The Evolution of Species Chapter 3.1 - Fox Hunt 1

It was indeed time to take stock.

I took the subway, traveling along the green line. Announcements came in Korean, English, Chinese, and Japanese, and people poured out of the train. I slipped into the crowd.

I walked leisurely for about ten minutes through the disorienting underground, open in all directions. At the base of the stairs leading to the surface, there was a traveler’s luggage storage. I headed there. Three Chinese tourists, sweating profusely, were struggling to shove oversized suitcases into a locker. I lightly pointed at one of the suitcases, and they looked puzzled. Instead of answering, I gave a slight smile and pushed the suitcase. With a loud clunk, the suitcase, caught on the edge, slid into the locker. The tourists shouted thanks in alternating Korean and English. Whatever. They’d figure out how to get it out later.

Leaving them behind, I went deeper inside.

I entered the password for locker 398 and opened the door. I pulled out a Boston bag from inside. I gave it a light shake. A faint clatter sounded, and I closed the locker door and left.

I found a public restroom.

I entered the middle stall, locked the door, and lowered the toilet lid. I placed the Boston bag on it and unzipped it. Inside was an opaque polyester vinyl bag, and within that, four passports.

I checked the passports.

One Canadian, two German, one Filipino.

I tore the Filipino passport into pieces, tossed them into the toilet, and flushed.

I grabbed the Boston bag and stepped out.

I walked toward the less crowded direction.

Drunk or sober college students giggled as they brushed past me. At the end of a long corridor, another long escalator appeared. I took the stairs instead. A yawning office worker descended the opposite escalator.

I paused midway up the stairs and looked back.

People walked slowly between three or four large pillars. I picked out a distinct set of footsteps among them.

Trained steps.

Hmph.

I turned and climbed the rest of the stairs.

The higher I went from the bright underground to the dim surface, the fewer people there were.

The last five steps. I leaped over them in one bound. I immediately turned and hid behind a large pillar.

“Damn it!”

“After him!”

The sound of footsteps racing up the stairs grew closer.

Three meters, two meters, one meter…

“He went this way… urk!”

As the guy rounded the pillar, I swung the Boston bag, smashing it into his face. He toppled backward with the momentum of his run. The next guy chasing him tripped over him and stumbled, and I launched myself, slamming my knee into his solar plexus. He collapsed, drooling, without a sound.

This was as easy as sipping lukewarm celery soup.

I brushed my hands off and, before anyone noticed, grabbed the collars of the two unconscious guys and dragged them to a dim bike parking area between an elevator booth and a high staircase.

As I rummaged through their pockets, I felt a small vibration from one guy’s coat inner pocket. I reached in and found a phone. The screen showed an unsaved number starting with 010, vibrating continuously.

I stood and answered the call.

[Hello.]

From the other side of the phone, Kwon Yeongwoo greeted me in a low voice tinged with amusement.

Sorry, but I wasn’t thrilled at all.

I switched the phone to my other ear and turned my gaze to the dim alleyway. The faint lights of open shop signs glowed hazily under sparsely placed, dim streetlights.

“What is it this time? Revenge for getting beaten up?”

[Oh. Not surprised, huh? Knew it was me?]

Kwon Yeongwoo asked in a low, amused voice from the other side of the phone.

What was there to be surprised about? If the Platform was already tracking me, of course they’d share info with this pervert.

I replied casually.

“Whatever. It’s either you or the Platform.”

[Mm-hmm. So that guy already contacted you, huh.]

Kwon Yeongwoo whispered in a slightly quickened, delighted tone.

I didn’t answer, instead listening for a moment to the low, steady sound of footsteps—thud, thud—through the unclear call quality.

Shadows flickered restlessly under the streetlight glow.

Hmph. This is getting interesting.

[Whoa. Not even surprised by this?]

“Whoa. Not even surprised by this?”

The voice came simultaneously from the phone and the opposite side of the bike parking lot.

I pulled the phone from my ear and flung it behind me. I stared steadily at the source of the voice.

Kwon Yeongwoo, dressed in black like a reaper, stood under a utility pole.

He had a cast on one shoulder and held a phone in the other hand, lightly waving it at me.

“Hey. Missed you. Well, as you know, our first meeting wasn’t exactly pleasant. Nor was our parting.”

He rambled as he approached me step by step. His steps were cautious, likely gauging my reach. Just before he entered the distance I could cover in a second, he stopped.

Only then did I raise my head and meet his eyes. The situation was pretty amusing, as was Kwon Yeongwoo’s overly cautious demeanor, despite his chatter.

“You sure know a lot about variants.”

“I told you.”

Kwon Yeongwoo answered.

“I was born and raised in a variant family.”

He tilted his head side to side.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. I was pondering how to beat him into spilling about the Platform when he spoke.

“Hey.”

Kwon Yeongwoo called me in a slimy, unpleasant tone. As the corner of his mouth twitched upward, he swiftly drew a gun from his coat with one hand and aimed it at me.

“You know what my family deals in, so why act like this?”

Kwon Yeongwoo’s eyes narrowed vertically, his gleaming black pupils fixed on me.

“At night, even with a handgun, I can hit you in one shot at this distance. Head or heart. And no matter how tough a variant is, that’s the end.”

He hissed like a snake.

