DOGC Ch 1

“Yes, I took a trip while using up my overdue vacation days.”

A low voice rumbled, vibrating through the car’s chassis. Yeonho stared at the front windshield with emotionless eyes and rubbed the single earphone he had in.

“I’ll be returning next week. I plan to rest at my family home for a few days before coming back up.”

The response from the person on the phone scattered in his ear without any real feeling. His manicured fingertips tapped on the leather steering wheel, as if to show his boredom. It would have been far more interesting to appreciate the scenery framed by the front windshield than to continue this tedious phone call.

“The Chairman is always in good health. I will pass on your regards.”

A neat and clean voice. But an indifferent temperature lingered at the end of each sentence.

A quiet, outlying area situated in the suburbs of Seoul. After passing the paved roads and crossing a path thick with greenery, one would reach the destination. The edge of the forest was gradually coming into view. It was a signpost heralding the end of a long drive that had begun at the airport.

“Then I will see you soon.”

The call ended with a dry pleasantry. Yeonho pulled the earphone from his ear, tossed it aside carelessly, and took in the sight of the mansion grounds that were just now revealing themselves.

A long, whitish, Western-style building flanked by a spacious garden.

Ryu Cheolho, the master of the house and Yeonho’s grandfather, lived his life by the words, ‘The old ways are the best,’ a motto he would cling to until the day the nails were hammered into his coffin.

Thanks to this, the mansion, built with the immense fortune he had amassed, still maintained the scenery of decades past even in this day and age where food could be delivered to one’s doorstep with a flick of a finger and continents could be crossed in an instant by boarding a plane. It was a decision made by his son, whose natural disposition was unruly but whose filial piety was profound.

If asked whether it was worth all that, well. Yeonho found this house ridiculous. To be more precise, everything this house symbolized, such as family, legacy, and tradition.

The mansion had a magnificent exterior, but an alien and grotesque atmosphere swirled around it. Looking at the moss-covered pond and the vines deliberately left to climb the walls for a long time, one could even feel as if time had stopped in the past for this place alone.

The building, standing stubbornly while turning its back on the fading years, seemed like the product of an old obsession. It pretended to be well-maintained, but in reality, it was nothing more than an excessively large antique.

—You have arrived at your destination. Ending guidance.

A stiff, mechanical voice flowed from the navigation system, its role fulfilled. Yeonho parked the car in the mansion’s backyard and threw open the driver’s side door.

After a few steps, the subtle scent of grass, quite different from the city, tickled the tip of his nose. The faint chirping of grasshoppers also kept time in his ears. He searched for the cigarette pack in his pocket and flicked the lid open with his thumb. The two or so cigarettes left rattled in the empty space.

This place was filled with nothing but nameless wild grasses and pebbles rolling on the ground. Unlike the lavishly decorated front gate, the corners that were not easily seen were quite desolate, making it a trivial space suitable only for a parking lot or a smoking area.

It was the moment Yeonho, his brow furrowed, lit the end of his cigarette and raised his head. The scenery reflected in his eyes was suddenly a little different than before.

In a corner of the rough backyard, a pure white flower, completely out of place, was fluttering its petals. Not only that, but it was also exuding a deep and sweet fragrance. Yeonho silently rolled his eyes and looked down at the flower placed unceremoniously on the ground.

It was a person. Though his huddled form was quite slender, it was probably a man.

Dressed in a white dress shirt, with skin as translucent as his clothes, he was crouching in a corner, staring blankly straight ahead. What he was gazing at so intently was impossible to know. Yeonho lightly flicked the end of his cigarette, from which murky smoke was wavering, and asked.

“Who are you?”

It was not a great distance, so the question must have been clearly delivered. However, no answer came back. The man, who seemed to have chosen to ignore the stranger instead of opening his mouth, simply lowered his gaze and blinked at the weed-covered ground.

“Can’t you hear me?”

“…”

“Or can you not speak.”

Even after a couple of prods, he remained stubbornly silent. His stubbornly lowered eyelashes were as lovely as the long pistils of a flower. The lips beneath them were reddish and glossy, without a single dry flake, resembling a ripe fruit.

His face is quite my type, he thought to himself as he let cigarette smoke drift from between his lips. The man did not even seem to care that a pungent smell had mixed into the air. Yeonho, who had been staring at the back of the man’s dark head, which was tilted at an angle, faintly frowned.

Along with his appearance, he could feel a scent wafting from him that subtly stimulated his nerves. A thick, fresh scent, both sweet and sharp enough to make his jaw muscles ache, was reminiscent of a pomegranate. Judging by the lukewarm heat that began to blossom in his stomach the moment he recognized it, this was not a fragrance created by perfume or the like.

