Mine to Break Chapter 6.1 - Best effort

Four days had passed. Waking up alone in the hotel bed, Yoonjo checked the calendar multiple times. Exactly four days had passed since the day he remembered.

“…….”

He hadn’t lost all memory of the past four days. Some memories were blurry or fragmented, but he recalled the events at the club and spending the rut with Geum Sahyeok. For all that, his body felt light. He was hungry, but it wasn’t unbearable.

Taking his eyes off the calendar, Yoonjo belatedly examined his body. It was, as usual, a mess. Still, he vaguely figured it was better since he remembered being treated for his wounds.

It felt like he’d had a dream, but he couldn’t recall it clearly. He doubted he’d been dreaming for all four days, yet the déjà vu of being in a dream made returning to reality take time. That’s why his memories were so jumbled.

How did he get from the club to here? That part was just a memory of Ha Sangmin disappearing and Geum Sahyeok picking him up. They said nothing from the club ever leaked out. Someone had said people died there without a trace. Right, it was one of the Omegas who’d been there when he first went to the club.

Lost in thought, Yoonjo sat blankly until his eyes snapped open.

He needed to call the manager.

If they didn’t know he’d been with Geum Sahyeok, four days was more than enough time for them to misunderstand.

What if they already called my family? The members…

Scrambling off the bed, Yoonjo tumbled to the floor with a thud.

“Ah…”

It hurt, especially since he’d hit his forehead. More than that, he was shocked that his legs gave out.

This… this never happened before…

“They said you were sturdy.”

Geum Sahyeok’s voice suddenly came to mind.

Didn’t he confirm that back then? So why again…

Wondering why Sahyeok had gone through the rut with him, Yoonjo snapped back to reality and headed for the phone. It was on the nightstand. Crawling almost, Yoonjo’s groin was soaked with semen gushing out. Until now, neither Geum Sahyeok nor anyone else had ever cleaned him up afterward. But this much semen was a first, and though inwardly flustered, Yoonjo grabbed the phone from the nightstand. His trembling fingers dialed the number.

010…

The manager’s number, the first he’d memorized after signing the contract, connected, and the dial tone cut off as if the manager had been waiting.

“Where the hell are you, you bastard!”

Startled by the immediate shouting, Yoonjo’s lips parted, and at the second demand—“Where are you, Song Yoonjo!”—he managed to speak.

“I’m at… a hotel…”

“Hotel? You damn filthy whore, you really got another pocket to line? Disappearing for four days and you’re at a hotel!”

“It’s not…”

“Shut up with your bullshit and get your ass here now.”

“Manager, I didn’t disappear. I was…”

“You bastard! You think I care about your disappearing act right now? Yujeong got called to the club!”

“…….”

“Hey, hey! Song Yoonjo! Are you listening?”

“What… what do you mean?”

“Because you went AWOL, President Park got pissed and sent Yujeong instead! Damn it, your life’s a mess, and you’re trying to ruin a kid who’s working his ass off to live better? Get here now! No, wait! I’ll call a taxi, so go straight to the club! I’m heading out now too, so if you rabbit, you’re dead!”

The manager, screaming furiously at Yoonjo, gave him the taxi number and hung up unilaterally.

“Uh…”

Because I was rolling around with another client for four days without permission. While I was sitting here counting days in a daze.

Dropping the receiver as if throwing it, Yoonjo moved quickly. Or he wanted to, but his current physical state wouldn’t allow it. Cold sweat soon dripped down. That wasn’t the only problem. He had no clothes to wear.

Hoping against hope, he opened the wardrobe, but all that hung there were a few robes. Without time to think, Yoonjo threw on a robe and left the room. No one stopped him. That was expected. No one had ever stopped Yoonjo from leaving after finishing a job either.

Eyes turned to Yoonjo as he jumped out of the elevator in just a robe. Dragging his legs, he crossed the lobby. The taxi the manager called was already waiting. As Yoonjo climbed into the back seat, the driver greeted him politely and started driving slowly.

“Driver… please hurry.”

The driver acknowledged Yoonjo’s request but drove at the legal speed through the night. As time passed, the color drained from Yoonjo’s face.

ᢉ𐭩

Finishing the call, the manager turned to the side with a calm expression.

“Done?”

“Yeah, good acting, my dear nephew.”

“Express your appreciation with an allowance.”

“Damn kid, you’re too money-hungry.”

