seconds, three seconds… The speed climbed back to triple digits.

“Zero to one hundred in 4.3 seconds. Aviation engine, armored body, full frame. Next quarter’s new model.”

“Thorough preparation.”

I replied briefly and looked to the side.

The SUVs on either side, momentarily thrown off, swerved sharply to close in. The side mirror shattered, and the screeching of scraping metal pierced my ears as sparks flew.

Close. Close enough. Close enough to reach out and touch.

I grabbed the ceiling handle with one hand and opened the window with the other. Cold wind rushed in. I unbuckled my seatbelt. My face reflected in the black window of the opposing SUV. I grinned at my reflection. At the same time, I raised my fist and smashed the driver’s window. Crack! The tempered glass spiderwebbed. A shadow flickered, and a distorted face overlapped mine. Bang! Crack! Thud! I swung my fist three times in a row. The tempered glass crumbled like pie crust, shattering.

My eyes met the thick-necked driver’s. His eyes were as wide as five-peso coins. The sagging flesh under his eyes twitched.

“Hey, that! Damn, damn it! What the!”

Hmm. Unoriginal curse.

The hulks packed into the passenger and back seats shouted. I didn’t care and reached out, grabbing the driver’s collar. I yanked it tightly, choking him.

“Urk!”

“You bastard!”

“Crazy bastard! Let go, let go!”

“Kill him!”

They screamed.

I pulled the driver’s collar hard. His head smashed into the broken window frame, blood streaming from his forehead and temple. A desperate scream rose.

The passenger hulk screamed too, pulling something shiny from his pocket. A handgun. Aha. Not just some random thugs, then. I immediately pushed the driver toward the passenger side with force. Kwon Sinwoo timed it perfectly, swerving the car right. The two cars collided, metal screeching and sparks flying. Chaos erupted inside their car.

“Agh! Agh! Argh!”

“Gaaah!”

Thud! Thud! Thud! The seatbelt loosened, and the car door rattled. The hulk gripping the wheel had veins bulging blue in his hands, then his neck, strangled by his shirt collar, pulsed red. Then his grip slackened, and foam bubbled from his mouth. That was it. His hands fell from the wheel.

“Damn, damn it! Damn! Crazy!”

The passenger hulk, barely regaining his senses, frantically grabbed the wheel. But his hands, weakened from the impact, couldn’t hold it steady. The SUV veered in the opposite direction, pulling away from us.

I withdrew my hand and closed the window.

It was cold. I cranked the heater and spoke.

“They had a gun.”

“They won’t shoot easily.”

The alpha who’d just staged a Mad Max scene on the road said in a calm, low voice.

“If ammo is found, things get complicated…”

Before he finished, the SUV chasing us from behind sped up, closing in fast. Meanwhile, the SUV blocking the front lane slowed down. Kwon Sinwoo deftly swerved the wheel. The car tilted sharply, my body leaning right. The two SUVs changed lanes together, boxing us in from front and back. The sleek sedan, supposedly next quarter’s model, slammed its front bumper into the car ahead. The speedometer needle wavered.

I glanced up at Kwon Sinwoo’s still-impeccable profile.

“Aviation engine, you said?”

“Even an aircraft can’t take off from a runway while ramming a car.”

“Why not?”

“Because the lift-to-drag ratio drops.”

“What?”

“Brace yourself.”

Instead of an answer, he slammed the brakes. The car shook violently. The expressionless man yanked the gear into reverse with his right hand and floored the accelerator. My gaze locked onto the rearview mirror. The black SUV was closing in fast. My eyes met the hulk in the driver’s seat. His eyes and mouth formed an O. Two seconds, Kwon Sinwoo’s “Brace yourself” echoed in my head. One second, my hand moved. Zero seconds, I kicked the door open and threw myself out.

Crash! The cars collided, and airbags deployed. The SUV tailing us spun like a top, crossing the centerline.

That’s all I saw. The ground rushed up. I twisted mid-air, landing on my back and arms, rolled twice, and sprang up. My feet hit the ground. I vaulted over the low fence. It was dark all around, the ground dry and cracked.

I crouched low at the edge of a shallow ditch and scanned my surroundings. The rustling of wind through dry grass sounded. I caught the scent of oil and blood carried on the breeze. Pfft, the sound of a silenced pistol’s cylinder turning. The familiar smell of gunpowder.

“Find him!”

“Hurry up and find him!”

Urgent voices shouted not far away.

I moved slowly, facing the wind. The darkness cloaked me. Withered reeds and grass rustled around me. I paused, listening carefully. The sound of dry dirt grains bouncing in the air, the crunch of dry grass being trampled, the metallic and fabric friction mixed with the howling wind. Formless enemies.

And I saw two shadows. One familiar, one not.

Pheromones of a variant carried on the wind. The scent of excitement and tension.

An alpha attacking another alpha instead of an omega is an instinct beyond training.

So I moved first.

When facing a variant, it’s easier to target the limbs rather than aiming for a one-shot vital hit. They don’t go down in one blow anyway. I crouched low and kicked the ankle hard from left to right. The heavy body staggered.

