Underpainting Chapter 3.1 - Wet On Wet (1)

“Hooo…”

Taehan wiped the blood from the back of his hand with a towel. Before him, a man in his underwear, covered in blood, was tied to a chair. With graying hair and a wrinkled face, this was Executive Director Hwang, the man Taehan had painstakingly worked to capture for nearly three months.

“I apologize for bringing you to such a shabby place, Director.”

Despite his courteous words, Taehan’s eyes were bloodshot. It had been a long time since all the muscles in his body had been this tense. In his prime, Executive Director Hwang had risen to the top of the organization with nothing but his own strength, without any backing.

Even after locating him and planning today’s operation, Taehan had been extremely cautious. Five young members of the organization had raided Hwang’s hideout, but he hadn’t been easily captured. Only after Taehan personally intervened were they able to bring him here.

“I see I’ve raised a tiger cub.”

“You flatter me.”

As was his habit before starting a job, Taehan lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. He looked at Executive Director Hwang with an expression that asked if he wanted to join him, but Hwang shook his head.

“Ryu Taehan… I thought you were smarter. Now that you’ve grown up, shouldn’t you be able to see? Those people aren’t worthy of such loyalty.”

“…”

“Everything you do is being packaged as Seo Gihyuk’s achievement. After you finish the job today, Seo Gihyuk will be bragging that he caught Executive Director Hwang himself.”

“I know. Well… it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

The seasoned old man seemed to read Taehan’s intentions from his short answer. Taehan wasn’t driven by loyalty or personal resentment. It was simply a necessary step in achieving his plan.

Therefore, everything Executive Director Hwang had said so far was irrelevant to Taehan. The moment Hwang realized his persuasion wouldn’t work, his face crumbled quickly.

“I didn’t bring you here to hear that. Perhaps out of consideration for your long friendship, the Chairman said he would grant you one last wish.”

At Taehan’s seemingly generous words, Executive Director Hwang’s body began to tremble slightly. His cornered eyes darted around before he uttered absurd words.

“A wish… Then let me live.”

“Do you think that’s possible?”

“Please, I beg you. I can’t kneel or beg with both hands in this state, but if that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”

Stubbing out his cigarette, Taehan looked at the old man with a puzzled expression. The word “dignity” didn’t suit gangsters, but Hwang had always been a man of spirit. Taehan hadn’t expected him to be so pathetic.

“I can give you all my money. Or do you need something else? You just have to turn a blind eye. There’s a passage leading outside from this basement, right? Let me out quietly through there. I’ll live like I’m dead, never breathing a word about Seochang again.”

Seeing no sign of Taehan yielding, he pleaded more desperately.

“Then at least give me some time. Just three days, if you give me three days…”

“We can’t leave someone like you unattended for three days. Even now, if your wrists were freed, you could probably take out a couple of my men.”

“Then let me cut off my fingers. Or, there’s a secret door in the wooden wall to the right of that underground passage. It’s a small, secret room with no windows, and no one knows about it. Lock me in there. Can’t you give me just three days, no, even two days? I beg you.”

The story about the secret space was news to Taehan. Executive Director Hwang had been involved in the organization’s acquisition of this building 14 years ago, so it probably wasn’t a lie.

It was useful information, but also a strange request. He was seriously injured, so escaping from a confined space would be difficult. What meaning could there be in simply prolonging his life for a few more days?

‘Is there a reason he needs to stall for time? Someone he needs to help escape, perhaps…’

The thought that he could have handled the job more easily if he had known about such a person earlier crossed his mind, along with a strange sense of displeasure. As if to steady his wavering emotions, Taehan asked coldly,

“You know better than anyone that’s impossible. Do you have anything else to say?”

As Taehan pulled out his switchblade, Executive Director Hwang’s eyes reddened. With an impassive face, Taehan cleanly plunged the blade between his ribs. The old man, once a pillar of the organization, died without even closing his eyes.

After carefully wiping and folding the switchblade, Taehan walked towards Executive Director Hwang’s clothes, which had been thrown on the basement floor. Usually, he would collect the target’s belongings before the final cleanup, but the situation had been too urgent this time.

Taehan searched the pockets for anything that could identify Hwang. He found a wallet in the inside pocket of the jacket. Opening it, he saw a small photo tucked deep in the card slot.

‘A child.’

It was a picture of a little girl, about five years old. He recalled the rumors that had been circulating for a few years about Executive Director Hwang having a secret child. It was around that time that Hwang had started to build a faction to betray the organization.

Normally, this was something he should report to Seo Gihyuk or the Chairman. However, feeling strangely reluctant, Taehan tucked the photo back into its original place and pocketed the wallet. Killing someone was never pleasant, but today it left a particularly bad taste in his mouth.

Even as he smoked a cigarette by the entrance after leaving the cleanup to his men, Taehan couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling. It had been a long time since he had felt so disturbed by something that wasn’t his concern.

If he had to put it into words, it felt like witnessing a pathetic collapse firsthand. The fact that the existence of something “to protect” could make a person so desperate and pathetic was unsettling.