“Blood runs true, doesn’t it?”

Park Changseong, tossing his entire wallet to the manager who didn’t back down, looked at Attorney Choi.

“Will this work?”

“Taking down gangsters is a prosecutor’s job, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know to call that Prosecutor Jung?”

“From what I heard, he’s used Yoonjo once. If it’s a client we don’t know about, it’s gotta be the club, right?”

“Ha! A prosecutor hanging around an illegal place like that.”

“Thanks to that, we’re off the hook.”

The club operated 100 percent on an outcall basis, with neither pimps nor escorts knowing the clients. What happened inside was strictly confidential, so escorts were supposed to keep quiet afterward. But in reality, they’d talk to their pimps, and rumors would spread like ghosts underwater.

Yet Yoonjo never opened his mouth. Drunk on drugs or alcohol, he’d mumble that he didn’t remember, but he never brought back information himself. No matter how much they pressed or cajoled, Yoonjo never spoke.

“Damn it, Geum Sahyeok showed up at a VIP escort gig?”

“He even crashed Ha Sangmin’s birthday and made a huge mess.”

When both turned to look at him, the manager nodded absently—“Yeah, yeah”—and left the president’s office. A minute or two after he left, Park Changseong, seated at the head, spoke.

“Damn it, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean? We got played.”

“Geum Sahyeok stole Song Yoonjo? Why? He didn’t even glance at him when we pushed him, so why now?”

“Omega.”

“Damn bastard.”

“He’s a Dominant Alpha, isn’t he? Got a taste of Omega and lost his mind.”

It was Jung Chankyung who called Park Changseong yesterday afternoon, apparently figuring out Yoonjo’s identity through a background check.

“Did you know Geum Sahyeok took Song Yoonjo after getting rid of Ha Sangmin?”

That’s exactly what he said.

“Got rid of, meaning…”

Park Changseong, trailing off and making a throat-slitting gesture, got a scoff from Attorney Choi, who clicked his tongue.

“Are gangsters these days real gangsters? All soft. Geum Sahyeok’s all rumors and no real knife work, I bet. You think a guy like him would kill someone just to steal a whore? Stop watching movies, President Park.”

“I hope that’s not it. Damn it, that bastard Song Yoonjo. He’s definitely the one who smuggled out the B-team kids. Acting all innocent, nodding like he understood, then stabbing us in the back.”

The day after Yoonjo cleared out his room, the remaining members quietly left the dorm too. They’d signed trainee contracts, but without parental consent, the forged documents had no legal weight, leaving no grounds to drag them back.

“Should’ve at least locked Yujeong down with a contract.”

“President Park, you still can’t read people? I warned you Yujeong would cause trouble and to kick him out fast. See, what did those underage kids believe in to clear out overnight? They fell for that leader kid’s persuasion and bolted.”

“That damn Song Yoonjo, just wait till I get him.”

“Let’s wait till Prosecutor Jung gets tired of him. Thanks to Ha Sangmin, we got a billion, and with Jung’s backing, it’s a two-for-one deal, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you know anything? You’re a lawyer, you must’ve heard something about what kind of guy Jung is.”

“Lawbook-wielding bastard. What’s there to ask? Just look at him demanding young boys as playthings. Doesn’t that tell you his size?”

“No, I mean, should we side with Geum Sahyeok or Prosecutor Jung?”

Attorney Choi, calmly watching the anxious Park Changseong, gave a sly smile.

“It’s the rule of law in South Korea, President Park.”

“So Jung, right? Sending Yoonjo there was the right move?”

“No matter how big a gangster is, they can’t mess with a prosecutor. Our Prosecutor Jung can even make up crimes that don’t exist.”

Reassured by Choi’s firm answer, Park Changseong slumped on the sofa, then sat up abruptly.

“Damn that Song Yoonjo bastard.”

Cursing Yoonjo every chance he got, blaming him for the mess, Park Changseong sat as Attorney Choi sipped coffee leisurely.

Prosecutor Jung must’ve demanded Song Yoonjo because he thought he could outdo Geum Sahyeok. A Beta like Jung was more likely to use and discard Yoonjo than a Dominant Alpha obsessed with an Omega.

Rumors about Jung’s eccentricities were plentiful. He allegedly targeted young boys and used them until they broke. That kind of thing. If Jung used and discarded Yoonjo, he’d be scarred, but that was welcome. Then, Park Changseong could name a price, thinking what a sucker, and sell Yoonjo off cheap.

