Mine to Break Chapter 4.4 - Code numbers

“Don’t even think about slacking off; just check on Song Yoonjo’s condition.”

“Look at the way you’re talking, dragging me out in the middle of the night.”

“You didn’t tell the boss properly about the mess you made earlier today, did you? I’ll keep my mouth shut, so just check if there’s anything wrong with Song Yoonjo.”

Director Kim, woken up and summoned, subtly showed his irritation but covered it with a loud, fake cough to smooth over his grumbling. As the manager pointed out, he had shifted all the blame onto Song Yoonjo while conveniently leaving out his own actions.

“Fine, I get it. Get out.”

“Damn it, why the hell should I trust you, Director? You pulled that crap earlier today, and now this guy…!”

“I didn’t use his ass; I barely used his mouth. Why is that my fault? Just a couple of days ago, he came back from somewhere roughed up bad.”

Glancing at Yoonjo, who was sitting on a folding chair against the examination room wall, Director Kim added.

“He went out for a job today too, didn’t he?”

“What, you think we let a debtor sit idle? The amount he makes per assignment…”

Realizing his slip, the manager quickly shut his mouth. Director Kim, who knew his intentions better than anyone, grinned smugly as if he’d caught him. Even on a bad night, Yoonjo’s assignment fee was ten million won. The problem, if there was one, was that Song Yoonjo thought it was only around one million.

“Whatever. Just hurry up and check his ass. Or at least hook him up to an IV or something. I’m telling you, this guy’s condition is off.”

“You want me to make Yoonjo show his ass with you standing there?”

“You’re not in a state to pull your pervert crap today, so just do it.”

“Well, if you say so.”

Shrugging, Director Kim felt a bit disappointed that he couldn’t enjoy it alone, but it wasn’t a total loss. Having Yoonjo expose himself in front of someone else could have its own appeal.

“Yoonjo, go sit over there.”

Pointing to the ultrasound room next to the examination room, Yoonjo moved without a word. The sound of the curtain being drawn and clothes being removed was so practiced it was like he was a trained assistant.

The manager, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, anxiously followed Yoonjo’s movements. His face twisted in disgust when Yoonjo climbed onto the table, spread his legs, and his lower body was fully exposed.

“No wonder he’s out of it.”

The manager shot upright and rushed into the ultrasound room. Pushing past Director Kim, who was clicking his tongue, he stared at Yoonjo’s anus. It was unbelievably wrecked.

“What the hell? Is this really okay? Director, are you seriously saying you only used his mouth?”

“Why are you getting all worked up now? His condition’s been like this for the past six months. I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t certain, but whoever it is, they’re definitely doing more than just screwing him. It’s got to be fisting or something.”

Bullshit. Not certain, my ass. You kept quiet because you enjoyed messing with a fist-damaged hole, you pervert.

“For six months?”

“Thanks to my good care, it’s only this bad. People should be grateful. Of course, Yoonjo’s hole is naturally pretty loose too.”

Loose, my ass. It’s stretched out because he’s been used so much.

“You know what’s really lucky? That Yoonjo manifested as an Omega. It’s like swapping out an old rubber band for a more elastic one. Shame he’s recessive, but Yoonjo’s got plenty of slick.”

“Then why does it look like this?”

“I told you, it’s probably from fisting. Hmm, it’s past midnight, so it was yesterday, I guess. Yeah, yesterday and the day before, who the hell is he servicing?”

“Will it heal?”

“Give it a few days’ rest, and it’ll recover. Making a fuss over a bit of swollen tissue. My taste is for long, vertical tears, though. Our Yoonjo’s still got a ways to go.”

Ugh, you sick freak.

At the mention that it would heal in a few days, the manager, repulsed, turned away from the sight of someone else’s ruined anus and stood at a distance.

“Yoonjo, did you really get fisted?”

“…No.”

“You sure? You do drugs sometimes too, don’t you? Oh, I’m keeping that a secret for you, Yoonjo. You know being a drug offender can screw you for life, right?”

“Yes… Thank you.”

“Did you get fisted in the ass yesterday too? Your hole’s big, but your belly’s tight, so they couldn’t have gone too deep. Here? Around here?”

Instead of examining him, Director Kim toyed with Yoonjo, pressing hard on his lower abdomen and around his navel, only pulling back quickly when the manager was about to explode.

“I told you last time, didn’t I? I’ll give you ointment, so don’t forget to apply it three times a day. Prostate and rectum too. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll give you some vitamins. Take them with the IV.”

“Yes.”

“Director, you’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Director.’”

“Yes, Director. Thank you.”

The manager, watching Yoonjo obediently follow Director Kim’s orders, scowled as hard as he could.

What a bunch of nonsense. Is this guy just good-natured or brain-dead?

Unlike others who might at least pretend to run, Yoonjo hadn’t tried even once in the past five years, which the manager couldn’t comprehend at all.