‘It’s ridiculous. When a gangster starts going soft, it’s over for him.’

Taehan stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette. His agitated mood wasn’t solely due to the job; it was also because of an unpleasant appointment he had afterward.

“The boss is calling.”

As he entered the house, Gwangwoo, already prepared to leave, handed Taehan his phone. Taehan answered with a cold expression.

“Yes. I just finished. I’ll report the details in person. I also have a present I’ve prepared.”

He didn’t want to see Seo Gihyuk’s face on a day like this, but it was a prearranged appointment, so he had no choice. It was scheduled to deliver a painting he had been preparing.

Taehan’s hardened expression throughout the car ride contorted as they reached Seo Gihyuk’s house. However, the moment the elevator arrived at the penthouse on the top floor, Taehan donned the mask of a calm and loyal subordinate.

“Taehan! Long time no see. You look better every time I see you. Hahaha.”

Seo Gihyuk greeted Taehan with unusual warmth, extending his hand for a shake. He seemed overjoyed that Executive Director Hwang, a thorn in his side, had been eliminated. Dealing with Hwang was the most crucial step in Seo Gihyuk’s succession plan.

Even so, if he had any sense, he wouldn’t tell someone who had just killed a man that they looked well. Taehan forced a smile and shook Seo Gihyuk’s hand.

“How have you been?”

“Oh, me? I’m fine. Anyway, you did a great job. Father will be very pleased. Thinking about that worthless bastard Hwang stirring up trouble like a mudfish… Ugh.”

As Seo Gihyuk rambled, his eyes widened as he noticed the men behind Taehan carrying something large and flat.

“What’s all that? You said you had a present, is that it?”

Taehan nodded and gestured to his men. As they leaned the painting against the wide living room wall and unwrapped it, Seo Gihyuk’s excitement was palpable.

“Wow, this isn’t just any painting. It looks old. Must have cost a fortune.”

“I thought of you since you mentioned you’ve been interacting with people from art foundations lately. Regarding this, there’s something I wanted to discuss…”

At Taehan’s signal, his men withdrew. Standing side-by-side in front of the painting, Taehan asked innocently,

“Sir, this painting… does it look genuine to you?”

“…So you’re telling me, you were trying to give me a potentially fake painting?”

Seo Gihyuk seemed to catch on immediately. He wasn’t particularly intelligent, but he was sensitive to anyone who looked down on him. The reason he had been so resentful of Executive Director Hwang was because he sensed Hwang’s contempt.

“There’s a famous art dealer near the workshop where I’ve been working lately. I thought of you and went in to see if there were any paintings worth buying. I happened to see someone connected to Guyeong coming out of the place.”

“Guyeong’s people?”

“It’s an old story, but there were rumors that Guyeong was involved in counterfeit paintings. I noticed recently that even though we hit Guyeong’s operations a while ago, their funds don’t seem to have dried up. It’s like they have a money source we don’t know about.”

Seo Gihyuk might have been lacking in other areas, but he had a nose for money. He was already hooked by Taehan’s fabricated story.

“If this painting is real, then it’s a good gift. If not, we can use it as a pretext to get a good lead.”

“Hmm…”

“But I’m no expert, and no matter how much I look at it, I can’t tell. What do you think? Does this painting… look real to you?”

Seo Gihyuk narrowed his eyes, examining the painting closely. Coincidentally, he was looking right at the area where the lens was hidden. Taehan felt no tension. The texture around the lens had been carefully manipulated to be undetectable to the naked eye.

Only by staring intently at a specific spot for a while could one realize that a lens was hidden there. Like Dawon’s eyes, peeking at Taehan from behind the curtain.

Looking at the round lens, Taehan recalled that moment. The night they went out together, when he, slightly drunk, encountered Dawon in the silent second-floor hallway. The moment he grabbed Dawon, reeking of sweetness, and pressed his hand against his lips. Dawon’s frightened face looking up at him.

“Mister…?”

Bathed in a single ray of light in the darkness, Dawon’s body glowed white. His usually messy hair shimmered with moisture, and even his red lips were glistening with spilled droplets.

The voice that escaped his pressed lips was as innocent as a child’s. He seemed completely unaware of the thoughts filling Taehan’s mind.

He had been like that even while they were eating at the restaurant. He seemed to genuinely believe the scent Taehan exuded was just alcohol. A ridiculous misconception. Even the finest wine couldn’t possibly have such an alluring scent.

‘Does this kid still think he’s a Beta?’

No matter how sensitive and clever he seemed, Dawon was a child who didn’t even know his own secondary gender. He probably had no experience, and couldn’t even conceive of his body being used for such things.

Taehan wasn’t the kind of pathetic man who obsessed over someone’s first time. He preferred partners who knew what they were doing, making it easier to satisfy his needs.

A novice who needed to be taught everything, especially one as fragile as Dawon, who looked like he would crumble into dust with the slightest touch, wasn’t someone he would consider.

‘Why does he keep looking at me like that when he knows nothing?’

