Mine to Break Chapter 4.1 - Code numbers

“Hey, you okay? Are you coming to?”

Opening his eyes on a plush sofa, something flickered in Yoonjo’s field of vision. An omega, freshly out of the shower, withdrew the hand he had been waving in front of Yoonjo’s face.

“I was about to call a doctor, but looks like you’re fine.”

“…Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. The bathroom’s over there… Whoa, whoa?”

The omega, who helped steady a wobbling Yoonjo trying to stand on his own, clicked his tongue with a “tch.”

“It’d be weird if you were fine after going through that.”

The omega, after sitting Yoonjo back on the sofa, grabbed a bottle of water neatly placed on the table.

“Do you remember anything?”

Assuming it was the usual situation, the omega didn’t ask twice about calling a doctor and instead uncapped the water bottle, handing it to Yoonjo.

“Thank you.”

“Huh? You’re awake?”

Clunk—Another omega appeared, opening the bathroom door, followed by five or six others peeking out curiously. The omega in front took the empty spot next to Yoonjo, wrapping a towel around his wet hair.

“You know Geum Sahyeok?”

“Sorry…?”

“That guy you were with, the one who had the old geezers eating out of his hand.”

“…….”

“Well, if he knew you, he wouldn’t have treated you like that. Seeing you get used and tossed aside like garbage made my blood boil.”

“That kind of treatment isn’t new, is it? Stop acting all sentimental.”

“Man, I never would’ve dreamed of seeing Geum Sahyeok there. If I’d known he was coming, I would’ve put in a bit more effort.”

“What difference would effort make? I was just glad I didn’t get caught up in that mess.”

“Oh.”

The omegas, chattering among themselves, finally noticed Yoonjo and lowered their voices. But that didn’t last long. Being dragged to a playground for betas, especially to a gathering of the dirtiest players, wasn’t exactly a joyful occasion, and most omegas were there reluctantly, eating mustard through tears.

It was supposed to start filthy and end sordidly, as usual, but an unexpected event had occurred. Events like that were usually enough to make one forget, even briefly, the shittiness of the day. Especially when the subject was Geum Sahyeok, a name notorious in the industry, even among traits.

“But is Geum Sahyeok really an alpha?”

“Dude, that guy’s got the face of an alpha. You can tell he’s dominant just by looking at him. A trait test would be a waste of time.”

“Fuck, he’s a ruthless bastard, isn’t he? Not a single drop of pheromone spilled while he was wrecking that kid?”

“They say dominant alphas have insane pheromone control.”

“I thought that was just a myth. How many times in your life do you even meet a dominant alpha?”

“So, that drug was real?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. I’ve always been a heavy bleeder.”

“Maybe it was mixed with something else, so it’s hard to tell.”

“It felt like there was more fluid than usual…”

The omegas, each adding their piece, turned to Yoonjo as if on cue.

“How was it?”

“…Sorry?”

Someone snapped at Yoonjo, who reacted late to the attention and questions directed at him.

“Hey, drop the formalities. You seem about our age.”

“No, he’s twenty-five.”

The omega who handed him the water bottle spoke, and everyone was surprised. The one who had been tapping Yoonjo’s cheeks, worried he might pass out again, shrugged lightly as if it wasn’t intentional, sharing the information he’d learned in the process.

“He’s young?”

“What’s a kid like this doing in a place like this?”

“Hey, did you even know what this place was when you crawled in here?”

“Your pimp’s got no conscience.”

“Do you even know the name of this club? Do you know exactly what this place does?”

“Look at his face. Does he look like he knows?”

“Hey, don’t come back here. If they try to send you again, run. You’re better off dying on the run.”

“Why are you scaring him like that? From what I saw, he’s no ordinary slut.”

“Yeah, exactly. Twenty-five? He’s old enough to know what’s what. No way he came here without knowing it’s a place where people die quietly. If he really didn’t know, he’s just got a head for decoration.”

Voices of concern mixed with sarcasm filled the air. The common thread was the warning they carried.

“Um… Can I go wash up…?”

“Yeah, go clean yourself. You reek.”

At someone’s blunt remark, there were snickers and more tongue-clicking. Yoonjo set down the water bottle he’d been clutching with both hands and stood up. Bracing his legs to avoid stumbling like before, a white clump gushed out from his lower hole.

“It’s fine. There’s someone to clean it up.”