Attorney Choi had wanted to keep Song Yoonjo around for a long time. In the way he desired.

ᢉ𐭩

Jung Chankyung was sitting in the same room, in the same spot. It was the same spot Ha Sangmin had occupied. Entering the room soaked in cold sweat, Yoonjo was startled by the empty space, his heart sinking at Yujeong’s absence, and it froze when he saw Jung Chankyung smiling brightly at him.

ᢉ𐭩

Dressed sharply in a suit, Sahyeok looked around the empty room with a dumbfounded expression.

“So, where is he now?”

“Jung Chankyung is in that club room.”

“Song Yoonjo, you’re quite popular.”

“Should I prepare the car?”

“No. You stay and finish the cleanup.”

“Yes, sir.”

From Assemblyman Kim to Ha Sangmin. The mess made in one day was quickly cleaned, but there was still aftermath to handle. Spending three days in a rut left him short on time. Visiting bereaved families, destroying evidence, arranging alibis. Above all, Assemblyman Kim had useful documents, and Ha Sangmin had money to siphon. Because of that, just one day. He was gone for just one day, and Song Yoonjo had vanished.

This isn’t hide-and-seek.

Assuming Song Yoonjo would wait obediently until he returned, Sahyeok felt blindsided, clicked his tongue, and grabbed the steering wheel.

ᢉ𐭩

Yoonjo sat beside Jung Chankyung at his gesture.

“Closer.”

At the commanding tone, Yoonjo scooted his hips closer. Their thighs pressed tightly together.

“Your body’s a wreck.”

The robe’s gap widened as he moved, exposing Yoonjo’s skin. Jung Chankyung’s words, staring intently, dripped with clear contempt.

“Take off the robe.”

Yoonjo obediently removed the robe, which wasn’t functioning as clothing anyway.

“Spread your legs.”

The pink cock, marked with cigarette burns, was exposed, and semen pooled beneath his hips, wetting the sofa.

“Geum Sahyeok’s cock must be something else.”

“…….”

An unexpected name came from Jung Chankyung’s mouth, but Yoonjo didn’t lift his gaze from the floor. This was the place. The table where Geum Sahyeok had held him for a porno show and Ha Sangmin had tortured him was right in front.

“You haven’t learned how to pour drinks, I see.”

Despite the sudden rebuke, Yoonjo couldn’t easily raise his eyes but belatedly reached out.

“Forget it. I don’t let dirty hands touch my drinks.”

Yoonjo’s fingers flinched at the harsh words. Clenching his trembling hand, he lowered his barely raised gaze. The sound of Jung Chankyung pouring his own drink followed.

The claim that Yujeong was called was the manager’s lie. Why… why lie like that? I would’ve done what they asked anyway. Did they really think I ran away? So they used Yujeong as leverage…

If Yoonjo’s guess was right, they’d used the perfect method. His frozen heart thawed slightly, and only after confirming multiple times that Yujeong wasn’t in the room did he feel relief. They weren’t even close. Yet he’d rushed here frantically at the thought of Yujeong being called in his place. Relief outweighed disappointment at the lie. There was no reason to be disappointed. Lie or truth, Jung Chankyung had called for Yoonjo. Even if Yujeong had been summoned first, the premise that Yoonjo had to serve Jung wouldn’t change. One suffering was better than two.

“Ah…!”

Yoonjo’s head jerked back as his hair was grabbed. Jung Chankyung, his face contorted, tightened his grip. It felt like his neck would snap.

“Are your ears clogged? Or do you find my words funny?”

“…No…”

“Worse than a rag.”

Jung Chankyung had said something, and Yoonjo must’ve missed it. Planning to stay quiet until Jung’s anger subsided, Yoonjo’s body shook as Jung threw his hair aside.

“Take it.”

“…Thank you.”

Yoonjo caught the words he’d missed this time. He took the glass Jung offered with both hands. It was empty.

“Scrape it in.”

“…Oh.”

Thankfully, Yoonjo understood before Jung got angrier. Jung wasn’t going to pour him a drink. Unless it was for humiliation, no client would pour a drink for a mere whore.

Yoonjo slid his hips to the edge of the sofa. He still felt foreign sensations, and semen leaked from the loosened folds of his anus. He held the glass under the hole and tensed his lower abdomen. The slack folds let the contents spill freely. When the glass was half-filled with semen, Jung Chankyung tapped Yoonjo’s cheek with the back of his hand. It meant stop.