Yet, why did his stomach churn when he looked into those clear eyes? Perhaps because he had lived for so long without knowing anything, Dawon seemed eager to learn everything. He stared at Taehan with wary eyes, but couldn’t hide his curiosity, his eyes sparkling as he listened to everything Taehan taught him.

Would he be the same if Taehan taught him pain? If he showed him pleasures he’d never experienced? If he tightly gripped and caressed his pale, delicate skin, his slender neck? If he took his untouched, unripe body, opened it, thrust into it, and rocked it, taming him in Taehan’s way?

‘It’s probably better to let him in.’

Even as his mind reasoned this, Taehan’s eyes raked down Dawon’s body, from his eyes to his legs. Those legs had bothered him since the first time he saw them. Did their noticeable asymmetry stir something within him? His pheromones felt like they were running wild, even though his rut was still far off.

It had been like this since the afternoon, when he unwrapped and re-bandaged Dawon’s right arm. His wrist, still pale and thin, unlike the rest of his slightly fleshier body. In that moment, Taehan imagined pulling Dawon onto the bed by that pitiful wrist, ripping off the clothes loosely covering his body.

Had the bruises that had covered his small frame like paint faded by now, or were they still there? What would his mottled skin taste like? No, more than that. How would it feel to leave his mark on that newly clean, white skin?

He wanted to take that child, who looked up at him with such innocent ignorance, into his room and do anything to him. Until he screamed in surprise, struggled violently, and begged him to stop.

‘I’m going crazy.’

To be honest, he had thought it would be easier to handle this child if he were an Omega. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered touching him at all. But he hadn’t thought about it like this.

His pride wouldn’t allow him to be aroused by a pre-pubescent child without any context. To be stirred by those innocent eyes looking up at him… he hadn’t had such pathetic fantasies even during puberty.

It was nothing. He had been preoccupied with a lot of things lately, but hadn’t been able to release his pent-up frustration. He hadn’t called for an Omega since bringing this child home. The last Omega he had called was sent away without being touched because of Dawon’s arrival.

‘Right. It’s just a whim that will fade when I wake up.’

With the intention of letting Dawon in, Taehan removed his fingers from his lips. Seeing the red stain blooming where his mucous membrane had been pressed made his stomach churn again, but he forced a nonchalant expression.

“What are you doing up so late? Go inside.”

It was ridiculous, considering he had rushed out into the hallway as soon as he sensed Dawon’s presence. Dawon, for whatever reason, didn’t go in right away and just parted his red lips slightly.

Even that seemed to be tempting him, so Taehan eventually turned and left the hallway as if fleeing. If he had looked at Dawon any longer, he might have made a foolish mistake.

“Hmm. I can’t really tell just by looking at it. If I can’t tell, then even if it is a fake like you say, Taehan, it still has business potential! Hahaha.”

The moment Seo Gihyuk, who had been scrutinizing the painting for a while, said that, Taehan was pulled back to reality from his hazy memories. Despite not being a connoisseur, Seo Gihyuk chuckled, seemingly genuinely embarrassed that he hadn’t gotten the answer right.

“I’m glad you think so. Then I’ll proceed with the investigation as soon as possible.”

“Yes. The art business… it certainly sounds nice. Don’t you think?”

It was the reaction he expected. Even though he enjoyed everything that Chairman Seo had built with his fists, Seo Gihyuk always wanted to find his own business area that didn’t “look like gangster business.”

As if he wanted to cultivate some belated sophistication in a gangster family, Chairman Seo spared no expense in supporting his son’s vanity. It was a completely different attitude from how he had raised Taehan, who hadn’t even been given his surname, strictly as “someone from this world.”

‘Sounds nice, my ass. What does art or whatever even matter?’

Scoffing inwardly at Seo Gihyuk’s words, Taehan suddenly thought of Dawon sketching on a napkin at the restaurant, and of Dawon retouching this painting.

Drawing lines with a pen, mixing paints to create the desired colors, and then painting the calculated texture on the canvas—it all seemed as natural as breathing to Dawon. His eyes, as he handled the painting, were relaxed to the point of boredom, but watching him made Taehan uncomfortable.

It was as if he could clearly see the time Dawon had spent to become so skilled. Taehan, who had been summoned to his biological father’s house around the age of ten, was the same. He had to grip a kitchen knife and a wooden stick before a pencil, learning how to hit and intimidate others first.

‘No, more than that… it’s because he’s useful, Kwon Dawon.’

Taehan pushed aside unnecessary sentimentality. Dawon was too valuable to be confined to a small room, only painting. He was overflowing with the desire to learn anything and everything, and he mastered any task within a short period.

A few days ago, Guyeong Industries, in a last-ditch effort to resolve its financial crisis, had attempted large-scale stock manipulation. If anyone were to find out that Guyeong Industries’ struggles had been thwarted by that small child, they would surely covet his talent.

‘Yes. That kid should do more, many more things…’

Taehan, who had unconsciously put a strange nuance on the words “many more things,” suddenly pulled himself together. Even if Seo Gihyuk was an idiot, it was unlike him to be distracted by strange thoughts so many times in front of him. It was something the usual Taehan would never do.

