My Alpha Era Began with Gongjindan Chapter 2

‘Acupoints with effects for suppressing omega heat cycles.’

‘Herbal medicine effective for heat cycle pain.’

‘Acupuncture points that delay omega heat cycles.’

‘Gongjindan that makes you become an alpha upon secondary sexual manifestation.’

All of these were developed by me, holed up in the dispensary, experimenting on my own body. Of course, the last one among them didn’t have me as the test subject. After all, I’m a recessive omega who has already gone through secondary sexual development.

Someone might ask this kind of question.

In a world where discriminators are running rampant like this, how could those special Korean medicine remedies for alphas and omegas get patents or approval from the Ministry of Food and Drug Safety?

To answer: all except the last one among those four didn’t get approved. Those bastards. They’re all about making alphas, but have no interest in improving the quality of life for omegas.

No matter how much I curse in my mind, what’s not approved is not approved.

I sighed and covered my face with one hand. When I get angry, heat rises, so I needed to stay calm. When two ‘fires’ (火) stack, they become ‘flame’ (炎), and that causes inflammation in the body. I already have severe anemia as a Soeumin (lesser yin type), so at least my mind needs to stay cool. That way, the balance of yin and yang is maintained.

If patients don’t come because my skills are lacking, I can accept that, but I cannot tolerate patients avoiding my clinic because I’m an omega. Three generations of Korean medicine flow in my blood.

To calm my heated body, I inserted acupuncture needles into my own arm.

The effect of needling the acupoints that delay the heat cycle is this good, yet it galled me that those old-fashioned bastards wouldn’t approve my secret techniques.

“Yeonghwa hyung!”

“Oh, you scared me. The door’s going to break. Come in gently.”

“Hyung, something huge happened.”

“Why? Is the CSAT 100 days away?”

“…Yes.”

While I was shedding bloody tears over my failure, the high school senior living next door visited the clinic.

His name is Jung Pureum, age nineteen. His constitution is Taeyangin (greater yang type), which is rare in Korea. Perhaps because of that, he has a lot of heat, eats a lot… and his trait is beta.

His looks are more striking than alphas who are generally praised as handsome, and his build is so large it makes you doubt he’s really a beta. Even a guy like that is a beta, yet I’m not a beta.

Come to think of it, Jung Pureum is quite a fascinating specimen. After all, you can’t distinguish people by Korean medicine or MBTI either. Classifying humans into types is precisely the bane of modern society.

Jung Pureum has lived next door to me since he started living independently from his family home upon entering university.

Unlike his sister, Jung Pureum was always an adorable kid whenever I saw him. When I first met him, Jung Pureum was only twelve. Meaning he was a little kid coming home from school eating seasoned tteokkochi (rice cake skewers). Though even then, his build was already mountainous.

That’s around when I started indulging him because it was cute—this fifth-grader running after me saying ‘Hyung,’ ‘I really like you,’ ‘Marry me.’

I’m an only child, and while I don’t particularly love kids, I’m not heartless enough to treat a child who likes me and follows me around harshly.

Anyway, Jung Pureum has always been a bit odd since childhood.

His sister Jung Saebom still treats me like a complete stranger, but he clings to me as if I were his real brother. Yet when I ask, ‘Should I be your real brother?’ he shows intense rejection.

Perhaps because I went through puberty rather intensely myself, even watching someone else’s puberty from the sidelines, I couldn’t quite understand it.

The climax of his strange puberty was during middle school. After taking the secondary sex test at age fourteen, Jung Pureum was bedridden for a whole week. I thought he might have become an omega.

An omega with that build. Out of sympathy, I even bought electric chicken from the truck in front of the apartment and went to comfort him, but Jung Pureum wept and told me he was a beta.

An eight-year-younger dongsaeng, wailing in front of his recessive omega neighbor hyung about becoming a beta, which is the easiest to live with in this world….

I almost hit Jung Pureum with that electric chicken. When I retorted, ‘Then you become an omega!’ he answered, ‘I don’t want that!’ so I think I really did hit him. The electric chicken was innocent, so I personally punished him with my own hands.

“It seems like just yesterday you were whining about becoming a beta, and now you’re about to take the CSAT. Time flies.”

“I’ll be an adult next year too.”

“When you become an adult, you’ll nostalgically remember your days as a minor. How kind the world was to you, huh? After experiencing countless life storms as an adult….”

“Hyung… I have 100 days left until the CSAT….”

“So what.”

“Don’t you have a cheering message? Besides a sermon….”

“Didn’t Jung Saebom buy you a chocolate or something?”

“I don’t need what my sister gives me.”