Yoonjo, holding the glass half-filled with murky fluid, slid his hips back. His left thigh remained pressed against Jung’s right thigh.

“Drink.”

Jung Chankyung filled the half-empty glass with liquor. Had he washed at the hotel? Yoonjo didn’t think so. He remembered swallowing ten Alphas’ cocks at this room’s table, filled with semen until his stomach bulged. Then Geum Sahyeok took him to the hotel. Without memory of washing, he’d gone straight into the rut with Sahyeok. Because of the rut. Sahyeok had reluctantly used Yoonjo’s filthy hole.

Semen of unknown origin mixed with expensive whiskey. Jung Chankyung, kindly stirring the glass with chopsticks, curled one side of his mouth.

“Can’t drink it?”

Yoonjo shook his head. If he didn’t drink, Jung would surely demand something worse. Maybe even if he did. Either way, Yoonjo now knew betting on probabilities was foolish.

Yoonjo’s lips touched the hard edge of the glass. A sour smell, like grease, stung his nose. He slowly tilted the glass. Something wet touched his mouth.

“You’re as mannerless as ever. No matter how much you polish, you can’t hide your roots, as the saying goes.”

Sahyeok, snatching the glass from Yoonjo’s hand, tilted his head and looked down at Jung Chankyung.

“If this little brother has offended again, let this make up for it.”

Smiling lightly, Sahyeok downed the contents of the glass in one gulp. Then thud—the empty glass flew and shattered against the wall.

“Is now really the time to be lounging around?”

“What do you know?”

Answering a question with a question, Sahyeok unbuttoned his jacket.

“My team’s got free time since a suspect suddenly vanished.”

“Might be a good time for a long rest.”

He handed the jacket to Yoonjo. Yoonjo, staring blankly at Geum Sahyeok, didn’t even notice the jacket being offered. He hadn’t heard the door open or Sahyeok’s footsteps crossing the large room.

What’s wrong with my ears? Or my head? Why is this man here? It felt like he’d come for me. Like he cared about me. …Another dream?

“They think you’re Yongwon’s errand boy.”

“This little brother’s hometown is Seoul, big brother.”

Replying as if disappointed, Sahyeok personally put the jacket on Yoonjo. He slid it over Yoonjo’s thin, pale arms, buttoned it up, and only then stepped back, satisfied.

“How about digging up all of Yongwon Memorial Park?”

“If digging’s your hobby.”

“Geum Sahyeok, you murderous bastard. Don’t you know I’ve got you by the leash?”

Unable to hold back, Jung Chankyung slammed the table and raised his voice. Sahyeok, watching Yoonjo flinch, clicked his tongue.

“Prosecutor Jung. Grab a leash carelessly, and you might get bitten.”

“You bastard, are you threatening me?”

“Not a threat, advice. You vermin.”

Jung Chankyung, facing Sahyeok’s now humorless face, could only move his lips at the sudden barrage of insults.

“I’m taking what’s mine. Prosecutor Jung, just drink quietly and go. I won’t charge you for the drinks.”

“Hey, Geum Sahyeok! You think I can’t sell you out here!”

As Sahyeok reached for Yoonjo, who was still staring up at him, he turned to Jung Chankyung. Taking the reaction as a sign he’d hit a nerve, Jung shouted, red-faced.

“Just dig into this room… ugh—!”

Thud—Sahyeok’s fist, as big as Yoonjo’s face, smashed into Jung Chankyung’s. Pulling something from his pocket—a USB in a black sapphire case—Sahyeok grabbed Jung’s hair, shoved it into his gaping mouth, and raised his fist. Thud—thud—thud—! Teeth broke, the tongue was cut, and Jung’s face was half-disfigured as Sahyeok roughly gripped his hair and tilted his head slightly.

“Is it so hard to shut up and live like you’re dead? No lineage, you bastard dog? Damn it.”

Cursing more crudely than any gangster, Sahyeok threw Jung Chankyung to the floor like crushing vermin. Jung, crumpled on the ground, was out of Yoonjo’s sight, blocked by Sahyeok’s bulk. No, Yoonjo had been staring only at Sahyeok. Meeting his eyes deliberately, Sahyeok clicked his tongue.

“Song Yoonjo. You’re more trouble than I thought.”