“Ha…”

Back in the car after leaving Seo Gihyuk’s house, Taehan sighed deeply. Even though the planned events were unfolding as predicted, his mood was unsettled. There was a specific method Taehan usually employed when his mind was this turbulent.

“To the house… no, to a hotel.”

It was an unusual request, but Gwangwoo immediately understood Taehan’s intentions.

“Should I call someone? The usual place?”

The place Gwangwoo mentioned was an Omega escort service. Hearing those words, he wasn’t as enthusiastic as he thought he would be, but since his pheromones were bubbling, it seemed best to be with an Omega.

“Do that. As for who comes… I don’t care.”

Taehan almost added, “Someone with a slender build this time,” but he bit his lip, swallowing the absurd words.

The hotel Gwangwoo led him to was impeccably maintained, as per Taehan’s preferences. However, during his shower, Taehan’s mood, far from improving, only worsened. Just as he was consumed by the urge to smoke, a knock came, and the hotel room door opened.

“Director Ryu, right? I’ve heard a lot about you. Thank you for calling me.”

The Omega who entered, dressed in flowing clothes, was tall and toned, the type Taehan usually called for. Someone unremarkable enough to be easily forgotten, even if they had met a few times before.

The overly flirtatious attitude and the scent they exuded without any attempt to conceal it were common for those in this line of work, so it shouldn’t have bothered him. No, he thought it didn’t.

“D-Director…?”

Taehan simply stared silently at the person he had called. His already intimidating eyes, even when expressionless, sharpened.

He felt inexplicably uncomfortable. He couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. Perhaps everything was bothering him. The voice, the body, and above all, the scent.

‘What is this smell?’

It wasn’t a particularly unusual scent. It resembled a floral fragrance, a common type of Omega pheromone. Yet, it felt incredibly repulsive. His stomach churned, as if he had smelled something he shouldn’t have.

As Taehan continued to frown in silence, the called Omega became flustered. Darting his eyes around, gauging the situation, he slowly approached Taehan.

“You don’t look well. Are you very tired? In times like these…”

The moment the Omega whispered softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, a chill ran down Taehan’s spine. He instinctively brushed the hand away roughly.

Something was definitely wrong. If he embraced this Omega now, things might return to normal, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Taehan put his clothes back on. He pulled out a handful of bills from his wallet, tossed them onto the bed, and left without a word.

Gwangwoo, who was waiting in the car, looked startled by Taehan’s appearance. Normally, he would have spent hours venting his frustrations until the called Omega was exhausted.

“…I need to go home.”

Gwangwoo had watched Taehan for a long time and was almost the only person who had his trust. That made it even more unpleasant to show him this side of himself. Because Gwangwoo would surely realize that Taehan was seriously malfunctioning.

Back home, Taehan ignored the greetings of his men and went straight up the stairs. As he reached the second-floor hallway, his brow furrowed deeper.

Dawon was there. Even though Taehan’s footsteps had echoed throughout the house, Dawon seemed oblivious, his face practically buried in the open refrigerator. Taehan was dumbfounded. What was going on inside that strange child’s head?

“What are you doing?”

At the sharp question, Dawon turned to look at Taehan. The welcoming light in his eyes quickly turned sharp.

“Where have you been?”

“…”

“You… smell different.”

Did the child even realize what he was saying? Why did he keep provoking Taehan with those innocent eyes? Someone he had considered so easy was suddenly difficult to understand, and anger surged within him.

Taehan’s simmering emotions finally exploded. He grabbed Dawon’s thin, clumsily bandaged wrist and asked,

“Kid. Do you really want to know?”

The day after they had gone out together, Taehan called Dawon downstairs to correct the painting. He was more curt and businesslike than usual. The strange attitude from their encounter in the hallway the previous night was gone.

Dawon was puzzled but thought he might have been mistaken about what he felt that night. Even if it wasn’t a misunderstanding, he couldn’t very well confront Taehan about it.

‘Mister. Last night, you looked at me with such a heated gaze. You pressed your hot fingers against my lips. Why did you do that?’

Just thinking about it made his cheeks burn; it was a foolish question. Whatever that tense moment had been, it wasn’t important. If Taehan wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, then Dawon could do the same.

The problem was that Dawon had too much time on his hands. For three days after that, Taehan was busy, going somewhere. He didn’t visit Dawon to teach him anything, nor did he take him anywhere.

It was similar to when Dawon first arrived at this house, but the same amount of time felt much longer and more tedious now. Perhaps because of the boredom, strange thoughts kept popping into his head, and his body felt subtly warm.

‘It’s just a touch on the lips. I need to stop thinking about it.’

All Dawon could do was stare out the window with flushed cheeks. Looking around the empty garden and then at the front gate, the spot where Taehan always smoked, had become his entire routine.

He had briefly seen Taehan, who hadn’t been visible at all, earlier that afternoon. Two black cars had entered the garden, and Taehan, along with his men and a man whose face he couldn’t see clearly, got out. He saw the men escorting the other man, almost as if they were dragging him, into the house.

‘It’s not escorting… it looks like they’re forcibly dragging him in.’