I stood still for a moment, eyeing the hand holding the gun. Long fingers with thick knuckles. The direction of calluses. The shape of his nails. It was a hand that handled guns. Only then did I acknowledge that his words weren’t mere bravado.

“What do you want?”

At my question, Kwon Yeongwoo shrugged his uncasted shoulder.

“Nothing much. Just…”

His eyes and mouth curved.

“Let’s grab a meal. We’ve got things to talk about. Two birds, one stone.”

“That’s a lousy dinner invitation.”

“Yeah, well, I think so too.”

Kwon Yeongwoo replied in a nonchalant tone. The gun aimed at me didn’t waver. I kept my eyes on the barrel and slowly raised my hands. His gaze followed my hands.

When someone’s got a gun to your head, your vocabulary shrinks to a few words. Alright. Fine. Sure. That’s about it.

“Fine.”

I picked one and answered appropriately.

Kwon Yeongwoo grinned.

“Quick talker, huh. Good. I hate wasting time.”

He gestured with his eyes. I walked in the direction he indicated. Kwon Yeongwoo followed, keeping the exact same distance.

After a few meters, a black sedan silently glided up and stopped in front of me. A man got out of the driver’s seat and searched me. He took my Boston bag and phone, then opened the back door. The heavily tinted interior was like a black cave. Without hesitation, I stepped into the gaping black cave.

As I got in, the door closed immediately.

The car’s interior was divided by reinforced plastic panels between the front and back seats, and the special tint made the outside invisible. It felt like a prisoner transport or police vehicle.

A weight of about 80 or 90 kilograms climbed into the front seat, making the car dip slightly with a thud, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

The car started immediately.

I began tracking time.

Roughly forty minutes to an hour passed.

The car slowed and turned right. A slight incline. Judging by the tire noise and the car’s vibrations, it was a rough concrete road.

The car stopped.

Someone opened the back door.

It was Kwon Yeongwoo.

He no longer held the gun, but behind him stood five burly figures in a line, all variants.

“Took a while, huh? Good work.”

Kwon Yeongwoo spoke as if we were buddies. Instead of answering, I scanned the surroundings.

In the middle of a wide concrete lot stood a large warehouse, like rusted containers pieced together. The warehouse door was open, and light spilled out.

Kwon Yeongwoo walked ahead, gesturing to me.

I followed for now.

Passing through the wide-open door, I stepped onto a similarly barren cement floor. The lighting was moderately soft.

The interior seemed at least 200 square meters, with a corner piled high with old cargo pallets. That wasn’t all. Next to the pallet stack were an expensive-looking large speaker and a turntable.

Kwon Yeongwoo strode toward the speaker and turntable.

He lifted the turntable lid and delicately adjusted the needle onto the vinyl. Crackling, jazz mixed with static began to play. Early 20th-century American jazz.

My lips twisted.

Kwon Yeongwoo turned to face me.

Behind him, the massive speaker hummed, playing jazz.

“Hmm. Not sure if the selection suits your taste.”

“It’s bad.”

I added.

“As bad as your taste in wine.”

“Oh. That’s a shame.”

Kwon Yeongwoo said in a tone that didn’t sound remotely regretful, then began walking diagonally away from me.

I followed his direction with my eyes.

“To be honest, garage wine… well, yeah. It’s an acquired taste. Green wine too.”

In the direction he walked, there was a flimsy metal dining table with two shabby plastic chairs. A white tablecloth covered the table, and, absurdly, an expensive crystal vase held a vibrant bouquet of red and white geraniums.

It was exactly the kind of setup a pervert would put together.

And that pervert stood by the table, pulling out a chair and giving me a suggestive smile.

“Here. Sit.”

I stared at him silently for a moment, then strode over and plopped into the chair he’d pulled out.

Humming along to the jazz melody, Kwon Yeongwoo went to the opposite chair. The mountain of wooden pallets behind him made his pristine outfit look almost photoshopped.

As he sat, an alpha who looked like The Rock, dressed in a black suit, appeared from deeper in the warehouse, pushing a tray.

The jazz melody mixed with the clattering of the tray’s wheels rolling over the rough cement floor.

Soft plastic wine glasses and cutlery were placed on the table.

Kwon Yeongwoo tapped the plastic wine glass with his uncasted hand—tap, tap. The alpha hurriedly moved a champagne bottle from the tray. Expensive champagne with a labeled cork poured noisily into the plastic glass. I’d rather have a cola right now, even if it’s one you can’t buy with money. With lime. And ice. In a real glass, not plastic.

Kwon Yeongwoo, who’d been anxiously tapping the glass, suddenly looked up at me.

His eyes gleamed like a snake’s.

“What’s your goal?”

For dragging me to this tacky warehouse diner, it was a surprisingly direct question. I didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to expect one either.

He tilted the plastic glass and sipped the champagne.

Then he stared at me over the rim.

“You’re not even from Korea…”

It’s not like he’d think that because of my Korean pronunciation.

“And your passport’s fake.”

I don’t know which passport he meant, but sure, that’s true.

“Why’s a guy like that sticking to Sinwoo?”

He set the glass down and leaned forward, pressing his body close to the table. As he got closer, the five burly figures lined up behind him twitched their shoulders.

I pretended not to notice their tension and only sniffed the champagne’s aroma.

“Hey. What’s your goal? Huh?”