“Argh, damn…!”

I didn’t want to hear any more clichéd Korean curses. Before he could finish, I targeted the inside of his knee. Both knees buckled, collapsing to the ground. As he fell, he grabbed my shoulder with one hand and thrust a knife toward my face with the other. Trained movement. I tilted my head to dodge. The blade grazed my cheek. Blood dripped. I struck his wrist upward. His grip weakened, but he didn’t drop the knife. This time, the blade nicked my ear. I rolled my torso sideways, wrapped my arm around his neck, and slammed him to the ground. His neck twisted, and foam bubbled from his mouth.

I kicked the falling knife with my foot. I grabbed the handle mid-air and stabbed it into his thigh.

The muscle-bound body collapsed, convulsing.

I spat blood-mixed saliva briefly and stood up. I pulled a cable tie from my sleeve and bound his wrists.

After kicking the unfamiliar alpha’s back once as he writhed on the ground, I turned around.

Kwon Sinwoo was slowly approaching me.

The wind blew from behind him. A faint cologne scent lingered. His coat was gone, and his dress shirt had some soot, but his face remained pristine. He stopped about three steps away. The darkness cast shadows on his face, but I could still make out the calm shape of his lips, free of any surprise.

“Thanks for the help.”

“He’s my partner, so I’ve got to help.”

I answered without taking my eyes off his face.

“Doesn’t seem like you think that way.”

In the dark, Kwon Sinwoo’s eyes narrowed.

After a brief silence, the corners of his eyes drooped, and a smile appeared.

“I’m sorry for not explaining properly in advance due to the urgency of the situation. But for someone like you, Hakyung, this should be fine…”

“You had time to prepare a next-quarter model with zero to one hundred in 4.3 seconds, an aviation engine, armored body, and full frame, but no time to brief me on this situation?”

“That car was being test-driven by our company. I happened to…”

“No need for excuses.”

I grinned at him.

“I like citrus scents, you know.”

Kwon Sinwoo finally shut his mouth.

The fresh air freshener didn’t suit this man. I knew from the moment I got in that it wasn’t his car. He’d prepared quite a bit for this Fast and Furious chase. Of course, if a freelancer like me, who popped up out of nowhere, disappeared in the process, that’d be a bonus.

That’s when it happened. Kwon Sinwoo lunged toward me, his arm reaching out. A thick, firm arm wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me in. At the same time, a bullet grazed my scalp. Pfft! A second bullet passed slowly between me and Kwon Sinwoo, right before our eyes. I felt the heat of the spinning bullet on my eyelashes. 0.3 seconds, maybe. Kwon Sinwoo, still holding my shoulder, rolled us to the ground. His hand pressed my head down. Pfft, pfft, the sound of bullets hitting the ground followed.

Screams echoed from a distance.

Tadadadadot! Helicopter propellers tore through the silence.

The alpha’s neck exuded a heavy cologne mixed with gunpowder. I felt a firm chest beneath the soft surface of a high-end dress shirt.

I blinked. A bead of sweat hung on the sharp line of his throat, visible through the collar of his shirt, missing one button.

“You okay?”

His voice sounded like a whisper in my ear. Instead of answering, I looked up. His black eyes. Behind them, a searchlight from the helicopter blazed.

Kwon Sinwoo’s pupils followed mine. Then his lips curved softly.

“It’s a nighttime autonomous driving performance test.”

The backlight of the searchlight obscured his expression.

“It took a while to get flight clearance.”

“You weren’t waiting for them to move—you were waiting until we could move.”

“Blindly waiting is inefficient.”

The man who spoke of efficiency, not preference, looked down at me.

“Isn’t that why you moved like this, Hakyung?”

“I hate waiting.”

“So you dragged Jaewoo into this?”

“Didn’t know that idiot would save my life.”

His eyes, glinting like light in the dark, narrowed. At the same time, I tensed my core, lifted my upper body, and hooked my right leg around Kwon Sinwoo’s waist, flipping him over. His heavy, solid body rolled beneath my limbs. I pressed my elbow against his Adam’s apple. With my other arm, I pinned his shoulder, lifting his torso.

Now the roles were reversed. I was pinning Kwon Sinwoo down.

His face, lying beneath me, was finally clear.

A sharp nose bridge flowing from his brow, lips with just the right fullness below. Long eyes. A serene expression, not a hint of surprise.

Infrared-guided laser beams spun around us.

Time slowed.

Blood dripped slowly from my cheek. It fell onto the bridge of Kwon Sinwoo’s nose. Drip, drip, more blood left red specks on his face. His pupils shifted slightly.

Soon, he squinted. It looked like a smile. A very harmless, kind smile.

“Shall we get that treated first?”

The arms dealer tempted me with a gentle voice.

“You probably don’t have health insurance, so a hospital might be tricky. Let’s head to my place for now. I can at least provide some first aid.”

Then he added briefly.

“Because we’re partners.”

Heh, I chuckled softly at that.

