Mine to Break Chapter 3.2 - Sponsors

A business that even monetizes death draws frowns from fellow gangsters, but it’s a structure overflowing with blind money, perfectly optimized for burying secrets forever.

Some fools, puffed up with fancy corporate executive titles, refused to take in the Yongwon crew, so a mid-level employee ended up managing a mere club.

Sahyeok, instantly grasping the situation, pulled a thick wad of bills from his wallet, signaling their hardship. The two burly men, hesitant to take the hefty stack outright, glanced at Jaewook for approval. At his urging nod, they quickly extended their hands.

“Thank you, sir!”

“Are you trying to burst my eardrums?”

Sahyeok smirked, tossing in a quip, exuding the air of a respected superior. In reality, Geum Sahyeok’s standing within the organization rivaled that of his grandfather. Sahyeok, who bore an uncanny resemblance to the man who transformed the ragtag Dosal gang into the Dowon Group, was a dominant alpha by lineage.

Of course, earning the admiration of low-level members took more than just innate traits. If you were to pick the person most suited to the “Dosal” roots of the Dowon Group, it would undoubtedly be Geum Sahyeok. On the ground, he was less a butcher and more a slaughterer.

The two burly men, now even more deferential, opened the heavy door. As Sahyeok walked down the dim corridor, the thumping beat of simplistic music grew closer. The tastes of these so-called educated elites were uniformly crude and cheap.

Crude and cheap is fine by me.

What Geum Sahyeok scoffed at was their hypocrisy, cloaked in a veneer of sophistication. These spineless, gutless types were easy to manipulate with a little groveling. For Sahyeok, it was a profitable deal.

“Well, well, Chairman Geum!”

Leaving Han Jaewook behind, Geum Sahyeok opened another door and entered. Jung Changkyung, belting out a trot song to the accompaniment of a five-piece band, greeted him with a booming voice.

“You’re looking sharp, old man?”

“Prime location, prime vibes! Isn’t this all thanks to you, Chairman Geum, for setting us up in this perfect spot?”

The so-called “afterparty” was stacked with expensive liquor and gourmet snacks, where naked prostitutes, male and female, diligently earned their keep. Prime location, indeed—a fitting metaphor.

The policy institute’s advisory board consisted of exactly thirty-five members: former and current judges, prosecutors, lawyers, and investigators, all meticulously slotted in. The escorts “serving” them were young and attractive, regardless of gender. Every one of them was a recessive or dominant trait carrier. Securing fifty-five omegas, a rare commodity, was only possible because of the club’s backing by Dowon.

The beta obsession with playing with trait carriers was a long-standing vice. As the only alpha in the room, Sahyeok felt no particular disgust toward the betas, who went to absurd lengths to extract pheromones they couldn’t even sense. It’s human nature to covet what you can’t have.

“You must be tired from the trip; have a drink!”

At Jung Changkyung’s words, a chorus of agreement erupted like a protest.

“That’s right, that’s right!”

“Why’s Chairman Geum so busy that he keeps us waiting after inviting us? Manager Jung isn’t exactly free either!”

“What’s with all the fuss? Aren’t we like brothers?”

Jung Changkyung, laughing heartily to quell the complaints, spilled the contents of a 500cc beer mug onto the floor and handed it to Sahyeok.

“Take it.”

Jung Changkyung’s provocation—treating even the boldest gangsters like dirt under his fingernails—was met with a broad smile from Geum Sahyeok, who politely accepted the empty mug.

“Hm?”

“No, I…”

A sudden gasp erupted from all directions. Sahyeok, setting down the beer mug, grabbed an ice bucket and dumped its contents. He held the bucket, three times larger than the mug, out to Jung Changkyung with both hands.

“This little brother will gladly accept as much as you pour, big brother.”

“Hah…! Haha!”

Jung Changkyung, initially stunned, burst into laughter, and the onlookers, who had been holding their breath, joined in one by one.

“They said your temper’s just like your grandfather’s. Even a generation removed, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

“You flatter me.”

With a slight smile, Sahyeok downed the bucket brimming with liquor in one go.

“This little brother interrupted the flow, so let’s get the party started, big brother.”

Clang—the bucket rolled, and Sahyeok, shedding his jacket, tugged at his tie. As he unbuttoned his shirt, multiple pairs of eyes latched onto his torso.