Kwon Yeongwoo licked his lips.

“Money? Or do you need an alpha?”

Then he giggled to himself, finding something funny.

“If that’s the case, you made a dumb choice. Kwon Sinwoo, of all people?”

If I let him go on, his tacky imagination might run wild, so I said calmly.

“None of your business.”

Kwon Yeongwoo’s eyes narrowed, and a silent laugh escaped.

“Does Sinwoo know about you?”

“If he knows, he knows. If not, he doesn’t.”

I replied halfheartedly.

Meanwhile, The Rock reappeared and started setting out appetizers. Duck liver pâté wrapped in pastry with a raspberry and mustard sauce, deviled eggs stuffed with crabmeat, thickly sliced baguette, salted butter, and olive tapenade. Laughably French.

“If I were Sinwoo, I’d want to know.”

With steaming, freshly made food before him, Kwon Yeongwoo kept spouting appetite-killing nonsense.

“He got quite a scolding from the chairman over this, so he’d definitely want to know about you.”

“The chairman?”

Finally, a topic worth a gram of my interest.

“The chaebol chairman?”

At my question, Kwon Yeongwoo let out a short “Hah!”

“Yeah. The chaebol chairman.”

“What’s the chaebol chairman to you?”

Come to think of it, didn’t Kwon Sinwoo say he’d visited the chairman’s house? Not your average boss, then?

At my question, Kwon Yeongwoo’s eyes widened, and his mouth formed an exaggerated O.

“Oh. You didn’t know?”

Why the hell should I know about the connection between the chaebol chairman, this pervert, and Kwon Sinwoo?

“Our Lady Kwon Myeongsuk.”

Kwon Yeongwoo clasped his hands primly and pressed them to his chest. Even more perverted.

“Our beloved and respected grandmother.”

“The chaebol chairman is your grandmother?”

“…”

Kwon Yeongwoo fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

“…Yeah.”

“Then why did your grandmother scold Kwon Sinwoo?”

“Scold…”

Kwon Yeongwoo shut his mouth again.

A few seconds later, he tapped his casted shoulder and said.

“Didn’t Sinwoo tell you? Because of this.”

It took me three seconds to process. Three seconds later, I looked back and forth between his shoulder cast and his face.

“Come on…”

I was dumbfounded.

“How old are you, tattling to your grandma about getting beaten up by me?”

“The phrasing isn’t great, but yeah, that’s about it.”

Kwon Yeongwoo replied, slightly raising one eyebrow.

“And I didn’t actually tattle on you.”

His face shifted back to a completely artificial calm.

“Hmm. You’re on Sinwoo’s side, right? So, strictly speaking, it was a fight between me and Sinwoo. Or rather, I got one-sidedly beaten.”

He tapped his cast again with his finger.

“Must be so proud of getting one-sidedly beaten.”

At my sarcasm, Kwon Yeongwoo pulled the corner of his mouth into a smirk.

“Well, I’m a fragile standard human, so I’m not ashamed of getting beaten by you. You should be the one ashamed for hitting me.”

“Not ashamed of drugging me?”

“That’s a herbivore’s way of surviving, you could say.”

The guy kept spouting nonsense. I cut him off.

“So you ran to the chaebol chairman and tattled? Said Kwon Sinwoo hit you?”

“What can I do?”

He squinted into a smile, clasped his hands, and rested his elbows on the table.

“When she asked how my shoulder got like this, I couldn’t exactly say I got beaten up by the omega Sinwoo’s hanging out with, could I?”

The phrase “hanging out with” didn’t seem to carry some nuanced Korean double meaning. But there was no need to indulge a pervert who deliberately chose crude words to provoke me.

When I didn’t react, Kwon Yeongwoo tilted his head side to side, as if bored.

“Well, anyway.”

He picked up a plastic spoon.

“Let’s eat. I put some effort into the food… Like it?”

The food was cooling to lukewarm. Instead of answering, I stabbed a deviled egg with a plastic fork.

“It’d be nicer to eat just the two of us, but you’ll understand a fragile standard human like me, right?”

Kwon Yeongwoo said, spreading his arms. My gaze shifted past his shoulder to the five burly guys lined up behind him. Their eyes meticulously tracked my every move. Hmph. I glanced down at the plastic fork. Sorry, but I’m confident in bare-knuckle fighting. I don’t need this to crack the pervert’s melon sitting across from me—it’d take five seconds tops.

“It’s good food this time, so eat without worry. Nothing weird’s in it. Unless the chef disobeyed my orders, that is.”

Kwon Yeongwoo kept rambling.

“Speaking of drugs, though. Did it hit you well that day? Must’ve been rough with the drugs—you should’ve rested more before moving.”

I shot him a glance.

Across the paper plate and its artfully arranged food, Kwon Yeongwoo looked at me with a smiling face.

“Sinwoo’s something else too. If he came, he could’ve at least said hi. Four months or not, I’m still his senior.”

He babbled as if he and Kwon Sinwoo were close, but it was hardly worth listening to.

“You must’ve had a hard time moving in that condition too, right? Hah, that Sinwoo guy. No consideration for omegas. If it were me, I’d treat you more… delicately. Like a pearl or a diamond.”

In my common sense, treating someone like a pearl or diamond isn’t called consideration, but this pervert’s common sense seemed different.

The Rock reappeared.