I could feel the heat radiating from the man pinned beneath me. In contrast to his calm face, his body was hot and solid. Through the crumpled shirt, sweat evaporated, mingling with his heavy cologne to create a sweet, intoxicating scent. An alpha’s smell—unfamiliar yet not entirely so.

“Your pheromones are leaking.”

At my whisper, Kwon Sinwoo responded softly without so much as twitching an eyebrow.

“It’s the situation.”

“Being pinned by an omega and facing a life-threatening situation?”

“Pheromones are naturally strongest in the face of mortal danger. It’s an instinct to preserve genes.”

“Oh, I know that. Like the suspension bridge effect, right?”

As I laughed, my body shook slightly, and blood dripped from my cheek. It trickled down Kwon Sinwoo’s smooth nose bridge and jaw.

His pheromones, mixed with the scent of blood, grew stronger. They resembled his cologne.

Kwon Sinwoo remained quiet. Despite talking about mortal danger, he was docile, showing no signs of resistance. Beneath my elbow, his Adam’s apple still pulsed fiercely. The pounding of his heart, pumping blood, thrummed in my ears. I listened to that sound.

“Not very alpha-like, as expected.”

Kwon Sinwoo looked up at me. The kind eyes of an arms dealer who’d tried to kill me. I gave a slight smile toward those submissive eyes.

“That’s why I’m letting you live. I’ve always liked that sort of thing.”

Then I lifted my arm from his throat and sprang up. I wiped the blood from my wounded cheek with the back of my hand, shaking off the droplets.

I extended a hand to Kwon Sinwoo, still lying on the ground. He glanced between my hand and my eyes, then slowly took it and stood. As soon as he was up, I let go and stepped back.

“But our partnership ends here. We’ve saved each other once, so let’s call it even. As for the ledger, well… consider it paid with the food and lodging.”

I turned and walked toward the alpha I’d tied up with a cable tie and left on the ground. I tapped his cheek with my toe to check if he was alive. He twitched, so he was. Good. From now on, this guy was set to be my next partner. Or hostage. Or a lead to track down the platform… Whatever it’d be.

I hoisted him over my shoulder and turned around.

Kwon Sinwoo was staring at me intently. His pristine face was stained with my blood. Even so, his expression remained calm. Behind him, the helicopter’s searchlight and red guiding lasers spun chaotically.

I flashed him a grin.

“Let’s each fend for ourselves from now on. Whoever catches the platform first, let’s try not to hold grudges.”

Each fend for ourselves. Such a grand, cool phrase. I’d always wanted to use it.

Raindrops began to fall, drip, drip.

The air was cold.

When I spotted an unmanned motel by the national road, I nearly cheered.

At the entrance, an old incandescent bulb flickered on and off repeatedly. The lobby was dark and damp, with a moldy smell lingering. I checked in, found an empty room, and bought a bottle of water and a beer from the vending machine. Then I headed to the room.

The room was surprisingly hygienic. A queen-sized bed and a small table sat together, and the bedding, at least on the surface, looked clean and smelled of laundry detergent. The hands of an old clock on the ivory wall pointed nearly to midnight.

I roughly rolled the alpha onto the floor and peeled off my soaked coat. First, I looked for a heater. Instead of a radiator, a wall-mounted boiler panel controlled the temperature. Korea, man. Everything’s cutting-edge. I turned the lever all the way up to raise the heat, then, coughing, tied the guy to the bed frame. He twitched as if regaining consciousness, but I ignored him.

Next was the bathroom. I wanted to soak in a tub, but I couldn’t trust the room’s hygiene that far, so I put it off. Instead, I took a long, hot shower.

After about ten minutes under the shower, my chilled body slowly warmed, and my runny nose stopped. Phew. Looked like I’d catch a cold tomorrow.

I meticulously washed my underwear and put on the provided robe. With the collar up and the front tied tightly, it was warm and wearable enough. I roughly towel-dried my hair and strode out of the bathroom.

Must’ve been a long shower.

The room was noticeably warmer than before.

“Ugh…”

The alpha tied to the bed frame groaned and twitched.

“Who… are you…”

He rasped in a hoarse voice. Why do alphas always growl like that, lowering their voices like menacing dogs? A question I hadn’t solved since I was ten.

Anyway, I stepped over him and headed to the desk.

There was a phone, and, naturally, a delivery menu in front of it. Korea’s a damn great country. I flipped through the menu. Steamed monkfish… Gamjatang… Budae jjigae… Chicken… Pizza… Jokbal… What to order? After a moment’s thought, I picked up the receiver. Called two places. Ordered steamed monkfish and jokbal. Didn’t forget to ask for a large cola. I’m practically a local now, right?

I stood up from the desk and cracked open the beer I’d bought. Pop, the can’s tab made a crisp sound. I chugged half of it and turned around.

“Who are you?”

The alpha growled at me.

I stood in front of him, can in hand, and looked down. He glared back, unflinching. Big, intense eyes, thick eyebrows. Didn’t look that old. Thirty, maybe a bit younger. Muscles honed by training and combat sat well on his shoulders and chest. His neck was taut with slight tension, but his expression looked more angry than scared.