“Hahaha, hahahaha!”

Jung Changkyung, watching the scene, clapped and roared with laughter.

“Our little brother knows how to party!”

As Geum Sahyeok, the only one still clothed, stripped off his shirt and pants without hesitation, everyone in the VIP room became stark naked.

ᢉ𐭩

“Damn, our little brother’s got some serious presence, huh?”

“Haha, we were planning to give you the full course tonight anyway. You’re too kind.”

Kind, my ass. What’s he gonna do if we don’t give him the full course, this gangster punk?

Jung Changkyung, reflexively comparing his own member to Sahyeok’s impressively large one, even flaccid, cursed inwardly. It wasn’t just the size. Scanning Sahyeok’s perfectly chiseled body with a resentful glare, Jung Changkyung’s eyes suddenly lit up. Most people would shrink a bit when stripped bare, but Sahyeok’s brazen confidence irked him, and he smirked, seizing an opportunity.

“Not a single tattoo on that body? People might mistake you for something other than a gangster punk. Hahaha!”

“My natural bloodline stands out, tattoo or not, doesn’t it?”

Laughing openly, admitting he’s a gangster punk as Jung claimed, Sahyeok signaled the five-piece band, which had been quietly watching, to start playing. The band, also down to their underwear, struck up the beat. The familiar rhythm of Jung Changkyung’s favorite song flowed smoothly. But Jung, already in a foul mood, lashed out.

“Enough! No more singing.”

Throwing down the mic in a huff, Jung Changkyung claimed the head seat. The band, about to stop, continued playing at Sahyeok’s gesture.

“Damn it, are these omegas here even real? Can you even smell their pheromones or whatever?”

“This little brother guarantees it, big brother.”

Guarantees, from a gangster punk?

Jung Changkyung sneered, his eyes glinting.

“Right. You’re an alpha, aren’t you?”

Pretending he didn’t already know, Jung Changkyung grinned slyly.

“Are those pheromones as impressive as the rumors say? They claim one whiff from an alpha makes omegas lose control and make a mess.”

“Curious, are you?”

“Damn right, when they say omegas act like dogs in heat, wouldn’t you be curious, little brother?”

The beta envy and inferiority toward dominant alphas were a societal issue. Jung thought he was insulting Sahyeok by treating him like an animal, but Sahyeok didn’t miss the deep-seated insecurity beneath it.

“As you can see, it’s not mating season, so I can’t show you them acting like dogs in heat.”

Swirling a half-filled whiskey glass, Sahyeok scanned the room. He downed the whiskey in one gulp, set the glass down, and raised the corners of his mouth.

“But I can show you a flood from an omega’s crotch.”

“Oh-ho! That’s the spirit!”

Even though he was a gangster punk, the promise of a live porno from a supposed corporate affiliate head excited Jung Changkyung, who cheered unwittingly.

The VIP room, tense since Geum Sahyeok’s entrance, had relaxed somewhat with the music. The elites, eyeing Jung, were already indulging in the omega feast.

Casting a massive shadow, Geum Sahyeok stood and stepped barefoot onto the table. His weight made the sturdy wooden table creak, but he paid it no mind. Striding across the rectangular table laden with premium liquor and snacks, he stopped in the center.

“Ah!”

At the center, someone with their hips raised high was grabbed by the hair. Under the relatively bright lights, the face revealed was flushed red. The omega, who had been face-down on the table since before Sahyeok entered, straining their abdomen and flexing their anus as if excreting, was Song Yoonjo.

“…”

In Yoonjo’s hazy eyes, a massive, dark shadow loomed like a mountain. Backlit, Geum Sahyeok’s frame appeared even more menacing and imposing. Sweating profusely, Yoonjo, who had been pushing out a condom lodged in their gut with only sphincter strength, instinctively clasped their hands.

“I’m sorry… I messed up… ugh!”

Had they shifted position unwittingly? Were they too slow to expel? Or was it something else…

Yoonjo couldn’t think further. As their hair was yanked, dragging them across the table, dishes clattered noisily, crashing to the floor.

“Ugh!”

Just as Yoonjo’s head was about to hit the floor outside the table, Sahyeok grabbed their nape and yanked them up. Like a carp dragged ashore, Yoonjo’s sleek body went limp in Sahyeok’s grip. Recognizing Yoonjo’s face, Jung Changkyung showed disappointment.

