My Alpha Era Began with Gongjindan Chapter 11

Not even once did Moon Yeonghwa look at Jung Pureum, so engrossed was he in a movie that wasn’t even all that sad.

Even though someone kept stealing glances at his face, going so far as to openly stare, Moon Yeonghwa’s gaze remained fixed solely on the movie screen.

Moon Yeonghwa, who had a pathological fondness for uninteresting melodramatic romances, was crying profusely at scenes that were nothing special. The way he cried so silently was quite a talent in itself.

Jung Pureum habitually pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the tears from Moon Yeonghwa’s eyes and cheeks, which were sobbing even after the sad scenes had passed. As a bonus, he picked up a few popcorn kernels and put them into his mouth, so the salt wouldn’t wash off.

As expected, no matter how much he thought about it, Moon Yeonghwa was not exactly an easy person to like. But since when did matters of the heart ever go as one wished? Even knowing it was hopeless, there was nothing to be done.

A faint scent of sandalwood mingled in the air. It seemed his pheromone control had slipped from crying over a sad movie.

For all his talk about whether others needed proper sex education or not, Moon Yeonghwa himself was clumsy at controlling his pheromones. It was because he had lived carelessly as a latent heat omega, thinking everything would be solved with one dose of herbal medicine.

Every time he saw Moon Yeonghwa proudly proclaiming that a single herbal decoction would solve everything, Jung Pureum’s insides burned with anxiety.

Moon Yeonghwa might be the type to assume a stabbing stance with his needles if alphas picked a fight, but Jung Pureum was constantly on edge, worried that some strange alpha might pop out from anywhere at any time and snatch Moon Yeonghwa away.

To suppress the sandalwood scent, Jung Pureum faintly released his own pheromones.

Moon Yeonghwa seemed to think of Jung Pureum as some greenhorn who couldn’t even control his pheromones, but Jung Pureum had been quite skillfully spreading his pheromones all over Moon Yeonghwa since right after his own presentation. It was a highly deliberate act.

“Maybe it’s because it was so sad, but my body feels hot.”

Moon Yeonghwa said this, rubbing his swollen, tear-soaked eyes with the back of his hand, and casually popped open one button of his shirt.

“….”

At this moment, Jung Pureum was once again consumed by anguish.

The scariest part was that Moon Yeonghwa acted like that without a single thought in his head. It was infuriating because it was so obvious that Jung Pureum was the only one bothered by this situation.

Until the lights came back on after the movie ended, Jung Pureum kept a tight grip on the bottom of the popcorn tub. Becoming an alpha was fine, but the self-control and patience he had honed over the years kept hitting rock bottom.

“Let’s go now. Why is the theater so hot? How high do they have the heater turned up? This is why global warming happens, you know? It’s all the tyranny of big corporations.”

“….”

“Pureum, your face is red too. Come here, let me see if you have a fever.”

It probably wasn’t because of the heater, but because they had been faintly exposed to each other’s pheromones.

Instead of telling him the truth, Jung Pureum lowered his head toward Moon Yeonghwa’s hand, which was blaming the theater’s facilities. As he leaned his face onto the palm, the cool hand pleasantly rubbed against his cheek.

“You’re hot too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s just watch the movie today. If you suddenly overdo things you don’t normally do, you’ll burn out.”

Those words signaling the end of the date felt disappointing. He tried coaxing, asking if they couldn’t at least have dinner together, but Moon Yeonghwa firmly maintained that it was a night consultation day at his clinic.

When would he ever even notice that Jung Pureum liked him?

Even if he were born again, it was obvious Moon Yeonghwa wouldn’t recognize anyone else’s feelings. He was the type of person who, even if you prepared a whole presentation confessing your love, would give you feedback about the font alignment being off.

But at this point, Jung Pureum couldn’t give up on him.

Jung Pureum had his own stubbornness. He was determined to win the other’s heart, no matter what. Whatever happened, he was going to achieve his first love.

“I’ll visit the clinic again tomorrow.”

…If Moon Yeonghwa wouldn’t notice, Jung Pureum would just cling to him until he did.

Now in his 8th year of unrequited love, Jung Pureum was slowly running past obstinacy and obsession, straight toward madness.

If Moon Yeonghwa was the tin woodman who didn’t know what love was, Jung Pureum intended to implant an artificial heart in him, no matter what, and teach him what love meant.

Because hyung is, after all… my man.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Wow, so this is what happens once patents and approvals start getting through.”

After sticking a straw into the herbal medicine that delayed his heat cycle and drinking it down, his mind became clear. As expected, herbal medicine is right. The effects kick in immediately after taking one dose.

Recently, the cycle of his heats had started going haywire again.

The cause was obviously Jung Pureum. Even though Moon Yeonghwa was a latent heat omega, not a dominant one, it was only natural that constantly being around a dominant alpha like Jung Pureum would cause physical abnormalities.

Still, thanks to the skills he had accumulated over the years, he hadn’t experienced any tragic situations like suddenly going into heat on the street, as seen in those omega Cinderella story makjang dramas, but his body periodically ran hot. It was a bad sign for a fire-type Soeumin constitution.

That said, he couldn’t exactly tell Jung Pureum, ‘I get hot when I’m with you, so this won’t work. Let’s have some time apart.’ The best measure he could take was to increase his herbal medicine dosage.

“Director, you’ll ruin your liver at this rate. No matter how good herbal medicine is, taking it that often will cause big problems.”

“I’m fine with decoctions I brew myself.”

“Oh dear.”

He knew it wasn’t fine. But he couldn’t afford to collapse just as the clinic was getting busy.