The barely touched appetizer plates were cleared, and new paper plates were set down. Goose leg confit, spice-heavy grilled lamb ribs, cassoulet stew with pork rind and white beans, French-style potato gratin… Every dish, from its aroma to its ingredients, was authentically French, but the serving order was haphazard, and the dishes didn’t harmonize. They’d put effort into the wine pairings, though. Five types of wine came out. Naturally, I didn’t touch them.

I didn’t want to be a fool twice…

Kwon Yeongwoo silently watched me, then gestured to The Rock to pick a wine. The Rock took my untouched champagne and set down a new Burgundy glass (plastic, of course).

“This is better for casual drinking. Goes well with goose and lamb… If you’re eating more cassoulet, a Malbec or Médoc would be better. Want those?”

He asked me.

“Nah, I’d rather have a cola. Not that I’d drink it if you gave me one.”

At my reply, Kwon Yeongwoo snickered.

“Hmm. Normally, I’d think you’re an empty-headed idiot…”

“I still think you’re an idiot.”

“Your take on garage wine was pretty interesting. It’s not just some cheap swill, right?”

Kwon Yeongwoo ignored my words and kept talking to himself.

If this was how it was going to be, why bother eating with someone? He could’ve dined with a doll or a mannequin.

“Our tastes differ a bit, but that makes it more intriguing. Music, art, wine. A million times better than cheap stuff desperately trying to please me.”

Kwon Yeongwoo himself, saying this, wasn’t the least bit intriguing to me. He was one of the million stereotypical rich idiots worldwide. For reference, Mexico has about a hundred thousand of them.

When I didn’t respond, he seemed bored and changed the topic.

“How’s Sinwoo? Should we arrange a three-way meeting next time? Could be fun. If wine’s not your thing, how about Japanese? Zen-style French-Japanese. With warm sake. It’d be even better on a rainy day…”

Blah, blah, blah—none of it was interesting.

“Kwon Sinwoo doesn’t like that stuff.”

I cut off his nonsense.

Kwon Yeongwoo’s eyes narrowed.

“…Well, yeah.”

His voice dropped eerily.

“Our Executive Director Kwon Sinwoo. So lofty and aloof. Well, our chairman seems to like that about him, though.”

His gleaming black eyes scanned me up and down.

“While we’re on the topic, let me ask. What does he like?”

Before I could answer, more questions followed.

“He doesn’t just drink dew, does he… What’s his style in bed? Probably boring, right? Just missionary? Isn’t that lacking for you?”

His snake-like eyes stared at me, as if expecting some reaction. I didn’t look away and shrugged once.

“At least Kwon Sinwoo’s an alpha.”

Whether it’s enough or not, a standard human like Kwon Yeongwoo had no business commenting.

At that moment, a crack finally appeared in Kwon Yeongwoo’s stone-mask face.

He went silent.

After a long pause, he slowly opened his mouth again.

“Sure. But in my experience, omegas don’t exactly need alphas…”

He slowly scanned me from top to bottom, licking his lips.

“In bed, I mean.”

It was so disgusting my arm nearly broke out in goosebumps. But I’m not some soft kid who’d blush and panic over this anymore.

“That’s your opinion.”

Then I added one more line.

“Probably fake orgasms.”

And my voice was probably loud enough for the five burly guys lined up behind him to hear clearly.

Kwon Yeongwoo stared at me for a moment, then shrugged.

“Want to test if it was fake or not?”

“Sorry, I’m not into tragic interspecies romance. Especially not with a pervert with an omega fetish.”

“Why? Not curious?”

He kept pestering me. Of course, I wasn’t curious. Because I already know the real thing.

At my lukewarm reaction, Kwon Yeongwoo chuckled softly.

This conversation, this meal, and the pervert in front of me were all starting to bore me.

I tapped the plastic fork with my fingertips—tap, tap—while staring into Kwon Yeongwoo’s eyes.

“What’s the point?”

At my question, Kwon Yeongwoo tilted his head slightly with a raised corner of his mouth. The gesture vaguely reminded me of Kwon Sinwoo, which was irritating.

“Come work for me.”

And that one sentence was far more irritating than everything else combined.

Kwon Yeongwoo kept yapping.

“I don’t know what Sinwoo promised you, but I’ll double it, no questions asked.”

Hmph. Double. Not an appealing offer at all.

“Sorry, but Kwon Sinwoo isn’t my employer.”

At that moment, Kwon Yeongwoo furrowed his brow.

“What?”

Instead of answering, I continued.

“And no matter how much you offer, I’m not working with you.”

“…I’m curious why.”

“You drugged me and tried to rape me. Why would I trust a guy like that to work with? Am I brain-dead?”

Kwon Yeongwoo was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Hmm. Trust issues. Fair enough. I get it.”

The urge to beat this guy up was growing stronger inside me.

He said, “Alright,” and shrugged his unbroken shoulder.

“I’m the type to accept fair outcomes. I’ll back off cleanly this time.”

But he didn’t back off cleanly. Instead, he leaned closer over the table. His snake-like eyes drew nearer.

“How about one last piece of advice?”

Advice from a pervert.

Whether he noticed my indifference or not, Kwon Yeongwoo smirked and leaned in, locking eyes with me as if delivering some grand revelation, and whispered.

“Don’t trust Sinwoo too much.”