“What are you gonna do with that?”

“It’s still an omega.”

“Right, an omega, they say. What was it… an idol trainee? They said it’s freshly awakened, tight as hell.”

Jung Changkyung, eyeing Yoonjo’s body slick with various fluids, sneered openly.

“Felt like you could fit four or five fists in there.”

Some punk named Park Changseong or whatever thought he could pass off such a loose omega for full price. The advisory board’s thirty-five members had their fill, and with the hole too worn to be useful, they put it on the table for a show just as the little brother arrived.

Finishing his explanation, Jung Changkyung glanced at the floor. About one centimeter off the ground, murky fluids dripped from the omega’s toes. A condom, filled with semen, slid down their thigh—one of many.

“Ugh…”

If choked, most would struggle or at least scratch the hand, but this omega, eyes rolling back, only panted without resistance, a curious sight.

A filthy masochist to boot. Where do they find such worthless trash?

The idea came from a lawyer, the head of a regional construction firm’s legal team. They had the omega, who’d been crawling to service the board’s members, laid out on the table, tied thirty-five used condoms together, and stuffed them inside. Without using hands, the omega was made to expel them with sphincter strength alone, taking five or six minutes per three or four condoms.

Should’ve choked it earlier.

With the omega’s limbs limp and sphincter slack, a couple more condoms slid down their thighs.

As expected, utterly useless trash.

Frowning, Jung Changkyung scanned the room for something else, then raised an eyebrow. The omega, limp like a broken puppet, had collapsed onto Sahyeok’s thigh. Sahyeok, who had slapped Yoonjo’s rear after choking their neck, sat casually on the table in front of Jung Changkyung.

“Not exactly a hole to satisfy with this.”

“Ah!”

As thick fingers plunged into the loose anus, Yoonjo, gasping for breath, screamed. Even that faded weakly under the palm pressing their nape. Subduing the squirming Yoonjo, Sahyeok added more fingers, from three to four. Four fingers, longer than an average man’s member, sank to the palm.

“Ah… ugh…”

Sahyeok spread his fingers, stirring the inner walls. The condoms tangled inside began to spin. Instead of pulling them out, Sahyeok pushed his palm deeper.

“Ahh…!”

Yoonjo’s leg slid off Sahyeok’s thigh in a spasm, exposing their spread crotch. Squelch, squelch—as long, thick fingers plunged to the palm repeatedly, wet friction sounds mixed with froth from the stretched rim. Whether a condom burst inside or Yoonjo was gushing, Sahyeok’s hand grew slick.

Jung Changkyung’s graying eyebrows twitched, fixated on the mucus dripping down Sahyeok’s arm. Sahyeok’s fingers, leaving the condoms inside, quickened. It was nearly fisting, short of shoving his whole hand in. Reading the heat in Jung’s eyes, Sahyeok added lazily,

“My cock doesn’t fit unless it’s this loose.”

“Ugh, uh, ugh!”

As Sahyeok sped up, Yoonjo’s buttocks reddened, unable to keep up with the force and pace, only letting out stifled moans. Yoonjo’s body was flipped again.

“Ah…”

As the hand, buried to the palm, withdrew, slick fluids gushed from the rubber-band-like anus. Yoonjo, too shocked to react, screamed when a massive cock pierced the barely closed hole.

“Aaah!”

Thrashing like in a seizure, Yoonjo’s throat was grabbed. Sahyeok, clutching Yoonjo’s chest like a vise with one hand, thrust upward with his hips.

“Ugh…!”

Holding Yoonjo like an embrace from behind, Sahyeok struck the inner walls, making Yoonjo retch. Instead of easing up, Sahyeok spread Yoonjo’s legs wide, hooking each over his thighs.

In front of Jung Changkyung, Yoonjo’s trembling thighs were splayed like a pinned frog. The cock, crushing their insides, writhed like a snake, swelling. As Yoonjo’s perineum pressed against Sahyeok’s balls, the connection sealed perfectly.

Spurt, spurt—clear fluid shot from Yoonjo’s half-erect cock. Then a stream of urine arced out, soaking the floor up to Jung’s feet. Unable to smell omega pheromones, Jung, entranced by Yoonjo, didn’t care about the piss staining his shoes, fixated on the stretched hole.