As Yoonjo hurriedly bent to clean the semen he’d spilled, someone stopped him. It was the omega who’d given him the water bottle. Yoonjo, half-bowed in an awkward stance, gave a quick nod and shuffled toward the bathroom, dragging one foot.

The group, glancing at Yoonjo, resumed their chatter while drying their hair or getting dressed. They must have confirmed Yoonjo had no real connection to Geum Sahyeok, as his name no longer came up in their conversation.

Closing the opaque glass door, Yoonjo leaned against it for a moment. His body felt like it had been beaten all over. As the drug’s effects wore off and he regained his senses, the pain began to creep in. A foreign sensation churned in his gut, as if it had been stirred with a club. Standing silently until the dizziness subsided, Yoonjo slowly moved forward.

He turned on lukewarm water at the lowest pressure possible. In this state, even mild stimuli felt intense. Still, he couldn’t avoid washing, so he relied on practiced techniques to minimize the pain as it pulsed through his body.

Geum Sahyeok.

That man was Geum Sahyeok.

The liquor poured down his throat with every compliment from the so-called “elders” as he serviced them had been spiked with drugs. Naturally, his vision blurred. When someone yanked his head back, when they slapped his hips and probed inside with their fingers, and when a hard cock finally rammed into him like a stake, his consciousness flickered in and out. Clear, then cloudy. He thought he’d seen wrong. He thought it was a mistake.

But that man was the boss.

“Fuck, he’s a ruthless bastard, isn’t he? Not a single drop of pheromone spilled while he was wrecking that kid?”

Realizing anew that he hadn’t aroused that man in the slightest, Yoonjo’s face darkened.

Geum Sahyeok didn’t use Song Yoonjo because he had any attachment to him. No one grows fond of a disposable item. There was no hope of expecting the so-called “body affection.”

He was simply using Song Yoonjo because he was a sturdy beta, a product that suited his preferences. But Yoonjo was no longer a beta. The lower hole, his stock-in-trade, was starting to show signs of wear. Above all, there were more than enough products to replace Song Yoonjo.

“Well, if he knew you, he wouldn’t have treated you like that. Seeing you get used and tossed aside like garbage made my blood boil.”

Yoonjo repeated and chewed over the fact that he was a disposable item to Geum Sahyeok, one that could be discarded at any time. He understood and accepted that his plea to be wanted again would go unanswered.

ᢉ𐭩

Screech—The manager, slamming the brakes to park the car, got out first.

“Get up.”

Slamming the driver’s door shut, he spat out the words irritably. Yoonjo didn’t react. The manager, yelling about why he was dawdling, would find fault no matter what Yoonjo did. Standing still until the manager, pulling out a cigarette pack, disappeared behind the building, Yoonjo entered the office.

The basement was the dorm, the first floor housed a café and a snack bar, the second floor held Lucid Entertainment’s office and practice rooms, and the other floors were occupied by various private offices.

Turning left at the end of the second-floor corridor, the president’s office came into view. At the end of the roughly three-meter hallway was the president’s office, with a reception desk beside it. Yoonjo, pacing in front of the empty desk, paused before sitting in the waiting area.

“…….”

The president’s office door was ajar about ten centimeters. Familiar voices leaked through the gap—Lucid Entertainment’s president, Park Changseong, and Lawyer Choi. The building’s shoddy soundproofing, with makeshift walls constantly built and torn down, meant Yoonjo couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“What’s your take, Lawyer Choi?”

“Yujeong, that kid’s too headstrong—wouldn’t it be better to kick him out?”

“We paid a pittance to bring him in, so we should at least pretend to train him.”

“When do the leftover kids turn adult?”

“Two next year, one the year after, and the youngest the year after that.”

“At least a year—will he last that long?”

“Yoonjo? That kid’s tougher than you’d expect.”

“His endurance is something else.”

Park Changseong, chuckling in agreement, added.

“But the kids are a problem.”

“Why? Did Director Kim say something?”

“No signs of manifestation.”

“Who knows? Who could’ve predicted Song Yoonjo would manifest?”

“Tch—Does rolling them around cause manifestation? That’s not how it works. Of all the kids I’ve worked, he’s the only one who manifested as an adult.”

“Who cares? Even the academics don’t know.”

“So I thought about it deeply.”