And his eyes laughed silently.

“Oh. You don’t trust him, do you?”

I gave a bored look. The least trustworthy person in Korea was the pervert sitting in front of me. Instead of sifting through the nonsense of a guy who drugged and threatened me with a gun for some maybe-true-maybe-not tidbit, I’d rather just not believe him.

Kwon Yeongwoo grinned, tapping the plastic wine glass with a plastic fork—ting, ting, ting.

“Sinwoo doesn’t nurture partners. A few rare exceptions, sure. But those are, well, exceptions.”

I was reaching the point where I no longer cared why this pervert sat me down to ramble about things I wasn’t interested in.

“Working with a freelancer like you, not even as an employee?”

It wasn’t that funny, but Kwon Yeongwoo giggled like it was.

“I doubt it’s for purely safe and clean reasons… If I were you, I’d be more cautious.”

He spouted his half-baked advice, and I let it all slip out the other ear.

That’s when it happened.

A sharp vibration buzzed from inside Kwon Yeongwoo’s clothes.

His nonstop chattering mouth snapped shut as if glued.

The high ceiling made the phone’s vibration echo through the warehouse.

He reflexively met my eyes. I caught a fleeting moment of hesitation in his gaze. Hmph. This was the climax of this tedious dinner, the most interesting moment yet.

I flashed him a grin.

“Answer it.”

Kwon Yeongwoo stared at me silently. With a smile, I slowly spun the plastic fork in my hand. The blunt edge twirled in my fingers, then stopped, pointing exactly at him.

The phone kept vibrating relentlessly.

“Answer it.”

I said again.

Kwon Yeongwoo’s stiff face slowly relaxed. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, and his narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile.

“Where’d you learn to handle guys like that?”

“Natural talent.”

As I said that, I slammed the fork I’d been spinning onto the table. The plastic fork shattered, and the metal table buckled under my fist with a thud. Plates crashed to the floor, and lavish, spice-heavy food spilled everywhere.

The five burly guys behind Kwon Yeongwoo charged at me.

Half a second. I vaulted over the crumpled table faster.

Kwon Yeongwoo’s eyebrows twisted, his pupils dilating massively. I reached out. The moment his shirt collar caught in my fingertips, I yanked him toward me with force. He came at me like a feather. At the same time, I spun, wrapping my arm around his neck. The taut artery pulsed frantically under my forearm. His harsh, ragged breathing filled my ears like it would burst.

“Alright.”

I whispered softly into Kwon Yeongwoo’s face.

“Now it’s getting interesting.”

No need to mention it’d take less than a second to snap his neck.

I scanned the five burly guys over Kwon Yeongwoo’s shoulder, their eyes red with rage. They were panting, clearly wanting to kill me on the spot, but they also knew they couldn’t. Not while Kwon Yeongwoo’s life was in my hands.

“Haha…”

Kwon Yeongwoo laughed softly.

“This is what makes it fun.”

“Of course. I was thinking this way’s more fun too.”

I matched his nonsense with nonsense, slipping my free hand into his clothes. “Moving too fast, aren’t we?” Kwon Yeongwoo yapped. I ignored him and felt his chest. A phone was in his jacket’s inner pocket. I pulled it out. [1 Missed Call]

“Call back.”

I held the phone up to Kwon Yeongwoo’s face.

He slowly unlocked the phone with his fingerprint.

A brief dial tone followed. Fortunately, it wasn’t long enough to test my patience.

Click. The moment the [1 Missed Call] recipient answered, I snatched the phone from Kwon Yeongwoo.

“Hey.”

And [1 Missed Call] responded after a short silence.

[It’s you…]

A grating, unpleasant mechanical voice. Distorted.

Bingo.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

At my friendly reply, the Platform started yammering loudly in its cracked mechanical voice.

[I don’t know how you got that phone, but it’s intriguing. You really do catch attention…]

I had no interest in hearing about the Platform’s perverted fascination, following Kwon Yeongwoo’s.

“Sadly, I had a very uninteresting dinner with your partner here.”

Not just uninteresting—downright unpleasant.

“If this dinner ends like this, I’ll be really disappointed.”

Obviously.

Disappointed enough to want to kill Kwon Yeongwoo on the spot.

[…]

“Anyway, your partner’s life is in my hands right now. Got nothing to say? Preferably something very interesting. Interesting enough to lift my mood, ruined by this awful dinner.”

[Now…]

The Platform slowly began to speak.

[Are you with the Director?]

“Are your ears clogged? I said I had a very unpleasant dinner.”

“Too bad. I was enjoying it.”

Kwon Yeongwoo, his neck in my grip, piped up with his glib tongue. Pretty bold. Well, I could give him that much.

I lightly tightened, then loosened my arm around his neck. His breathing quickened, and small, choking coughs escaped. The five idiots behind me, never dropping their guard, glared like they’d kill me. Quite a pleasing look.

“How long you gonna keep me waiting? Got no story interesting enough to stop me from killing this pervert right now?”

[What do you want?]

“Oh. I hate when people say that.”

My voice dropped. At that moment, veins bulged violently on Kwon Yeongwoo’s neck.

“Hey! Platform! I’ll take your deal!”

The shout was sudden. But curious what nonsense he’d spew, I let him talk instead of snapping his neck.