Well, yeah. Alphas are always angry.

I squinted slightly, smiling down at him.

“Hey.”

“You think I’m in the mood to say hey?”

He shot back rudely. I grinned.

“Yeah, guess not. Anyway, we don’t have much time, so let’s get started.”

“What are you starting… Argh!”

I yanked the knife out of his thigh. Clotted blood splattered, and fresh blood gushed from the open wound. A metallic stench hit me. He gritted his teeth and glared. His gaze was pretty menacing.

“Who are you? Who’re you with?”

And then he had the nerve to question me. I tossed the knife into the air and caught it. Spun it between my fingers a few times.

“Sorry, I’m the one asking questions.”

I pulled a creaky wooden chair over and sat lightly.

“Delivery’s coming soon, so let’s wrap this up quick.”

“You think you know who I am…”

“Who hired you?”

“…If you’re not afraid of the consequences…”

I lightly smacked his cheek. A thwack, his head snapped to the side, and he clenched his teeth. His burning eyes shot daggers at me. He spat blood onto the floor.

“You’re dead later.”

“That’s not your concern, is it?”

Of course, I’m a pro, so I don’t kill easily. 🙂

And we had a fun hour together.

Ding-dong.

The bell rang. I caught my breath and headed to the door. “Delivery!” a dazed voice called from outside. I cracked the door open. A delivery guy in a soaked raincoat held heavy bags in both hands. I smiled and handed him cash.

I turned back with the jokbal and steamed monkfish bags. Thud. The door closed behind me.

The smell of blood was overtaken by the delicious aroma of jokbal.

I hopped over the pool of blood on the floor and headed to the bed. The alpha, faceplanted on the floor, twitched his back and shoulders.

“Damn… it…”

He panted. Each heaving breath brought up the smell of blood.

I climbed onto the bed and opened the bags. The cheap, rock-hard mattress was perfect for spreading out food. I snapped apart wooden chopsticks and mixed the makguksu, while groans continued from the floor. I glanced over; his panting seemed off. Didn’t look like he’d lost that much blood… I stood up. Grabbed the water bottle I’d bought from the mini fridge and approached him.

I lifted his head by the back of his neck and tilted the bottle to his mouth. He gulped it down, gasping like he was on the verge of passing out. Water he couldn’t swallow streamed down his chin, washing away dried blood on his neck. I gave him enough and let go. As I turned back to my jokbal, the guy, face back on the floor, whispered faintly.

“Water… More…”

And in a crawling voice, he continued.

“And… Let me eat, you bastard. I’ll talk…”

“Hmm.”

I sat cross-legged on the bed, placing a thick slice of jokbal on a lettuce leaf, and glanced down at him.

“Talk.”

“They didn’t plan to kill from the start. Just rough him up, scare him…”

“Who were you targeting? Kwon Sinwoo?”

“Yeah.”

He swallowed dryly.

“Didn’t plan to make it a big deal. We’re not that stupid, damn it. Didn’t want to get openly involved in a chaebol fight either…”

A chaebol fight, huh. So the guy who ordered Kwon Sinwoo roughed up is also a chaebol?

“Not the platform?”

“Platform?”

He made a dumb face.

Oh. Not the platform, then.

I picked up the jokbal plate with one hand, held chopsticks in the other, and went to him. I grabbed a piece of jokbal with the chopsticks and squatted, holding it to his mouth. His eyes flicked to the gap in my robe, then quickly away. I grinned, and he looked humiliated.

“Keep talking.”

“Damn, damn it, get that away. What am I, a dog?”

Taking advantage of his open mouth, I shoved it in.

“Mmph!”

Despite his protests, he chewed and swallowed in seconds. I tilted my head and grinned. His face turned red and purple.

“You bastard…”

“I said keep talking.”

I shoved a second piece into his mouth. Didn’t forget to add a little “There you go.”

Feeding him jokbal, I learned the following: One, he’s part of a Korean mafia group with the weird name Shin Sangpyeongpa. Two, his rank is pretty high… Shockingly. Three, he’s in direct contact with the third-party chaebol who ordered this attack.

The first and second don’t matter. The third is key.

I pulled a smartphone from the pocket of his flight jacket. I placed it in his hand. Didn’t forget to say kindly.

“Call.”

He glanced at me, scrolling through his call history and selecting one. SR Management… Hmm. The ringtone didn’t last long before the guy called SR Management picked up.

“Yes, boss… It’s me.”

I mouthed to him. Speaker mode. He did as told. Soon, an irritable voice came through. Low, dry, not hiding its annoyance.

[Why’re you calling me?]

“Uh, there’s a problem with the job.”

[I already got the report.]

“About the omega with Kwon Sinwoo…”

[Omega?]

The guy on the other end paused.

[Aha…]

A low chuckle followed.

[The omega with Jaewoo? Kwon Sinwoo took him? Thought he was a sponsor, but he’s not?]

The idiot’s name came up. A chaebol fight, he said. Really a family feud? Like a mafia turf war?