They all went down to the basement, and after a brief flurry of footsteps, there was silence. Most people would feel pity or revulsion knowing that someone was dying in the basement of the house they were in, but Dawon was indifferent to such things.

Dawon always felt like he lived close to death. Besides, humaneness was also an emotion that had to be learned. No one had ever pitied him, so Dawon didn’t know how to pity anyone. He was simply curious.

‘It couldn’t have been my uncle, could it? No, I don’t think so.’

Even though the man’s face was obscured, Dawon would have recognized his uncle instantly. It seemed Taehan wasn’t ready to grant his request yet.

Trying to calm his restless feelings, Dawon listened for any sounds from the first floor. It didn’t take long for Taehan to finish his “work.” Soon, he appeared in the garden. Dawon knew what he was about to do. He took a cigarette from his inner pocket, put it in his mouth, and blew out white smoke.

The image of those red lips and cool profile, seen through the cigarette smoke, vividly resurfaced in Dawon’s mind. In that moment, Dawon realized something. During the days Taehan hadn’t come to him, he had been waiting for him the entire time.

‘Like a puppy, seriously.’

It was more of an unpleasant feeling than an affectionate one. He felt like he had become something small and powerless. Dawon had always been small and powerless, but at least he had always despised and hated those who made him feel that way with all his might.

But now, it wasn’t like that. Despite his discomfort, Dawon also felt his heart flutter at the thought of Taehan coming inside after finishing his cigarette.

Contrary to his expectations, when Taehan got into the car and left, Dawon felt disappointed. He was literally like a puppy. Excited by the sound of his owner’s footsteps, only to have his tail droop again.

‘I need to do something.’

He felt like he was going crazy. He had to fill the long, dragging hours with something. As he picked up the dictionary, now tattered from being read so much in the past few days, a pencil he had tucked inside fell to the floor.

Picking up the pencil, Dawon’s gaze shifted to the dresser. Inside were the notebooks he had brought from the storage room. He had a pencil, blank paper, and empty time. The churning thoughts inside him felt like they were about to burst out.

‘If it’s now…’

If it was now, Dawon felt like he could draw anything. But he also felt like he shouldn’t. It was as if, the moment he took a single step, the boundaries would crumble, and everything would become irreversible.

After staring at the dresser with the pencil clutched in his hand for a long time, Dawon backed away again. Fleeing his room, he opened the refrigerator in the hallway. He was meticulously counting the bottles, tracing Taehan’s presence through them, when a voice startled him.

“What are you doing?”

Taehan had returned home at some point. His appearance, after a few days apart, seemed unfamiliar. Was it because his face looked a little thinner? Dawon suddenly remembered the question Taehan had asked him when they first met.

“Kid. What do you think this room smells like?”

Dawon realized what the source of his unease was. The scents emanating from Taehan were cigarette smoke, a faint smell of blood, the scent of disinfectant, and an unidentifiable scent that Dawon now recognized as “Taehan’s scent.” And…

“You… smell different.”

He smelled a scent he had never smelled on Taehan before. At that moment, Dawon recalled something. Taehan always called for an Omega to the house after killing someone. And today, there had been a “guest” at the house.

It shouldn’t have mattered to Dawon. Who Taehan met, who he slept with, and what scent he brought back with him. But he didn’t understand why something kept churning inside his chest. Something like anger.

‘No, there’s no reason to be angry. It’s just that this is such a strange smell. What in the world…’

It was a nauseating scent, indescribable. The smell alone made his stomach churn, and Dawon’s face hardened. Taehan’s expression also turned cold. Did he think Dawon had crossed a line? His eyes glowed with a strange grayish light.

“Kid. Do you really want to know?”

Taehan asked, gripping Dawon’s arm. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his long, straight neck taut. His low voice sounded as if it would swallow Dawon whole.

The sensation Dawon had felt a few days ago in this very spot hadn’t been a misunderstanding. That chilling feeling had now amplified several times, surging through the air.

The place where his hand touched felt burning hot, yet chilling, as if it would freeze his heart. Fear and dizziness intertwined, rising up his spine.

Yes. I want to know.

If Dawon said those words, would Taehan bring another world, one Dawon had never experienced, into this space? What would be left after that heat burned him completely? He was afraid, yet he also wanted to crumble right then and there. An unfamiliar feeling stirred within him.

Perhaps it wasn’t just his emotions that were stirring. For some reason, his skin suddenly itched all over, and his blood pounded in his veins.

‘What’s happening to me?’

His body felt strange. It was like the dizziness he had felt when he first met Taehan had amplified tenfold. He hadn’t drunk any alcohol, yet his breath seemed to carry its scent. No, a scent much sweeter and stickier than alcohol.

Just as the tension reached its peak, footsteps approached. It was Gwangwoo, coming up the stairs to the second floor. He lowered his voice, his demeanor apologetic and embarrassed.

“Director, Mr. Choi Beomsik is here.”

Choi Beomsik. His uncle’s name. Dawon turned to look at Taehan’s expression. Taehan, also seemingly caught off guard, had a distorted look on his face.