“I’ll help with the deal! I’ll set it up, so go wild! But!”

Kwon Yeongwoo cackled like a madman.

“In return, change the terms. After it’s done, give me this guy! Haha! Alive, of course!”

I felt the Platform’s mechanical breathing quicken over the phone. Hiss, hiss, rough breaths followed, then the call cut off.

At the same time, Kwon Yeongwoo bit my arm. Simultaneously, the five beasts, always waiting to snap my neck, charged at me.

I dropped the disconnected phone, dodging a fist flying at my face. Chops came down from both sides. I dodged those, wrapped my forearm around one guy’s arm, and threw him backward. A crunch as bones and joints shattered together. Immediately, a kick sliced through the air. I rolled on the ground, dodging it. The brutal kick that landed where I’d been smashed the concrete floor. Stone fragments flew.

In a split second—0.3 seconds—I caught a whiff of gunpowder at my nose. My gaze instinctively shot through the burly guys to the one at the back. He was pulling a gun from his clothes. A .38 caliber.

I reflexively sprang at the nearest burly guy.

We rolled on the floor as one. His fist slammed into my cheek. The impact rattled my skull, but I could take it. I bit his ear and drove my knee into his solar plexus.

“Argh! Urk!”

He screamed and collapsed.

Two others charged at me.

It became a melee.

The guy with the gun hesitated. His stance was that of a trained pro, but sadly, he lacked experience in a firefight. No resolve to shoot his allies too. Of course. Korea’s a peaceful, law-abiding country.

I grabbed the wrist of a guy charging from behind and flipped him over. A compound fracture from wrist to forearm to shoulder blade. Hmm. Perfect throw. Another guy threw a short knee kick at my side. I smashed my elbow down on his knee. He staggered. I rushed the wobbling guy’s chest, using his body as a shield, and charged at the gunman.

“Fucker!”

The bastard finally threw the gun and rushed me.

Alright.

I slid across the floor, reaching for the gun the guy had thrown. The moment the grip touched my fingertips, I grabbed it tightly. Twisting my body as I slid, I pulled the trigger.

Bang—!

The gunshot echoed deafeningly through the warehouse.

The first bullet hit one of the burly guys in the shoulder. Bang! Click! An empty casing hit the floor, and the second shot fired.

“Argh!”

Another guy collapsed, blood gushing from his knee.

The one with the bullet in his shoulder cursed and launched a fierce kick at me. It grazed my side narrowly. Whoosh! The air tore with the sound. If it had landed squarely, it would’ve shattered at least eight ribs. I twisted my body and slammed the gun’s grip down on his crown. A crisp thud, like a watermelon splitting, rang out. It was lively enough to cap off a battle fifty million times more thrilling than the earlier meal.

“Phew…”

I wiped the bloodstain on my chin with the back of my hand and looked around.

Five idiots lay sprawled, either unconscious or groaning in pain.

Kwon Yeongwoo was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s good at escaping, I’ll give him that.”

I muttered to myself, twirling the gun on my finger.

As I leaped over one of the writhing fools on the floor, Kwon Yeongwoo’s smug voice from earlier flashed in my mind, utterly certain everything would end in their favor.

Accepting the proposal?

Helping with the deal?

My mind spun rapidly.

The Platform is in Manila right now. If they’re making a deal in Manila with Kwon Yeongwoo’s help, what kind of deal would it be?

A situation where the Platform can’t make a deal alone…

My thoughts finally landed on my real partner.

Kwon Sinwoo’s takedown of the Platform’s paper company in Manila.

With their cash flow blocked, the Platform can’t move money freely. Unusable cash… a deal…

“Hmm.”

Now the situation was coming together in my head.

Obvious.

I know guys like Kwon Yeongwoo and the Platform all too well.

Trash with heads full of self-important crap.

Normally, I wouldn’t even bother dealing with them…

Twirling the gun on my finger, I strode out of the warehouse, leaving the five groaning idiots behind.

[Manila? Probably got all sorts of goods there. Some pretty old big players are around…]

Edmundo’s rapid Spanish was a welcome sound.

[Why Manila all of a sudden?]

“Well, got some business. Can you check if there’s any deal happening there soon?”

[In Manila?]

Edmundo made a clacking noise. It sounded familiar. Like a metal spoon hitting prison bars…

[Haven’t heard of any deals, but there’s some stuff there. Originally meant for Yokohama, I think it was about eighteen million dollars, maybe a bit more… Japanese funds, if I recall. What got it tied up? Something went wrong with a Shanghai auction last year, I think. I’d need to dig to know for sure. Want me to look into it?]

“Not yet.”

[Yoon, what the hell are you doing in Korea? Didn’t you say it was for tourism?]

Edmundo’s voice turned slightly serious.

[Does Martin know you’re in Korea?]

Instead of answering, I let out a short “Hmph” through my nose. Edmundo whined in a nasal, panicked tone.

[I knew it. When are you coming back to Mexico? You said you’d handle Camargo.]

“Of course I’ll handle it.”

I replied, reaffirming my promise to Edmundo.

“I’ll head back to Mexico as soon as this is done.”

[So when’s that gonna be?]

“When it’s done. All roads lead to Rome, you know.”

[…What kind of nonsense is that?]

Edmundo, too dumb to grasp my intellectual metaphor, asked in a dumb voice. I said, “Whatever,” and hung up.