“…No.”

[What about the omega? You got him?]

He glanced at me. I nodded.

“Yeah… I’ve got him. What should I do?”

[Sure it’s the one with Kwon Sinwoo?]

“Yes. I saw them together myself.”

A creepy chuckle came through the receiver. An unpleasant chill ran down my spine.

[Bring him.]

“Where to?”

[I’m in Yangpyeong now, so bring him there. It’s more comfortable than Seoul. Might as well show that friend something fun.]

That “fun” probably isn’t actually fun.

The call ended.

Pretty intriguing stuff. I stood up. Climbed back onto the bed, stretched my legs, and slurped a bite of slightly soggy makguksu.

From under the bed, Shin Sangpyeongpa or whatever glanced at me.

“You going?”

“To Yangpyeong?”

At my question, he nodded. I said, “Gotta go,” and peeled open the plastic lid of the steamed monkfish container. A delicious aroma wafted up. I opened the two extra rice bowls I’d ordered. The side dishes were decent in variety. Kimchi, dried radish, soupy dongchimi… All had a strong aspartame taste, which made them delicious.

“Bastard… Give me some. Damn it, I told you everything.”

He started whining like a typical alpha faced with food. Guess I didn’t rough him up enough.

After an hour of hearty eating, the plastic containers were empty, and my stomach was nicely full. A cappuccino with half a pump of syrup would’ve been perfect, but sadly, there was only instant coffee. I settled for tearing open two packets, pouring them into a paper cup, and plugging in the electric kettle. Gulping down a sweet instant coffee made me feel good.

I tapped the butt of Shin Sangpyeongpa or whatever, who was sitting on the floor, awkwardly wielding chopsticks with bound wrists to eat jokbal and monkfish.

“Hey, why!”

He snapped, briefly fearless, then shrank his shoulders and pouted.

“You got a car?”

“Why…”

“Why do you think? Aren’t we going? Yangpyeong.”

“Now?”

“What, that boss guy gonna wait forever?”

“Dunno…”

He mumbled dumbly. I kicked his butt again.

“Call your lackey, goon, friend, whatever, and tell them to bring a car.”

If this guy’s really Korean mafia, he’s got plenty of underlings to order around, right?

And I was right. When I shoved the smartphone at him again, he grumbled timidly but made a call. A short call, just the motel name and an order to bring a car. I tossed the smartphone away and stretched.

“When’s it coming?”

“Two hours, probably… From Seoul…”

He answered. Two hours, huh. I yawned, turned off the lights, leaving only the small bedside lamp on.

“I’m sleeping, so if you make noise, you’re dead.”

With that, I closed my eyes.

The last thing I heard was him sucking in a breath, and I slipped into a short, deep sleep.

The vibration of a smartphone woke me.

I bolted upright.

Rain pattered beyond the curtains, drip, drip.

The dim room smelled of food and blood, not exactly pleasant.

From under the bed, Shin Sangpyeongpa or whatever groaned and mumbled in his sleep. I stepped down on the opposite side of where he was tied. I checked the vibrating smartphone. Not mine, obviously. [Yunhyeok Bastard] An unfamiliar name. I took the phone to Shin Sangpyeongpa or whatever. He squinted his eyes open.

“What.”

Without answering, I hit the accept button and held it to his ear.

He swallowed dryly.

“Yunhyeok?”

He said, trying to sound serious. Pathetic.

After a short call, he looked up at me.

“They brought the car…”

“Tell them to park it in the lot and leave.”

I said, then went to the bathroom. The underwear I’d washed and hung was mostly dry. I finished drying it with the hairdryer and put on clean underwear with a clean heart.

I threw on my clothes and stepped out.

“What about… me?”

He asked urgently as soon as I emerged.

“You’re coming, obviously. You think that boss guy or whatever’s gonna let me in without you?”

The faint hope in his eyes fizzled out. I kicked his butt to get him up.

“Get up.”

I made him walk ahead.

Outside, the rain was pouring harder than before. The parking lot was puddled and sloshed, the air damp and moldy.

A white Grandeur with its engine running was parked off to one side. There was no one around. [Yunhyeok Bastard] must have obediently left the car as instructed.

“Give me the address.”

The guy, with slightly anxious eyes, recited an address starting with Yangpyeong-gun, and I carefully entered it into the navigation system. Next, I opened the trunk. The anxiety in his eyes intensified.

I looked at him and grinned.

“You getting in, or should I put you in?”

He climbed into the trunk on his own. The trunk seemed a bit small for his bulk, but that wasn’t my problem.

I drove for about an hour. It was early morning, so the roads were clear. I cruised at 140 kilometers per hour for about 30 kilometers on the highway before turning onto a national road. I drove the same distance again. In the distance, a glimmering river appeared through the darkness. I kept the dark river to my side and drove a bit more. I slowed down.

When I reached the destination, it was nearly morning.

I climbed a single-lane road winding through the mountains for about ten minutes. A grand mansion emerged between the ridges. Most of the windows had curtains drawn, and only the guide lights on the driveway glowed faintly. I parked the car a good distance from the gate. Screech, the tires scraped harshly against the gravel-covered ground.