A scoff from Lawyer Choi followed the claim of deep thought. Park Changseong, bristling but eager to make his point, continued.

“Don’t you think it’s because he was paired with a dominant alpha?”

“Geum Sahyeok?”

“Yeah, that bastard. The thug who acts all high and mighty. Exactly six months after being with that guy, Yoonjo got pregnant and manifested, didn’t he?”

“Your deep thinking. Leave the probability games to you. Anyway, doesn’t Geum Sahyeok only go for beta boys?”

“Well, yeah. They say he didn’t even flinch. Even when the kid he got pregnant miscarried. No consolation money—just turned the kid into a rag and sent him off.”

“Song Yoonjo’s been a rag for more than a day or two.”

“Fuck, you don’t know how freaked out I was. When we passed him off as a virgin, he came back half-dead, right? You’d think that’d settle the score. But that bastard beat me up so bad I ended up in the hospital. This time, I was scared shitless it’d happen again, but he only wrecked the kid.”

“He probably thought he was an alpha too, tasted good? So he didn’t go after you?”

“No idea, fuck. How am I supposed to know what’s in that thug’s head?”

“This time, push two kids in as soon as they’re of age. From how he handled Song Yoonjo, he’d probably eat them up too.”

“Lawyer Choi. You know why I only sent Song Yoonjo in at twenty-five? That bastard Geum Sahyeok doesn’t touch young ones. Freshly twenty? He won’t even look at them, says they still smell of milk. What was it? Don’t even bring him kids whose bones haven’t fully formed. Fucking pervert, I tell you.”

“Six years, then.”

“What?”

“The B-team kids. If you’re planning to send them to Geum Sahyeok, you’ll need to age them at least six years.”

“Fuck.”

“Will Song Yoonjo hold out that long?”

“What’s he gonna do if he doesn’t?”

“I mean, Song Yoonjo will try to hold out. But will his body last? If Geum Sahyeok finds another beta, will he still want Song Yoonjo?”

“So what? Spit it out, don’t beat around the bush, you bastard. No wonder they say you make a living with your tongue—fucking long-winded.”

“Get him away from Geum Sahyeok and give him exclusively to someone else.”

“Are you insane? Do you know how much that bastard pays?”

“Find someone who pays more.”

“Someone who pays more?”

Park Changseong, about to lose his temper, paused.

“No way, Ha Sang…”

Ding—The elevator chime snapped Yoonjo out of his focus. He quietly stepped back. Absorbed in the voices leaking from the office, he hadn’t noticed the empty reception desk, thankfully.

Step, step—The familiar sound of the manager’s footsteps approached. Before they got closer, Yoonjo sat down in the waiting area. Cold sweat broke out. Wiping his clammy cheeks, Yoonjo steadied his churning stomach, closing and opening his eyes tightly.

“The B-team kids. If you’re sending them to Geum Sahyeok, you’ll need to age them at least six years.”

The kids were products too. Not singers, but lobbying products.

Like Song Yoonjo.

“What are you doing, not going in?”

The manager’s irritated voice came as he rounded the corner.

“Ha, fuck. What a piece of work. Can’t you go in on your own? Are you a kid? Can’t even open a door at twenty-five?”

Yoonjo knew that entering alone would earn him a scolding for acting on his own, so he just bowed his head, muttering an apology.

“Ugh—I should watch my mouth.”

The manager, already pissed from waiting in the hotel parking lot like a loyal dog for nearly twenty-four hours, was more violent than usual today.

Whether the door was fully closed or not, the manager gave a half-hearted knock and flung it open. Park Changseong and Lawyer Choi, who had already stopped talking due to the commotion outside, turned toward the door with calm faces.

“Here—delivered Song Yoonjo nice and proper.”

The sarcastic manager grabbed Yoonjo’s arm, shoved him inside, and closed the door. Facing the stares of Park Changseong and Lawyer Choi, now alone with them, Yoonjo held his breath for a moment, enduring their gazes.

ᢉ𐭩

“Don’t make a scene and just stay put.”

The manager, suddenly smacking Yoonjo on the back of the head, pushed him into the dorm and left. Judging by his dolled-up appearance, he was probably off to spend personal time under the guise of work. Whether he was Park Changseong’s nephew or a brother-like figure, the manager was as much a subject of company gossip as Yoonjo.

Pushed into the empty dorm by force, Yoonjo scanned the space and stopped at the dining table. As expected, it was covered with a white lace tablecloth.