I turned around.

Seoul’s night sky sparkled with the headlights of cars flowing along the Han River. Above the darkness, a dazzling city of lights stood tall. I checked the map app on my phone again.

[Seoran Gwanghwamun Headquarters]

Late at night. The glass building, lights still on, pierced the darkness like the Tower of Babel. The spacious lobby, half-lit, was still bright and quiet.

I slipped into the lobby.

CCTV cameras gleamed from every angle. I walked along the dim shadows where the walls met the ceiling, then vaulted over the entry gate. No alarm sounded. Instead of the locked emergency stairs, I took the elevator. The digital display ticked up rapidly, and the high-speed elevator soon dropped me at my target floor.

The corridor was lined with heavy carpet. The marble walls were a slightly tacky color. Turning a corner, I found a wooden door. [Executive Director Kwon Sinwoo’s Office] I pushed it open without hesitation.

Of course, the door wasn’t locked.

The city’s night view through the full-length window caught my eye first. I was briefly captivated by the flowing lights of Gangbyeonbuk-ro.

“Mr. Hakyung.”

A calm voice snapped me back.

I turned toward the voice.

It was Kwon Sinwoo.

He rose from his chair, picking up a small remote. Automatic blinds covered the twinkling night view.

“What’s the matter?”

“Not gonna ask how I got in?”

Kwon Sinwoo didn’t answer, instead walking around the desk toward me.

I glanced over his shoulder at the large desk. On it sat a tablet PC, its lock screen glowing as if he’d just been using it. Two powered-off monitors, a laptop, a wireless mouse, a slightly worn paper folder, and a rolling fountain pen nearby. Everything, surprisingly, showed signs of use.

While I scanned the desk, Kwon Sinwoo reached me. I looked at his shirt, buttoned meticulously to the collar even at midnight, and the tie tightly knotted around his neck.

“Not uncomfortable?”

I reached out and slipped a finger into the loop of his tie.

His eyelashes twitched slightly.

I tugged, and the tie loosened. Kwon Sinwoo didn’t resist, saying calmly.

“It’s not uncomfortable.”

For someone claiming that, he didn’t stop me. Interesting. I chuckled lowly, fully pulling the tie from his shirt. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. I toyed with the top button of his pristine shirt, teasing it with my fingertips, then let go and stepped back.

I looked around the room.

It was quite spacious, with a large fabric sofa in the center of a light-colored carpet. A metal coffee table had geometric legs like a modern art piece, and a large abstract painting hung on one wall. The oil painting, slathered with dozens of warm colors like flower petals, was bright and cozy, matching the room’s decor. Hmm. Unlike the tacky marble walls in the corridor, this felt more like Kwon Sinwoo’s apartment. The kind of vibe meticulously curated by a professional.

I turned back.

Kwon Sinwoo was watching me silently.

Meeting his gaze, I pulled the gun from my coat. Even at the sudden sight of it, Kwon Sinwoo didn’t flinch. His black eyes landed on the gun in my hand.

“This. Kwon Yeongwoo had it.”

I hooked my finger on the trigger and spun it.

“He told me not to trust you.”

Only then did Kwon Sinwoo’s eyes shift from the gun to me.

“…Is that so?”

He asked back, hands hanging limply as if devoid of motivation. I studied his black eyelashes and the forlorn tips of his eyebrows for a moment, then asked abruptly.

“What do you think?”

“I…”

Kwon Sinwoo trailed off, as if hesitating.

“I was thinking I’d like you to trust me, Mr. Hakyung.”

That made me laugh. I let out a short “Haha!” and Kwon Sinwoo blinked.

Looking into his transparent eyes, I grinned.

“You’re too obvious, you know?”

Kwon Sinwoo’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. I shrugged.

“About liking me.”

At that, he gazed down at me silently. A sculpted, cool face. Narrow, elongated eyes. But those eyes never wavered or avoided mine. He spoke calmly.

“I…”

“You?”

“Is it wrong for me to be fond of you?”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t stop. Tears even welled up slightly. After laughing for a while, I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes with my fingertips. Kwon Sinwoo’s face remained composed, but I caught a hint of bewilderment in his black eyes.

“Don’t trust Sinwoo too much.” Kwon Yeongwoo and his nonsense were all pointless. Why wouldn’t I trust a man as open as a book?

I stepped toward him again. I tugged at the collar of his now-tieless shirt. Kwon Sinwoo obediently bent down.

“That guy’s weird.”

Without warning, I kissed his cheek. The alpha’s shoulder stiffened. Laughing softly, I kissed his other cheek. His tense shoulders slowly relaxed. His body’s reaction, as honest as his expression, was funny and cute.

“Why would I doubt a guy this obvious? It’s just a waste of time and energy.”

“…You’re the only one who says that.”

Kwon Sinwoo said with a displeased look.

“Oh, sure.”

I replied halfheartedly, handing him the gun I’d been holding.

“Kwon Yeongwoo had this. Probably has more. Can you trace it?”

Kwon Sinwoo examined the gun.

“It’s smuggled.”

The barrel disassembled into five pieces in seconds under his long, sturdy fingers.

“The slide and grip are custom, the magazine is ours but modified. Tracing it isn’t impossible, but it wouldn’t mean much.”

