My Alpha Era Began with Gongjindan Chapter 12

For nearly three days, Jung Pureum had not shown so much as the tip of his nose. Who knew where he had been dragged off to by his coach. His messenger would flood with messages at certain times, presumably during breaks, but calls were cut off within thirty seconds.

Again, this was fortunate for Moon Yeonghwa. Whether Jung Pureum whined through messages or not, pheromones couldn’t be felt through phone contacts. With no regular physical stimulation from pheromones, his health had returned to good condition.

After being taken to the emergency room that day, the Western doctor who examined him said with a serious face that he needed to stop taking the herbal medicine that delayed his heat cycle.

In front of the doctor, Moon Yeonghwa nodded calmly like a well-behaved lamb, but inside he thought, ‘Hmph, what a joke! Me, addicted to heat-delaying herbal medicine?’

The truth was, he couldn’t live without that medicine. How many heat cycles had he postponed by now, and now they were telling him to return to a normal cycle? That was as good as telling him to die.

He had been warned twice that if he was periodically exposed to alpha pheromones, all the postponed heat cycles could hit him at once, but there was nothing to be done.

The doctor’s prescription not to overexert himself was practically impossible for a modern person. Without overexertion, he couldn’t make a living. And to make a living, as an omega, he had to avoid heat cycles.

It was only natural. If he were employed by an organization and could take time off during those periods, that would be one thing, but he was a self-employed clinic owner. At this rate, they might as well exempt him from business taxes.

Anyway, whether his physical condition was deteriorating or not, the broadcast filming date approached quickly.

As expected, there was no time to be sick. Such was the busy and harsh modern society. How did it make sense that taking even one day off meant falling into the negative? Capitalism was too harsh.

“Are you all set?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, I had no idea the person who developed that Gongjindan was this young. This is going to create quite a buzz when it airs. Are you a beta?”

“Haha, no.”

“Then, an alpha?”

“No, I’m an omega.”

Before filming started, the broadcast PD approached Moon Yeonghwa with false familiarity.

This PD, who supposedly held several major shows in his hands, had a somewhat unpleasant edge to him, contrary to his public reputation.

Since most of the broadcast staff were betas and this PD was also a beta, Moon Yeonghwa had chosen this as the first program to appear on, thinking it would be safe. But as soon as he heard Moon Yeonghwa was an omega, the PD made a peculiar expression.

And Moon Yeonghwa knew all too well the kind of people who made that face. You bastard… you’re a discriminator.

“It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it, that an omega created the Gongjindan for becoming an alpha.”

“In what way?”

“Just saying. Don’t take it the wrong way… you know? As a doctor, you wouldn’t have this issue, but among omegas, there are those who are desperate to make a living….”

If it weren’t right before the broadcast, Moon Yeonghwa would have pulled a long needle from his acupuncture case and stabbed it into the PD’s temple.

Gritting his teeth for the sake of his social life and the survival of his clinic, Moon Yeonghwa laughed it off with a ha ha ho ho. He even added a joke about how these days, saying things like that would get you stabbed somewhere.

When the PD saw that Moon Yeonghwa didn’t get angry at his words, he smirked with some thought.

As expected, the more he heard that omegas were different from others, the more it pissed him off. Please, Omega God, make sure this bastard’s show fails miserably.

“Alright, let’s start filming!”

“Have you checked all the questions?”

“Please come this way!”

Fortunately, aside from the PD, the other staff seemed normal, except for the dark circles under their eyes—clearly a sign of how cruelly the PD treated them, as they all moved busily with zombie-like faces.

Thanks to that, the filming itself ended smoothly. It was a show with pre-set questions, and since it wasn’t live, they said the editing would be amazing too.

Having appeared on the show just one day after being taken to the emergency room, his physical condition was terrible. Every time the studio lights passed overhead, he endured the feeling of fainting with sheer mental willpower.

If he gave the impression of being exhausted here, not only would he hear all that talk about how omegas were this and that, but the marketability of the Gongjindan he created would also drop.

With fierce determination, Moon Yeonghwa flawlessly delivered the lines he had practiced thousands of times.

Though he hadn’t properly monitored it, he was sure that he looked like an incredibly professional Korean medicine doctor during the shoot. Which he actually was, anyway.

Some time later, the cut sign came down, and staff members from all sides offered their thanks.

“Good work!”

The PD, who had been professionally silent during work, quickly approached Moon Yeonghwa, who was trying to head home.

“Doctor, I thought you were just good-looking, but you’re also a fantastic speaker. I almost thought you were an actor.”

Inside, he was screaming, ‘Get out of my way, I need to go home!’ but outwardly, he laughed along with the PD.

Being a working adult was truly painful. Even when you knew the other person was about to spout nonsense, you usually couldn’t interrupt them midway.

“How about we have a company dinner tonight?”

“Oh, my schedule is….”

“Surely, you’re not saying no?”

“I’d have to check….”

“Our staff are already lining up to buy that Gongjindan ahead of everyone else. Since we have this connection, it’d be even better if you could give us a discount.”

These bandits. They were audaciously demanding a discount on a product that hadn’t even launched yet.