I opened the door and got out. As soon as I popped the trunk, Shin Sangpyeongpa rolled out and hit the ground. Thud! With his hands and feet bound, he writhed on the ground, retching.

I kindly waited for him to finish vomiting.

About five minutes later, he looked up at me with bloodshot eyes.

“You bastard, your driving, damn it, trying to kill me…”

He rambled incoherently, and I ignored him.

“Get up.”

I tapped his side with my foot.

He struggled to his feet, panting.

“If you try anything…”

Instead of finishing, I grinned. He turned pale and trembled.

I cut the cable ties binding his hands and feet. I tapped his shoulder to walk ahead. He started stumbling forward.

At first, his steps were unsteady, but they gradually steadied. He limped slightly on his left leg, where he’d been stabbed, but it wasn’t noticeable enough for a stranger to pick up on. Especially not in the foggy dead of night.

A mist enveloped the three-story mansion. The driveway’s guide lights emitted a dim glow. I glanced back. Below the ridge, a dark, serpentine river wound through the landscape.

Shin Sangpyeongpa or whatever stood before a firmly shut iron gate. He tapped the security panel with his bear-like paw. Surprisingly, the gate opened. I’d assumed he’d need someone’s permission to get inside…

Inside the gate, a well-maintained garden appeared. The early season gave it a bleak atmosphere. With fog pooling here and there, it honestly felt like a haunted house. The wind rattled the bare branches of the garden trees.

At the entrance, a sensor light flicked on. It was a hefty front door.

He pressed the doorbell. A silent vibration traveled through the circuit. I glanced up. A CCTV camera at the entrance stared down at me. Instead of smiling at it, I casually shifted to a blind spot.

Clunk, the sound of a large lock turning came from inside the door. A triple lock… It’d be easier to rip the whole mechanism out than to pick or cut it. As I finished that thought, the door swung open with a thud.

“What’s up?”

A slurred voice greeted us.

“Yeongwoo said you were coming, but… isn’t it a bit late?”

Glassy eyes.

A man with disheveled black hair leaned against the doorway. He was rail-thin with slouched shoulders. His designer-logoed shirt was half-unbuttoned, and his pants’ front zipper was open. A regular human. He looked at Shin Sangpyeongpa with bleary eyes, then turned to scan me up and down. A faint smirk curled his lips.

“Hey?”

He greeted me with his slurred voice.

“You’re the omega? Yeongwoo said… Jihun said you’d bring an omega…”

The wobbly stick of a man staggered toward me, throwing one arm around my shoulder and the other around my waist.

“Hey… This…”

Then he tilted his chin up to look at Shin Sangpyeongpa.

“Man, Shin Jihun, you brought a real catch, huh? Damn… Wow… What’s this? A trainee? Or an actor?”

I gave Shin Sangpyeongpa a steady look. A warning, letting him know what was coming. His face went white.

“Hey, don’t…”

Thwack! I grabbed the stick’s collar and slammed him against the doorframe. A crisp sound, like a watermelon splitting, rang out.

“…do it…”

Shin Sangpyeongpa’s shoulders slumped pathetically.

I nudged the unconscious stick, now slumped on the ground, with my toe. Shin Sangpyeongpa, showing some misplaced loyalty, grabbed the stick’s neck and dragged him inside. The door closed.

“Hey, Shin Sangpyeongpa.”

I jerked my chin at Shin Sangpyeongpa, who was carrying the stick over his shoulder.

“You just heard my name.”

He got absurdly indignant. When?

Anyway, whether his name was Shin Sangpyeongpa or New Product, I didn’t care. I tapped his calf with my toe to hurry him.

“Let’s go inside.”

Because I’m probably catching a cold tomorrow, and I want to wrap this up tonight.

We passed through a long, dark corridor lined with marble tiles, arriving at a heavy double wooden door. Shin Sangpyeongpa opened it first. As soon as the door swung open, a wave of warmth hit me. The dry heater air stung my cheeks, thawing them.

Next came the music. Low cello and contrabass melodies, layered with sticky French lyrics. A retro BGM mixing classical tones with 1930s chansons—an impressively perverse taste.

I cast my gaze to the center of the vast room.

The room was at least 100 square meters, more like an atelier than a room. A heavy white curtain draped one wall, adding to the effect. Luxurious sofas and chaises were scattered about, feigning nonchalance. A peanut-shaped modern table sat in the middle, littered with various messy items. Hmm. No syringes. I glanced up at the air. It was hazy. A cloying mix of perfume and musty odors lingered.

Marijuana, with something else mixed in. Cocaine? Meth? Not LSD. Enjoying a bit of everything, huh?

“Huh? What? Seokyeon went to get you…”

A guy sprawled on a chaise looked up. Two naked women clung to his sides. All three had eyes that were far from sober.

Across from them, a clothed man and woman, glued together like one body, were in the midst of exhausting themselves. A man slumped over the table snorted drugs, his nostrils flaring. A delicate-looking guy knelt on the floor, eagerly servicing someone. It was the middle of a predictable orgy and drug party.