Taehan fidgeted with Dawon’s wrist, still held in his grasp. Despite the lingering touch, his voice was icy as he ordered Dawon,

“Go to your room. And don’t come out.”

When Dawon hesitated, he opened the door himself and pushed Dawon inside. Taehan’s footsteps faded beyond the closed door. It sounded like he was going down to the first floor to meet his uncle.

Normally, he would have pressed his ear against the floor to eavesdrop on their conversation, but he didn’t feel like it. That wasn’t important right now.

‘My body definitely feels strange. My mood too.’

With flushed cheeks, Dawon paced his room. His skin itched all over, and he wanted to rub or scratch himself against something.

‘No, it’s not that, it’s more like…’

Overcome by a strange sensation, Dawon was startled by his own thoughts and shook his head. This wouldn’t do. He had to release the churning emotions inside him, somewhere.

With heavy, thudding steps, Dawon walked to the dresser. He pulled out the worn notebook that had been bothering him. Sitting at the desk, he opened to a blank page and, as if possessed, started moving his pencil across the paper.

Long and short lines formed a solid, pillar-like shape, and soon, the body of a man standing upright, one arm supporting the other, took form.

‘I can do it.’

Dawon’s cheeks flushed with excitement. About to draw more lines, he ripped off the loosely wrapped bandage that hindered his arm’s movement. Goosebumps rose as the pencil touched his bare skin.

Dawon’s pencil moved faster. A neat suit, long fingers, and a cigarette held between them quickly filled the paper. He then sketched the angled jawline and slicked-back hair, completing the man’s firm, delicate face.

It was a rough sketch, but it was the first drawing Dawon had created without a reference since he was seven years old. Finally, he filled the eyes with a near-black shade of gray, and the eyes of the man he had drawn stared back at him.

Dawon faced the Taehan he had drawn. His breath trembled with a strange thrill. He ripped out the page he had just drawn and threw it on the floor. The fresh white paper behind it was revealed.

‘I can draw. I can draw as much as I want.’

To observe was to understand. The world couldn’t be the same when you knew something and when you didn’t. Dawon’s universe was already tainted by newfound knowledge. To put it more gently, he had become colored by Taehan.

Meanwhile, Taehan’s mood, as he descended to the first floor, couldn’t have been worse. The moment he saw Choi Beomsik’s brazenly greeting face, Taehan clenched his fists so tightly that the veins in his hands bulged.

“Mr. Choi. What brings you here?”

But hiding his true feelings in any situation was Taehan’s specialty. At Taehan’s smiling question, Choi Beomsik responded, unable to hide his fidgeting.

“Director Ryu, I apologize for coming unannounced. I… about the painting you took before… I was wondering if I could receive the remaining payment, due at the end of this month, a little earlier.”

His eyes were bloodshot. After visiting the casino with Taehan, Choi Beomsik had been frequenting the place alone whenever he had the chance. Taehan had been receiving reports on how much money he had lost.

Even though he received a substantial amount of money from Taehan as a down payment for the fake artwork, Choi Beomsik had already squandered more than that. He might have thought it would be fine since he was expecting money from Guyeong Industries, his main client.

Guyeong Industries, whose business had begun to falter due to Taehan’s actions, had ordered more paintings from Choi Beomsik than usual in a desperate attempt to raise funds. But their last-ditch effort was futile, and Guyeong was rapidly collapsing.

With the company in such dire straits, Guyeong wasn’t going to prioritize paying a con artist for fake paintings. It seemed Choi Beomsik, suddenly cut off from his funding source, had come to Taehan in desperation.

“Well, as a business, it’s difficult for us to change schedules easily.”

“I-I see. Hahaha. I understand completely. Don’t worry about it. I just…”

“More than that, Mr. Choi.”

Choi Beomsik, who had been trying to hide his disappointment with a forced smile, flinched at Taehan’s words. Though Taehan was still smiling, a chilling aura emanated from his eyes.

“Do you have anything to say about that painting?”

At the pointed question, Choi Beomsik’s complexion turned blotchy. He responded slowly, his agitation evident.

“What… do you mean…?”

“Well, I’ve heard some things.”

“Ah, hmm, hmm. There are always all sorts of rumors going around. Hahaha.”

After an awkward laugh, Choi Beomsik, as if wanting to change the subject quickly, looked around.

“By the way, I noticed this before, but you have a really spacious and nice house. It’s so big I can’t even tell where my nephew is.”

“Ah, your nephew.”

Taehan’s mood darkened further at the mention of Dawon. A coiled snake tightened within him, venom rising. Almost impulsively, Taehan asked,

“Of course, he’s doing well. Since you’re here, would you like to see him?”

“Ah, should I?”

“This way.”

Instead of leading Choi Beomsik to the stairs leading to the second floor, Taehan guided him toward the basement entrance. Intrigued by the sturdy-looking metal bars, Choi Beomsik cheerfully stepped onto the stairs leading down.

“Wow, you have a place like this too. But where is that rascal Dawon… Ugh!”

The moment he took another step, Taehan kicked him in the backside. The heavyset man tumbled down the stairs. With an impassive face, Taehan looked down at him, closed the basement’s metal door, and turned on the light below.