Even though he fully trusted veteran Kim Miyoung, if the director himself wasn’t present, what would patients think when they visited?

On top of that, Wonhee Oriental Medicine Clinic had recently started a diet herbal medicine promotional event.

Baek Wonhee was a truly petty bastard. Not just petty—downright nasty. The fact that he was even recruiting review testers made Moon Yeonghwa’s blood boil. There were fewer people trying to become alphas than people trying to diet, so he couldn’t run that kind of event.

Exercise could make you lose weight without herbal medicine, but since it was uncertain whether the Gongjindan for becoming an alpha would even work, he couldn’t recklessly hold such events.

So all he could do was push through approvals for other herbal medicines that hadn’t yet received patents. Even so, this was still a huge achievement compared to the early days.

“How’s the preparation for the TV appearance going?”

“That’s why I’ve been going to the dermatologist lately. How do I look to you, Assistant Kim? Haven’t I been getting noticeably more handsome these days?”

“Hmm.”

“…No?”

“You’ve always been pretty, Director. Which dermatologist are you going to? I don’t know about handsome, but compared to before, you just seem a little more….”

“Oh, come on. Why do you keep trailing off? What harm would it do to give me a proper compliment?”

“A little bit of charm, maybe? Like a certain sex appeal is starting to show.”

“…You mean saekki (brat)?”

“Saekki (sex appeal).”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Had Kim Miyoung already reached the age for premature aging? Moon Yeonghwa seriously considered a herbal formula for dry eye syndrome.

But before he could decide to prescribe a tonic for Kim Miyoung, Kim Miyoung struck first.

“What, isn’t having sex appeal a good thing? Celebrities usually have that peach blossom luck.”

“Is it a good thing?”

“Of course. Since you’re going on air, having something is better than nothing. Go out there and promote our clinic like crazy.”

As expected, going to the dermatologist seemed worth it. A regular omega customer who had been coming since the clinic opened had recommended the place, and it seemed the recommendation from someone pretty lived up to its price.

Moon Yeonghwa stood up from his seat with a proud face. Even before his broadcast appearance, the number of patients visiting both in the morning and afternoon had noticeably increased compared to before, when there hadn’t been a single customer.

“By the way, is that alpha young man not coming today?”

Moon Yeonghwa was grinning, lost in dreams of making a fortune through the broadcast appearance and online ads, when Kim Miyoung immediately threw cold water on it.

“He said if he misses any more training, his coach will kill him.”

“Oh dear.”

That was good news for Moon Yeonghwa. He felt sorry for Jung Pureum, who came by every day, but when that kid showed up, he couldn’t get any work done and his body felt worse.

“I hope he doesn’t come for at least another week.”

So that’s what he muttered, about half-jokingly. After all, even if he said that, he had faith that Jung Pureum would come looking for him again within two days.

A quick search on the internet easily turned up stories about the Gongjindan he had created.

Even without running online ads yet, the response was already intense. It turned out everyone secretly wanted to become an alpha, even if they weren’t keen on admitting it.

There were definitely many advantages to being an alpha. Not only did core muscles maintain without a certain level of exercise, but stamina was also far superior to betas. Especially for those pursuing physical education, it was nearly impossible without being an alpha.

Of course, many thought being a beta was much better, since meeting the wrong omega could ruin your life, but nonetheless, quite a few people wanted to live as an alpha at least once in their lives. The fact that you could eat more, exercise less, and still experience less muscle loss was tempting for any modern person.

It was only natural, when you thought about it.

During school years, being part of the majority group was desirable, but by adulthood, when you entered society, that need faded.

In short, people spent a fortune on diet herbal medicines just to get slimmer, so there was absolutely no reason they wouldn’t buy Gongjindan to become an alpha.

Even though sales hadn’t started yet, it was a craze of people wanting to buy the alpha Gongjindan.

Some online posts spouted baseless nonsense claiming the Gongjindan he made was a fraud, but the ignited interest showed no signs of cooling down.

From famous YouTubers to Outstagram influencers, they all contacted his clinic personally. Several beta celebrities also inquired about the possibility of sponsored products.

His heart pounded as if he had drunk more than three cups of coffee a day. If he played his cards right here, he could achieve the long-cherished dream of making his clinic flourish. Revitalizing the clinic with an accidentally created Gongjindan wasn’t luck—it was ultimately skill.

After calmly reviewing the accumulated inquiries and proposals one by one, he selected only those who were truly famous and reliable.

For his part, he still couldn’t be certain of the alpha Gongjindan’s effectiveness. It was true that Jung Pureum had become an alpha after taking the Gongjindan he made, but with only one test subject, the food and drug administration wouldn’t have approved it. It was simply pushed through because it was an unprecedented development.

So he had tried taking it himself, but it had no effect on him. It had no more efficacy for an omega than a tonic. If it could have transformed omega traits, his Gongjindan would have been hailed as a divine elixir.

“Haa….”

Holding his throbbing head from overwork, Moon Yeonghwa rose from his seat.

For some reason, his body felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton, and his head was dizzy. His heart was still pounding. It wasn’t due to the excitement of handling big money, but because he truly felt unwell.

His vision flickered. Dizziness struck, and he staggered a couple of times before collapsing onto the floor with a thud. He thought it might be that damn heat cycle again, but it didn’t have that particular feeling.

Calmly, he called 119. Help me. No matter how great a Korean medicine doctor he was, he couldn’t treat himself in this situation.

Until the ambulance arrived, he lay on the floor staring at the ceiling. This really wouldn’t do. From now on, he’d have to rely not on physical strength, but on mental fortitude.