The only difference was the vibe. Everyone seemed subdued. Guess it wasn’t the kind of drug that gets you high.

A chandelier, looking like a feathered objet d’art, hung low, its soft, twinkling light spinning slowly. The ceiling was at least ten feet high. One wall was covered not with paint or tiles but with lavish silk wallpaper mimicking Renaissance masterpieces. On the opposite wall, a large electric fireplace blazed. The ivory marble floor was covered with a thick rug. A Qing Dynasty-style porcelain vase, as tall as a person, brimmed with colorful peonies. A cloying scent of musk and lavender filled the air.

The soft, sticky French BGM was downright unpleasant. Especially with the occasional modern mix of drums and cymbals behind the cello and contrabass.

Whoever the party planner was, they were no ordinary pervert.

Then a stumbling man approached me—or, more precisely, Shin Sangpyeongpa. He raised his arm with effort and slung it over Shin Sangpyeongpa’s shoulder. The height difference made it look awkward.

“You came? Yeongwoo said you were, and you actually did? Man, there’s no bastard like you, seriously. Woof woof!”

He cackled.

“Here.”

He held out a whiskey glass. The light reflected off the delicate crystal, the whiskey inside sloshing golden, with unmelted white powder glimmering on a fist-sized ice cube.

“Good stuff, good stuff.”

He tapped Shin Sangpyeongpa’s chest.

“What’re you waiting for?”

Bold to the point of recklessness. I thought Shin Sangpyeongpa would smash the guy’s head with the glass, but, against my expectations, that didn’t happen.

Shin Sangpyeongpa took the glass.

I wondered if Shin Sangpyeongpa owed the guy a hundred billion pesos or something. Poor bastard. Maybe I should’ve gone easier on him…

The guy turned to me. His bleary eyes reddened. A sleazy grin curled his lips.

“That’s him? The omega Yeongwoo mentioned?”

I didn’t even know who Yeongwoo was, and being referred to as “omega” was far from pleasant.

“Hey.”

Shin Sangpyeongpa grabbed my wrist tightly. Hold back, hold back, he whispered faintly. I shrugged. I’m not so reckless as to bash every idiot I meet. There were too many eyes here. I hadn’t even met the boss or whoever ordered me brought here.

“Hey.”

The reckless guy slinked toward me.

He was short. About my height. Maybe a bit shorter…

He grabbed my shoulder with one hand, kneading it, and pulled me closer.

“Sit down for a sec. Let’s talk. I’ve got so many questions for an omega. I mean, come on. Real ones are rare, right? Usually…”

Rare where?

On the streets? In schools? In the National Assembly? Or in this perverse place?

And real? Are there fake omegas?

I had many questions, but now was the time to gather intel. I couldn’t smash this guy’s head like I did the stick at the entrance. There were no eyes there… and I’d been in a CCTV blind spot.

I followed him to the sofa obediently.

The sofa was springy, plush, with a natural velvet texture.

A woman appeared from somewhere, holding ice-filled glasses in both hands. I thought she was staff, but she wasn’t. She smiled brightly and sat next to the guy, opposite me. A woman with strong nerves. She neatly aligned her nails, adorned with sparkling fake gems, and poured whiskey into the glasses. Those nails could be pretty threatening… I glanced at the whiskey label. Single malt Scotch. Classic. In a perverse drug party like this, I’d believe it if they’d brought out cheap bourbon instead.

The guy suddenly pulled a small packet from his pocket and grinned at me.

“Wanna try?”

He showed me the contents as if displaying a 50-carat diamond. White powder.

“Finely refined stuff. Yeongwoo’s killer at this.”

“Pass.”

I declined and turned to take a whiskey glass from the woman across from me. Single malt Scotch is worth drinking. Unless they spiked the bottle…

The idiot blinked his bleary eyes as if shocked. Then he chuckled and slung his arm over my shoulder. His fingers creepily brushed my shoulder.

Having met too many idiots in a short time, I felt the need to organize their nicknames. As I pondered, he grabbed my chin and turned my face toward him. Our eyes met. From behind the sofa, Shin Sangpyeongpa gasped audibly. Surprised? I’m not so fragile as to lose my cool over this.

So instead of breaking his jaw, I grinned.

His eyes were bleary, pupils unfocused, whites yellowish. Classic druggie eyes. Alright, let’s call him Druggie. If I have to deal with him again.

“Your face and proportions are perfect. You must be popular, huh? Trainee? Or working at some club? You Yeongwoo’s?”

He wiggled his pinky at me.

I shook my head with a hum.

Druggie cackled.

“Omegas always play hard to get, but that’s what makes them charming.”

I glanced over his shoulder. Shin Sangpyeongpa was nervously tapping his leg, watching me. When our eyes met, he scowled and shook his head once. To me, it seemed like, “Don’t kill him.”

Then Druggie followed my gaze. Spotting Shin Sangpyeongpa behind the sofa, he said, “Aha,” and turned back to me.