Fair enough. Even in a gun-controlled country like Korea, tracking every custom handgun isn’t feasible.

I nodded and vaulted over the sofa’s backrest, plopping down.

“So what now?”

Kwon Sinwoo toyed with the disassembled gun, then looked at me.

His blank face made me sigh.

“Kwon Yeongwoo’s trying to mess up your fox hunt. You just gonna let him?”

“Fox hunt?”

“ Isn’t it?”

A perverse hunting method, blocking a complex fox den’s exits one by one to drive the fox to the final one.

“Weren’t you luring the Platform?”

With their paper company in Manila busted, the Platform can’t move funds freely. They’d be looking for a powerful launderer willing to take dirty money. Buying cocaine or marijuana and reselling it to launder the funds would give the Platform room to maneuver again. A million and a half dollars could buy a clean Canadian identity, and another five or six hundred thousand could get them to Europe.

“Cocaine, heroin, LSD, marijuana… Hmm. If it were you, SS109?”

Kwon Sinwoo, who’d been staring at me, lowered his gaze slightly and spoke.

“You’re right.”

He placed the reassembled rifle on the desk and continued.

“My team’s preparing a sting operation. Neither Kwon Yeongwoo nor the Platform has caught on yet, so if it goes well, we can draw the Platform out with this deal.”

“Hmm.”

A sting operation.

“Seems like Kwon Yeongwoo and the Platform are prepping a deal. Is that your deal?”

“…No.”

Well, damn.

“We already knew about that deal, but…”

Kwon Sinwoo’s eyebrows twitched slightly. A glint flashed and vanished in his black eyes. For such a calm, good-natured guy, it was a notable sign of displeasure.

I blinked and asked.

“So what’re you gonna do?”

“We’ll have to make a more attractive offer than theirs.”

“Oh, come on. That’s it?”

At my retort, Kwon Sinwoo looked at me, puzzled, as if wondering what was wrong. Was he serious? My jaw dropped.

Naive. So naive!

This isn’t some fair fight, and a more attractive offer?

Ridiculous!

“Ugh… You’re too nice.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t get how you’re an arms dealer.”

“You’re the only one who says that.”

Kwon Sinwoo said again, smiling faintly. The soft, gentle smile, so unlike an arms dealer, sent a sudden spark surging through my gut. I leaped off the sofa and rushed at him.

Kwon Sinwoo staggered, catching me in his arms. He stumbled back a couple of steps, his legs hitting the desk with a clunk. I spread my legs, wrapping them around his waist, grabbed his cheeks with both hands, and kissed him. Our lips met. Pressing deeper, his mouth opened.

After a long kiss, I pulled back.

Kwon Sinwoo was now leaning against the desk, half-sitting, with me straddling him. When I tickled his cheek with my fingers, he tilted his head, gently pressing his cheek into my palm. The effortless move sent shivers down my spine, my heart racing.

“Bet you’ve been told you’re a good kisser a lot.”

At my question, Kwon Sinwoo looked up at me.

“Is this an interrogation?”

“What? You’re pretty sharp in moments like this.”

I laughed, and Kwon Sinwoo narrowed his eyes, smiling faintly.

Pheromones were slowly rising.

I unbuttoned his shirt one by one. Pop, pop, the shirt parted with each button, revealing his chest. I pressed my lips to the hollow where his collarbones met, nibbling them with my teeth as I undid the rest of the buttons down to his belt. When the shirt opened to his waist, I slipped my hand inside. Firm, toned muscles and elastic skin met my touch. My finger caught on his navel.

“Ugh.”

Kwon Sinwoo let out a short groan.

My face flushed like it was on fire.

I grabbed his belt with both hands. Click! I yanked the unfastened belt wide, parting his pants. I slipped my hand inside. Under his underwear, I found his half-erect penis. The firm shaft twitched in my palm. Kwon Sinwoo, letting out a sharp “Hmph,” grabbed my wrist. His veined hand tensed, then relaxed, as if unsure what to do.

“You…”

He furrowed his brow, breathing heavily.

“You need to learn a bit more restraint.”

Not exactly something an alpha should say. Instead of pointing that out, I pressed our foreheads together, looked into his eyes, and asked.

“How do you want it? What do you like?”

At my question, Kwon Sinwoo breathed heavily, his eyebrows knitting tightly.

“For now…”

He grabbed my wrist with one hand and reached over the desk with the other. A wallet. From it, he pulled a condom.

“Whoa.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You carry these now?”

“Thanks to you.”

Hmph. The alpha who’d held me back in the car, citing no condoms, now pulled one from his wallet. It felt like I was some seductive omega corrupting a prim and proper alpha. Not a bad feeling, honestly.

I put the condom on his penis and guided it in. I’d assumed the second time would be easier than the first, but I was wrong. It wouldn’t go in smoothly, and I had to straddle him, legs spread, grunting like an idiot for a while. By the time it finally went in, my body was drenched in sweat. It was about halfway in. It hurt a little, felt good a little. I knew what came next anyway. Kwon Sinwoo gently cupped my cheek with one hand, pressed his lips to the bridge of my nose, and held my waist with the other, rocking me slowly back and forth.

“Ah…!”

I wrapped both arms around him. His breath poured over my cheek. It carried a sweet, pheromone-laced scent.

For something so ill-timed and out-of-place, the sex lasted quite a while.