This was Taehan’s “workshop.”

“Ugh, oof… Director Ryu. What… what is the meaning of this…?”

Choi Beomsik, sprawled on the basement floor, groaned. For a brief moment, he spoke as if he had been unjustly treated.

It might not have been an entirely wrong reaction. Taehan had no intention of treating him fairly. But more importantly, Choi Beomsik wasn’t in any position to complain, no matter what Taehan did.

As Taehan slowly descended the stairs, Choi Beomsik seemed to gradually grasp the situation. Unless his sense of smell was completely gone, there was no way he could miss the scent permeating the basement. The pungent smell of bleach. And beneath that, not entirely masked, the smell of fresh blood.

The moment Choi Beomsik’s face paled, Taehan, having reached the bottom of the stairs, turned on the light. The chilling scene of the “workshop” was revealed under the dim lighting.

“H-Hiek…”

Patches of uncleaned blood remained on the damp basement floor. The tools hanging on the wall, and most notably, the suspiciously large sack in the corner, were stained with blood.

“D-Director Ryu. D-Did I say something to offend you…?”

As Taehan rolled up his sleeves as usual, releasing the pheromones he had been suppressing, Choi Beomsik’s face went even whiter than when he smelled the blood. Taehan then pulled out his switchblade from his back pocket.

“Oh, oh dear, why are you doing this, Director Ryu? Let’s resolve this through conversation. We… there must be some misunderstanding…”

“Ah, conversation. I was just thinking of doing that myself.”

Taehan readily agreed, flicking his switchblade open and closed, the blade rotating in his hand. Click, click. Various thoughts flitted through his mind amidst the menacing metallic sounds.

The “nice-sounding business” Seo Gihyuk had talked about. The pale, thin fingers mechanically applying paint. The blue and red bruises he saw when he lifted the worn clothing. The slenderness of one ankle.

And above all, Taehan recalled the moment he first met Dawon. The words the child, who had stumbled into the heart of his house, had uttered so fearlessly.

“I have someone I want to kill.”

Dawon’s lips had trembled slightly as he spoke those words. His seemingly calm eyes held a quiet but deep rage and a burning desire. It must have been a plea, laden with long-held resentment and hope.

It wasn’t something impossible. The aftermath would be troublesome, and he would have to find another source of income to replace the counterfeit painting business for Seo Gihyuk, but if he set his mind to it, killing the man right here, right now, would be nothing.

‘Yes. It’s something I can do.’

What kind of expression would Dawon make if his long-held wish came true? Come to think of it, he didn’t recall ever seeing the child smile. No, he might even cry. What would it be like to see his face as he cried, pouring everything out? A tingling sensation in his gut made him bite his lip, and then a question arose.

‘…Why am I thinking about this?’

Something was wrong. The very act of pondering this meant his heart was already leaning in that direction. Even if it wasn’t impossible, killing Choi Beomsik was far removed from Taehan’s plans.

Taehan wasn’t particularly impulsive, nor did he like taking risks for others. He preferred to meticulously calculate and plan everything before acting. There was no reason or need to upset his plans.

Yet, things had already gone off track. Initially, Taehan had intended to slowly lay a trap, forcing Choi Beomsik to hand over the painting business. Dragging the man down here in a fit of anger was already a deviation from his plan.

Taehan closed himself off further. Kwon Dawon was useful, and frankly, an interesting child, but Taehan didn’t need to ruin himself for him. The fact that he had almost done so unconsciously was unsettling.

While lost in thought, Taehan’s expression hardened. Choi Beomsik, his legs trembling like aspen leaves, forced himself into a kneeling position and whimpered,

“Director Ryu, I was wrong. I-It was all my fault, so please don’t…”

Taehan no longer felt angry at him, but he had started this, so he had to finish it. Fortunately, Taehan could easily intimidate others without feeling any emotion.

Click, click. The sharp sound of the switchblade grew closer to Choi Beomsik.

“What did you do wrong to deserve this?”

“No, that’s, I mean…”

“Yes, tell me, Mr. Choi. Let’s hear how little you thought of Seochang to hand over such shoddy paintings.”

Taehan grabbed Choi Beomsik by the hair with a strong hand. He held the blade under his chin, and Choi Beomsik gasped, his body trembling pathetically.

“Tsk. I’m not trying to hurt you, sir. You need to stay still. You might die like this. This is a spot where even a small nick will make the blood gush out.”

“Th-Then, let go. P-Put the knife away…”

“I can’t do that. You wanted to talk. You’re not the kind of person who can have an honest conversation with a thug like me without this, are you?”

“Uh, h-hiik, I-I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you everything as it is.”

The moment the blade pricked his skin, Choi Beomsik’s face turned pale, almost blue. As if it were some great secret, he hesitantly continued,

“I-It wasn’t that I looked down on Director Ryu, it’s just that this is the kind of business I do. So, it’s not just that painting, I originally…”

It was a story Taehan already knew, but he feigned surprise.

“So… you’re saying all the paintings in that warehouse were fake? There are people who buy such paintings?”