“Right, Shin Jihun brought you, didn’t he? So, you’re from Shin Sangpyeongpa’s club? Like an omega club?”

Omega club, ugh! This guy’s a total pervert!

Maybe he noticed my expression, because Shin Sangpyeongpa finally stepped closer. Unaware if Shin Sangpyeongpa was trying to save his own skin, Druggie leaned in with his slimy lips and toad-like mouth, whispering.

“I’ve always wondered… If an omega and a woman hook up, who gets pregnant?”

I nearly burst out laughing. Not because of the question, but because of Shin Sangpyeongpa’s face behind the sofa. He looked at me like I was about to snap Druggie’s neck 180 degrees.

“Hold, hold back…”

“Huh? Hold what? I mean, come on. Jihun, you’re not curious? Not curious ‘cause you’re an alpha? Don’t they do shows like that at your omega club? Omega and woman hooking up? Now that I think about it, who handles contraception?”

Druggie laughed uproariously, as if he’d told a brilliant joke. The idiots around, drunk on booze, drugs, and sex, erupted in laughter too.

Now it was my turn to ask.

“Didn’t you get sex ed in kindergarten?”

This was genuine curiosity.

“If you and that guy sleep together, who gets pregnant?”

This wasn’t curiosity but a question for his level.

“…What?”

Druggie’s gaze followed my finger to another idiot. The one kneeling on the floor, nostrils flaring, snorting drugs off the table. Species: regular human. Gender: male.

“Huh? Me? What?”

Realizing the attention was on him, he looked over with glassy eyes.

Druggie’s face flushed red and purple. His breathing grew ragged, his stomach heaving. After a moment, he forced an awkward smirk, trying to look relaxed. Sorry, but it wasn’t relaxed—it was pitiful.

“Did our pretty boy get upset?”

I ignored Druggie and spoke to Shin Sangpyeongpa.

“He’s not the guy you talked to, right?”

Shin Sangpyeongpa hesitated, unable to answer immediately. That was answer enough. I sprang to my feet. I must’ve bumped Druggie’s arm, because it flailed, and whiskey splashed from his glass, soaking his shirtfront.

“What the, damn…”

His rising voice, about to curse, lowered when our eyes met. He huffed shortly.

“Talk about bad luck…”

At the same time, he violently poured the remaining whiskey onto the face of the woman next to him. A small scream, “Eek,” escaped. Druggie panted and cackled.

“What? You mad?”

He looked straight at my face, not the woman’s, and asked. Hmph. I tilted my head and shot back.

“Why’re you asking me?”

I pointed at the woman, water dripping from her nose and chin, her expression unclear—laughing or crying?

“She’s the one you should ask, no?”

“Little bastard’s got a mouth on him…”

Druggie clicked his tongue and tapped the woman’s wet cheek. If it were me, I’d be pissed, but she just whimpered, “Stop, stop,” with a strange nasal sound. Druggie looked at me, smacking his lips. With narrowed, bleary eyes. Arrogantly. As if he was doing me a favor by looking at me. As if he could treat me like a slave anytime.

Utterly presumptuous.

“Hey.”

“…You just call me?”

Druggie’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Yeah, I called you.”

Then I gave a slight smile.

“Ha, this pretty bastard thinks he can run wild ‘cause I’m going easy on him!”

I lightly smacked his cheek. A crisp thwack rang out. He crumpled into the corner of the sofa. A scream rose from somewhere.

“You damn, you know who I am, argh!”

I grabbed his collar, lifted him, and smacked his cheek again. Thwack, another, thwack, another, thwack. After about five hits, I forgot to control my strength, and a few of his molars flew out.

“Hey, stop!”

From behind, Shin Sangpyeongpa—no, Coward—yelled.

“Shut up, Coward.”

I snapped back, grabbed Druggie’s nape, and dragged him off the sofa. He writhed on the floor. Someone high on drugs and sex screamed, someone panted, someone burst into laughter.

I picked up a random glass from the cluttered table and squatted in front of Druggie, crawling on the floor. I grabbed his chin with one hand, forcing his head up. His left cheek and eyelid were red and swollen as he flailed. I tilted the whiskey glass toward his face. Expensive single malt Scotch streamed down his forehead and cheeks. He gasped, choking.

Shin Sangpyeongpa, the Coward, grabbed my shoulder.

“Enough! You know who this is? Damn it, he’s Hyoshin’s grandson!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m going easy.”

Hyoshin or whatever—if this were Mexico, this bastard’s head and body would already be separated, hanging upside down on a cross.

As a half-melted ice cube fell onto Druggie’s forehead, I was about to smash the glass into his face when a voice—amused, unpleasant, and calm—stopped me.

“That’s enough.”

I turned around.

A man stood behind the sofa, his arms loosely draped over the backrest, looking at me. His gaze briefly touched me, then Druggie’s face in my grip. The corner of his mouth lifted. It didn’t look like a smile.

I glanced to the side. Shin Sangpyeongpa’s face was rigid. His jaw was tense, his mouth firm, as if slightly nervous.

Aha.