For a moment, Yoonjo stood blankly, then stepped back, only to kick off his shoes and approach. Staring at the tablecloth-covered table like an unsolvable puzzle, he moved closer. Lifting the cloth revealed a set table. The side dishes were similar to last time. The note beside it was the same, except for the different member’s name. Yoonjo’s eyes, frozen by the sensation of a boulder crushing his chest, read the clear handwriting.

Hyung! Yoonjo!

I made the egg soup today!

Eat well!

– From Nachan, the second oldest –

I miss you, Hyung… ;ㅁ;

Why is he acting like this?

How well does he even know me?

“Well… because the boss told me to.”

That’s about the extent of it.

Swallowing a sigh that threatened to burst out, Yoonjo stood still for a long time.

ᢉ𐭩

“First time?”

The man, unfastening the watch on his left wrist, asked as he undid his cuff buttons. His fingers, with bones protruding with every movement, were thick, and the veins on the back of his hand stood out in a pleasingly rugged way.

A man who was the CEO of some financial company.

A dominant alpha.

A man who, in reality, was an active gangster.

In front of that man, Yoonjo instinctively held his breath. He was dangerous. Why did the boss lie to someone like him? Anyone could see Yoonjo wasn’t new.

Step, step—The carpet on the floor absorbed the man’s footsteps. Lowering his gaze, Yoonjo saw the man’s polished shoes. The moment the spotless shoe tip fully entered his view, whack—Yoonjo was struck on the temple and collapsed to the floor.

The man, who had slapped him out of nowhere, didn’t tell Yoonjo to get up. Gasping from the shock that blackened his vision, Yoonjo was flipped over by the man’s foot. The plush carpet met Yoonjo’s half-sprawled back. Blinking slowly through hazy eyes, Yoonjo gasped. The man’s shoe was pressing on his nipple.

“A virgin?”

The low voice slithered into Yoonjo’s numb ears, dripping with mockery that even a passing dog would laugh at. Entering the hotel room, Yoonjo was stripped naked at the man’s single command. The man’s sharp eyes slowly traced Yoonjo’s pale face and slender body.

Barely regaining his senses, Yoonjo froze at the sensation of a blade grazing his skin. He instinctively realized the man knew exactly what they were trying to pull.

Park Changseong had put effort into dressing Yoonjo up as if he were new. For three months, he halted the usual thrice-weekly gigs, waiting for Yoonjo’s body to “clean up.” Thanks to Park Changseong’s efforts, Yoonjo, who had been marred daily, was free of marks for the first time in five years. But both Park Changseong and Yoonjo had overlooked something.

Nipples too long and thick to be mere vestigial organs. Yoonjo hadn’t even considered it until the man’s shoe crushed them. Originally, his nipples were small for a man’s.

That insignificant flesh had grown little by little through his work. Yoonjo hadn’t noticed the slow, gradual changes in his body. If his nipples were like this, there was no need to mention the lower hole that swallowed cocks.

The man, observing Yoonjo’s reaction, smirked and bent one knee. A massive shadow engulfed Yoonjo. It felt like being crushed under a collapsing wall, his breath catching. The hand gripping his throat made it impossible to breathe.

The man struck Yoonjo mercilessly. After two hits, his nose bled; by the third, his mind went hazy. At some point, Yoonjo burst into tears.

Geum Sahyeok. His palm struck Yoonjo’s face, his sleek shoe kicked his chest and stomach, and his bony joints crushed him. Like a pig dragged to the slaughterhouse, Yoonjo was beaten.

There was no room for the humiliation a human should feel. Only pure terror and unbearable pain from the relentless violence made Yoonjo wail like an animal.

“Ugh… uh…”

Groaning in agony, Yoonjo’s eyes shot open.

“Huff, huff.”

His rapid breaths scanned the surroundings. It was the dorm room. Thanks to the blackout curtains, the dim room echoed only with Yoonjo’s irregular breathing.

A dream.

Realizing it was a dream, Yoonjo curled up, trembling.

Why this dream?

It had been a while since he’d had it. No, it was less a dream and more a memory, but exaggerated with overwhelming fear and pain. Whenever he had such dreams, Yoonjo would feel ill for a while. After sweating and suffering for a couple of hours, he’d gradually recover. But this time, it didn’t pass so easily.