At Taehan’s seemingly intrigued attitude, Choi Beomsik nodded eagerly, as if he had found a lifeline. Taehan suppressed a sneer and pretended to listen to his explanation of the counterfeit painting operation.

Choi Beomsik, already in a difficult position due to the collapse of Guyeong, his backing, readily agreed to hand over the business rights to Seochang, just as Taehan had led him to. Out of fear, he even promised to give them a much higher commission than what he had given to Guyeong.

He stamped his seal on the contract Gwangwoo had prepared and practically crawled back to his house. Considering he had acted impulsively, the situation had worked out quite well.

‘Yes. Everything is still going according to plan.’

As he was trying to regain his composure, the men who had cleaned up Executive Director Hwang’s place returned and reported the situation. Since Hwang had been living in hiding without leaving any traces, the job had been handled more cleanly than usual.

Seo Gihyuk’s succession, which he had been working on for a long time, was also nearing its final stages. There was no reason to be anxious, yet the nausea wouldn’t subside.

Unlike the somber Taehan, his subordinates seemed excited, perhaps because they felt they had accomplished something great. As they chuckled and chatted amongst themselves, the youngest suddenly sniffed the air loudly.

“Huh? Something smells nice.”

“This kid must have smelled money.”

“Ah, Mr. Seo will give us a good bonus. He’s generous in that regard.”

“No, it’s not that…”

The youngest, his cheeks flushed, approached Taehan and grinned.

“Director, it seems you’ve been somewhere nice today.”

Taehan’s mind snapped back at the suggestive tone. A chill ran down his spine, and he couldn’t respond. The youngest, oblivious, continued to babble,

“It’s a pheromone I haven’t smelled before… Must be a newbie. Do you happen to know their name? I might want to call for them next time.”

By “nice place,” the youngest meant an escort service. He was, indeed, obsessed with such places, and he knew the Omegas working there almost as well as the managers did. He had probably already called for the Omega Taehan had left at the hotel earlier.

The youngest seemed excited, mistakenly believing there was a new Omega he hadn’t encountered at his usual haunt. But the pheromone he was smelling wasn’t from an escort.

It was a scent emanating from somewhere in this house. The very scent that had been unsettling Taehan, even though he hadn’t consciously noticed it.

“Hmm, the scent is really strange. A child, perhaps…?”

Seeing the youngest inhaling deeply, Taehan felt another surge of nausea. He couldn’t stand the irritating feeling. He wanted to rip apart that chattering mouth. The covetous gaze, the bobbing Adam’s apple, everything.

‘Should I kill him?’

The thought crossed Taehan’s mind. Just then, one of the other men, sensing the dangerous atmosphere, cautiously pulled the youngest back.

“This kid’s gone crazy… S-Sorry, boss.”

The youngest’s face paled as he finally saw Taehan’s expression. Only after seeing him hurriedly lower his head and back away did Taehan realize how menacing he must have looked.

He didn’t want to make a spectacle of himself in front of his subordinates, but his anger wouldn’t subside. Gwangwoo, standing beside him, sensing the need to diffuse the situation, carefully asked,

“Director, should we forward this contract to Mr. Seo as is? Or…”

“No, leave it for now. And…”

Taehan gestured towards the youngest, who had hidden himself away, and said,

“Have him report to headquarters starting tomorrow.”

It was an impulsive order, but saying it made him feel slightly better. Gwangwoo seemed surprised by the decision to dismiss the youngest, but he nodded.

“…Understood. Then, who should we request as a replacement?”

It was perhaps natural to bring up the topic of a replacement. The number of men under his command also influenced his power within the organization.

Moreover, many within the organization looked down on Taehan’s team, mostly composed of Betas. Taehan had long been dissatisfied with the reckless and incompetent youngest, but the other members believed he needed at least one Alpha under him for appearances’ sake.

‘But is there really a need to bring in another Alpha?’

That’s what Taehan thought, but it wasn’t a matter of need, but of feeling. He didn’t like the idea of having another Alpha under this roof. The image of the youngest sniffing the air a moment ago solidified his resolve.

“No. We’ll manage with these men for now. The urgent matters are over.”

Gwangwoo’s eyes held a hint of confusion at Taehan’s answer. The other men, who had been watching from a distance, also seemed perplexed. Still, something was wrong. Increasingly wrong.

“Everyone, rest.”

With the situation still unresolved, Taehan simply said that to his men, turned, and headed upstairs. He knew the source of all the problems. That child he had brought into this house. All this turmoil was because of him.

He was consumed by the thought of unleashing all these tangled emotions, whether as an outlet for his anger or something else, onto Dawon. He quickly climbed the stairs and stood in front of Dawon’s door. The fresh, yet sweet scent that reached his nose intensified his anger.

‘This reckless brat. What is he leaking?’

Taehan flung the door open and was momentarily taken aback when he didn’t see Dawon. Looking around the room, he saw him, unexpectedly asleep. For some reason, he was slumped over the table instead of the perfectly good bed.

The bandages he had carelessly removed were scattered around the table where he slept. The table itself was also covered in white.

‘What’s this? All this paper is…’