If Jung Saebom heard that, she’d raise her fist, saying the kid has lost all discipline.

Both of the Jung siblings next door were in the sports world. Just as I’m from a Korean medicine doctor family, their family has been athletes since their parents’ generation.

Their mother is a former shot-putter, their father a former national shooting athlete. On the day they moved in, I went next door to deliver rice cakes and still can’t forget, even after seven years, the sight of the neighbor uncle being dragged by the aunt and slammed into the middle of the living room floor.

Perhaps because of that, both Jung siblings followed the elite athlete path. Jung Saebom, taking after her mother, said muscles formed too easily on her and used that body to major in modern dance. Jung Pureum, following his mother’s instruction that he had too much body heat and needed to frequently dunk his head in cold water, had been active as a swimmer since childhood.

The physical therapist for these siblings, raised in such a Spartan way, was me. Today I’m not a jjajang ramen cook or anything….

The aunt next door—that is, the mother of the Jung siblings and former shot-putter—completely changed her attitude the moment she learned I was a Korean medicine student. I still can’t forget the grip strength with which she squeezed my hand, asking me to take care of them as neighbors from now on.

So, even from my amateur days, I stuck around and gave acupuncture to Jung Saebom and Jung Pureum here and there. It was amateur practice, but not for profit. Back then, my life was at stake, so I had no choice. I had to survive at least. I couldn’t end up slammed into the living room like the neighbor uncle.

Through that, I got to eat side dishes from next door, occasionally join family events… and it became a neighbor I visited more often than my own family, getting close like family.

That’s probably why Jung Pureum wants cheering for the CSAT from me, his neighbor hyung, more than from his own sister Jung Saebom.

I brushed off my hands and stood up.

“I’ll buy you a meal.”

“Besides that?”

“What else. Buying you a meal is enough. You’re not even a freshman yet, and you’re already thinking about freeloading. Sly little thing.”

“Can’t you, like, give me a cheering kiss or something? Hyung is a Korean medicine grad. If I get that, I think I’ll do well on the CSAT.”

At nineteen years old, where did he hear such superstition and make a fuss asking for a kiss?

I stared at Jung Pureum with a cold expression. Pressured by my momentum, Jung Pureum dropped his head and made a pitiful face. He looked just like a large breed dog being scolded for breaking things while playing.

“I’ll make you some Gongjindan.”

“Gongjindan?”

“Yeah. There’s an expensive pill that test-takers often take. During this season, you can’t get it even if you have money.”

“I’d be fine with just one kiss from hyung….”

“Ahem. When an adult gives you something, you say thank you and accept it obediently.”

Now Jung Pureum was completely deflated, standing glued to my side like wilted spinach.

“Is it because I’m a beta?”

“What nonsense is that? Traits don’t matter at all for taking the CSAT. When you think about the countless alphas, omegas, and betas who shed bloody tears over my CSAT grades….”

“That’s not what I meant….”

“What’s with this tantrum? Do you think I’ll buy you beef if you act like this?”

“Hyung….”

“Fine, I’ll buy you beef. Test-takers need to eat well. And you, since you’re Taeyangin, don’t take red ginseng. Why would someone give you red ginseng as a CSAT gift when you already have so much heat? It’s clearly an assassination attempt by those who envy you.”

Jung Pureum, as if everything I rambled on about was right, nodded and clung tightly to my arm.

At the sight of a guy much bigger than me hunching over and winding around me, I chuckled, and Jung Pureum’s gaze shot straight to my face.

“Why are you staring like that. You’ll wear it out, stop looking.”

What on earth did this kid eat over the years to become a man with such blazing eyes? As expected, Taeyangin are indeed extraordinary.

“Don’t you have any thoughts when you see me, hyung?”

“I do have thoughts. Of course.”

“…What thoughts?”

“Thoughts about feeding you beef.”

Since he eats well, I guess I’ll be spending a bit today.

When I look at Jung Pureum, my thoughts are usually things like these. Even back when I bought him electric chicken, I bought three because one clearly wouldn’t be enough.

A neighbor dongsaeng eight years younger, and a beta at that, and we’ve known each other for a full seven years. By the time the year changes, it’ll be eight. I’ve known him longer than most elementary school classmates.

I put my arm around the shoulder of Jung Pureum, who is practically family. This guy, now that he’s grown a bit, sometimes acts very awkward about my physical touch. Every time this kid I raised does that, I feel a little let down.

“How did that little big kid grow up to be this big.”

“….”

“You’re the cutest among all the dongsaengs I know.”

At my words, Jung Pureum let out a deep sigh. With 100 days left until the CSAT, why such a sigh that might bring bad luck.