It was common for broadcasting stations to get things this way, but did they have any idea how expensive those medicinal ingredients were to be asking for a discount so brazenly?

With his health already poor and the prospect of leaving on time now gone, it was hard to keep a smiling face.

The PD stood firm as a mountain, blocking him with an unspoken ‘Hehe, you can’t leave!’ while the zombie-like staff whispered among themselves about whether becoming an alpha would give them core muscles and make work less tiring.

As if alphas didn’t get tired.

Moon Yeonghwa really hated betas. He mentally accumulated another gauge of hatred. But outwardly, he maintained at least the minimum social smile.

“I’d really love to join the dinner, but I’m feeling terribly unwell today. Would it be difficult to postpone it to another time?”

“Oh, come on, Doctor. We both know you’ll just cut off contact after this. Do you think I haven’t dealt with people like you before? Are you planning to just appear once and be done?”

“….”

“Think of it as building connections and socialize a bit. You’re an omega, so you probably haven’t been to many of these gatherings, but this all becomes your blood and flesh, you know? Who knows, if we have spare spots, we might promote your clinic again.”

Not just the hatred gauge, but the anger gauge was filling up too. This PD bastard sure had a glib tongue, didn’t he?

It was true that because he was an omega, Moon Yeonghwa hadn’t often attended things like university freshman welcome parties, but listening to this kind of talk was unbearable. If his health had been fine, he might have endured it, but his mental strength was reaching its limit.

His head knew it was right to follow the PD to the dinner, but his body was convincing him to slap that smug mouth of the PD’s. Violence is not the right solution! …But that bastard started it!

Just as the fruits of all his hard-earned efforts were about to crumble, a voice pierced his ears like a miracle.

“Yeonghwa hyung!”

He heard Jung Pureum’s voice, whom he hadn’t seen in days.

For a moment, he thought he was hearing things. Why are you here? With his wet hair not even properly dried, Jung Pureum approached him—and by all appearances, he was real.

Some staff whispered, wondering if he was an actor. With a face like that, it made sense he could get into a broadcasting station that restricted outside visitors.

Either his eyes were going bad, or he saw a halo behind Jung Pureum. He truly looked like an angel signaling the end of work.

“Do you know him?”

The PD asked, slightly frowning. This bastard had no idea he was about to get punched if it weren’t for Jung Pureum.

Moon Yeonghwa barely pulled himself together and smiled brightly.

“Yes. I actually have a prior appointment with him right now. He must have come up to get me since I was running late.”

The lies flowed smoothly. But he couldn’t waste the perfect timing and strategic excuse Jung Pureum had provided.

“I’m really sorry we can’t join the dinner together. I’ll definitely set something up next time. You know I’m not avoiding the dinner because I have any ill feelings, right, PD? Especially when a young kid like this came all the way to find his hyung with his hair still wet….”

“Now, Doctor….”

“Oh my, look at this kid coming out without even drying his hair. It was truly, truly wonderful meeting you, PD! Well then, I’ll be off!”

Moon Yeonghwa swept past the PD and ran toward Jung Pureum. Then he grabbed him in a tight embrace. Thank you, my savior! My rescuer who saved me from the dinner!

Jung Pureum, who awkwardly hugged him back, laughed without a clue. Seeing that smile, all the pent-up hatred, anger, and fatigue seemed to melt away.

“Are you okay?”

As soon as they left the broadcasting station, his body felt even heavier.

“I feel like I’m dying.”

“I went to the clinic, and the assistant said hyung was taken to the emergency room yesterday. I knew you’d be busy, but I came straight here.”

“How did you even get into the station?”

“I didn’t say much, but they let me in, thinking I was someone affiliated.”

It really pays to be handsome. With his height and build, they must have assumed he was a rookie actor who hadn’t received his pass yet.

Imagining Jung Pureum bulldozing his way in with a ‘hehe’ laugh to find him brought Moon Yeonghwa a sense of calm. Next time, he’d have to check the PD’s character before choosing a broadcast appearance.

“If you were about to collapse, you should have postponed the shoot. Why did you do it?”

“Hey, you don’t kick away an opportunity that comes rolling in. Even if I die, I need to promote before I go.”

“Hyung….”

“Anyway, did you train well? Didn’t your coach say anything?”

“Same as always.”

No matter how talented Jung Pureum was as an athlete, that damn coach only knew how to torment a kid despite his age.

Before Moon Yeonghwa could fly into a rage and insist on replacing the coach, Jung Pureum quickly supported him.

Moon Yeonghwa twisted his body, recalling the doctor’s advice to avoid contact with alphas, but Jung Pureum held him tighter, as if telling him to stay still. Lacking the energy to resist, he simply slumped into his arms.

“Didn’t you miss me?”

“It was better when you weren’t here….”

“Really?”

“No. I did miss you.”

“Me too.”

What a cringey conversation, the kind rarely exchanged between neighborhood hyung-dongsaeng.

Moon Yeonghwa let out a hollow laugh.

“I was feeling like I was about to die just a moment ago.”

“….”

“Now that I see you, I don’t hurt at all.”