“Aah—ugh…!”

Yoonjo’s choking moans stopped as the hand on their throat tightened, mirrored by the grip on their chest. Thrust—Sahyeok drove upward. The overstretched rim, exposing red flesh, swallowed the thick cock and vanished.

“Hnng… hah…”

Yoonjo couldn’t move, only swaying limply to the relentless pounding. Tears wet their temples. Mixed with refluxed bile, nosebleed and drool spilled from their slack mouth.

Slap, slap, slap—the massive cock coiled in Yoonjo’s gut struck their buttocks, making their slender abdomen twitch. Their lower belly bulged, navel distorted, thin skin rippling.

“Ugh… hnng…”

As if on display, each thrust churned Yoonjo’s walls, crushed their insides, and stretched the connection, their neck snapping with each sound. Sahyeok didn’t care, fulfilling Jung’s desires by dismantling Yoonjo to the bone.

Splatter, splatter—fluids began leaking from Yoonjo’s hole. Squelch, thwack! Wet sounds and mucus sprayed as balls met perineum. True to his word, Yoonjo was flooding front and back. Treating Yoonjo like a sex toy, Sahyeok suddenly pulled out.

Plop—clumped fluids spilled from Yoonjo’s gaping anus, followed by several condoms, rubbed raw inside, pouring out. Standing, Sahyeok grabbed Yoonjo’s hair instead of their throat, yanking them down.

Yoonjo, dragged along, clumsily knelt before Sahyeok’s crotch. The glistening cock smeared across their face. Bulging veins were starkly felt. As precum leaked from the large urethra, thick semen spurted in bursts.

Semen hit Yoonjo’s eyes, nose, and throat. Vision blurred, ears ringing, Yoonjo reflexively opened their mouth. The glans, piercing through, fed them semen in gulps. Yoonjo’s already loose throat didn’t need to stretch further. Swallowing every drop, Sahyeok pulled his long cock from Yoonjo’s throat.

“Hnng…”

Collapsing forward in a spasm, Yoonjo was tossed aside by Sahyeok, who looked down at Jung Changkyung. Jung, startled by the forceful gaze, tore his eyes from the sprawled Yoonjo. Meeting Sahyeok’s steady stare, he smiled faintly and sat back on the table.

“Enjoy the show?”

Ignoring Jung’s dazed, lip-flapping expression, Sahyeok wiped his cock with a wet towel.

“Omegas leak more than betas, but gushing like a dam breaking isn’t common.”

“…What’s that mean?”

“It means this omega isn’t special.”

Looking at the puzzled Jung, Sahyeok grabbed an empty glass, filled it with whiskey, and opened a case Jaewook handed him. Pouring white powder from the finger-sized case into the glass, he swirled it to dissolve before offering it to Jung.

“What makes it special is you, big brother.”

The so-called magic drug that lets betas experience alpha sensations. Half-doubting, Jung, swayed by Sahyeok’s confidence, took the glass.

“No omega could resist without making a mess.”

Whispering low, Sahyeok took a glass from Jaewook, clinked it lightly against Jung’s, and downed it in one go. Provoked by the audacious challenge, Jung glared but emptied his glass. Satisfied, Sahyeok gave a polite nod.

“Come back anytime, Manager Jung.”

Slipping a business card between Jung’s fingers, Sahyeok stood, kicking aside the bothersome omega, Yoonjo, and began dressing. Pants, shirt, tie, jacket.

Dressed in fresh clothes from Jaewook, he looked pristine, save for slightly tousled hair, which somehow suited him perfectly.

“We’ll have plenty of omegas ready.”

As if on cue, the VIP room door opened, and several new omegas flooded in. Stepping back, Sahyeok let them take over, and the once-quiet space buzzed.

Overwhelmed by Sahyeok’s sex show, the crowd barely recovered before the new omegas swarmed, slipping between them with cases of white powder. Joined by the omegas who’d been writhing earlier, the VIP room turned into a brothel.

As new clients began snorting the white powder, Geum Sahyeok slipped out of the den. The moment hands laced with the drug reached for Yoonjo, trembling from the violent sex, the door closed firmly behind Sahyeok.