Must be perfect for the job.

Sneering, the manager pulled a chair next to the bed where Yoonjo lay with an IV needle in his arm and sat down.

“What? I’ll leave once he’s done, so you go rest, Director. Song Yoonjo can’t suck you off today.”

“Come on, who said anything?”

Judging by his swollen lips, his mouth must be a mess too, but Director Kim, who seemed to want a quick go, smacked his lips in disappointment.

“Hey, filth. Lie down and sleep. Damn it, if you mess up an assignment, I’m the one who gets screwed.”

“Yes.”

What a response, damn it.

Watching Song Yoonjo close his eyes like an obedient doll, the manager propped his sneaker-clad feet on the bed and stretched out his legs.

“You’re not leaving?”

“I’m going, I’m going. Call if anything happens.”

“Sure.”

The manager, answering curtly, leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.

Disgusting bastard. If he’d at least try to run once, I could beat him into shape. Damn idiot.

Watching Yoonjo fall asleep with faint wheezing, the manager dozed off, slumping over with a thud. Despite the commotion, Yoonjo slept like the dead and didn’t wake until 7 a.m.

ᢉ𐭩

“Hey, don’t step a foot out of the room, got it?”

The manager, barking the warning, rushed out of the dorm like a scalded dog.

He said not to wash for two days.

Heading instinctively toward the bathroom, Yoonjo glanced at the dining table. Thankfully, it was empty today. Unaware that the table had been set until yesterday, Yoonjo headed to his room but stopped. A paper bag was placed in front of his door.

“…”

Fear gripping him, Yoonjo was too scared to open the bag. He stared at it for a while before opening the door and going inside. The tightly shut door opened again about thirty minutes later. Reaching out to pull the paper bag inside, Yoonjo closed the door again. The room was dim with blackout curtains drawn, but his eyes were accustomed, so it wasn’t hard to see.

“…”

Unable to touch the bag for some time, Yoonjo cautiously pulled it closer. Peering inside, he saw several envelopes first. With sunken eyes, he took them out. There were five. Beneath them were six gifts. Perhaps bought with limited money, the wrapping paper was all the same.

Big brother, happy birthday!

Yoonjo hyung! Happy birthday!

Yoonjo sunbaenim! Happy birthday! Sorry the gift is late. The leader didn’t tell us and kept it to himself! ㅠㅠ

Yoonjo hyung, happy birthday. I hope you like the gift.

Happy birthday, hyungnim. I know you’re busy, but show your face sometime.

Twenty-five years old. Kids who were practically strangers—no, who should have been strangers—were celebrating his birthday, which even he didn’t care about.

Unable to even think about unwrapping the gifts, Yoonjo stared blankly at the letters, then suddenly pulled out his phone. No messages from his parents or twin. His twin was in exam season, and his parents were juggling two or three jobs a day.

Still, for the first couple of years, he’d gotten birthday messages. As they adjusted to reality and got swamped with work, celebrating birthdays naturally fell away. The occasional check-in was a relief. His twin’s sparse contact was oddly reassuring, a sign they were adapting well.

Putting the phone away, Yoonjo’s hand held the letters again. He couldn’t touch the wrapped gifts, maybe never would.

Suddenly, his lips trembled.

Why… are they doing this to me?

Lying on the bed, Yoonjo curled up like a pill bug.

ᢉ𐭩

“Hyung, you asleep?”

“Yeah. Has he been up for three days straight handling schedules?”

“Jealous.”

“But isn’t he insanely cool? Not even debuted, and people everywhere want to see him.”

“What are you saying? It’s only possible because it’s Yoonjo hyung. The moment I saw him, I thought, that’s what a celebrity is.”

“He’s our company’s legendary trainee, isn’t he? They say his singing’s top-tier. His dancing’s supposed to be great too.”

“He must’ve been born to be an idol.”

“How did he end up stuck in this shitty company, not even debuting…”

“Exactly.”

“Guess God isn’t always fair.”

“Shh! You’ll wake hyung. The soundproofing here is awful.”

“Instead of ‘shitty,’ say ‘crazy’ or ‘really.’”

Nachan, whispering with the others in the living room, grinned awkwardly at leader Yujeong’s scolding and switched to “really.”

“We’ve got practice too. Let’s get ready.”

“Yes.”

“Yup.”

The members, answering briskly, left the dorm in their tracksuits.

“Hope hyung opened the gifts. I hope he likes them.”

“Even a gum wrapper would look pretty from the maknae.”

“Why didn’t you write a letter, leader hyung?”

“I wrote one last time.”

It was more of a note than a letter, to be exact.

“Wow, Yujeong hyung, what a traitor!”

“Quiet down, you’ll wake Yoonjo hyung.”

The whispering members quietly slipped out the front door. Their lively chatter lingered in the space for a while. Yoonjo, deeply asleep through it all, was jolted awake by the manager bursting through the door.