A beautiful man sitting alone in the backyard exuding pheromones—whether he intended it or not, it was quite an appetizing combination. While wearing an aloof expression like a flower on a cliff, the atmosphere he held was as seductive as that of a prostitute.

That bizarre combination made the tip of his tongue itch. A beautiful man placed so unexpectedly in this isolated mansion must be his father’s lover, but he was of a slightly different sort than the ones his father had brought home until now. It wasn’t that he was playing hard to get or was unresponsive, but rather he gave the impression that he wasn’t ‘here’ at all.

His appetite was strangely piqued. In any other case, he would have just walked by, but with this one, he found himself wanting to strike up a conversation for no reason. He wanted to make him open his mouth. Purely out of interest.

Yeonho let out a short, hollow laugh and dropped the more than half-smoked cigarette onto the ground. As he crushed the cigarette butt with his foot, the man, who had kept his head down the entire time, slowly lifted it.

“You should manage your pheromones. Unless you plan on spreading your legs for just anyone.”

At the words, which were full of teasing intent, the man silently looked up at Yeonho.

Finally, their gazes intertwined in mid-air. The eyes they met brought to mind a gemstone with no impurities. At the same time, because no emotion could be felt in his gaze, it also reminded Yeonho of the glossy eyes of a cheap doll.

Yeonho narrowed his eyes and glanced at the gap in the man’s open collar. On the pale skin, as white as the shirt he wore, were scattered red bruises.

Looks like he’s been handled quite roughly. I guess the cheap doll eyes are a better fit after all.

“Do you have nothing better to do?”

Suddenly, a voice that was neither high nor low unexpectedly tickled his ear. The man who had been consistently indifferent had finally opened his mouth.

It was an unexpected response. Yeonho twisted the corner of his lips into a barely perceptible smile and retorted.

“Why?”

“You look like you don’t.”

“Are you going to do something for me?”

The leisurely sentence that followed cut through the space between the two of them.

“I thought you were in heat, from your scent.”

The man’s brow, which had been smooth, furrowed minutely. He turned his head in the opposite direction from Yeonho and took a deep breath. It was impossible to know whether what his fine lips had exhaled was a sigh or a curse.

Leaving Yeonho standing beside him, the man got up and tidied his clothes. His tone had been sharp, and it seemed his mood had soured. A sense of irritability was evident in the way he brushed off his backside.

Yeonho watched the retreating back without any lingering attachment, then pulled another cigarette from his pocket and put it to his lips.

Even now, the afterglow of the man’s pheromones lingered thickly around his nose. The image of his neat eyebrows furrowing fiercely and his eyes filling with hostility was vividly drawn in his mind.

Did he himself know that it stirred one’s lust more than when he was just sitting there like a doll?

As he smoked his cigarette with the man as his side dish, the butt quickly became short. Yeonho exhaled the acrid smoke and looked up at the towering exterior of the Western-style house. The last ember at the end of the last puff of the cigarette flickered weakly.

🦅

The scenery inside the house he entered was always the same.

The hallways were needlessly wide, and the chandelier hanging at the entrance, a result of stubbornly maintaining the old ways, was tacky. The dark brown wooden doors and the gloomily laid carpets also showed an artificial effort to create a classical feel.

Considering the manpower required to manage a mansion where so few people lived, it was nothing more than a pretty but useless thing.

There was only one reason Yeonho had entered the family home, even though he could have driven off immediately.

“Hyung.”

As he entered the drawing room, a neatly dressed boy slowly came down the stairs. For someone with such a shy voice, he immediately threw himself into Yeonho’s arms. Yeonho lightly patted the top of the boy’s head and said.

“Did you have fun while hyung was away?”

“Eung.”

“You’ve gotten a little taller.”

Ryu Yeonwoo. His half-brother who had just turned nine, and his only blood relative. The child’s mother had suffered from a mental illness and had died at an early age.

“Father is.”

“Dad?”

He could see the innocent, youthful face hardening slightly. It was only natural for him to be uncomfortable, as his father had never once acted as a proper father to Yeonwoo. Yeonwoo, his expression a little darker than before, answered.

“In the dining room… eating.”

“And you?”

“I ate snacks. I’m not hungry.”

There was no need to ask if he had truly skipped the meal because he was full. A child cannot hide the sincerity that appears on his face. A cool gaze swept over his crestfallen brother and then toward the dining room beyond the hallway.

“I told you not to skip meals.”

“I, I didn’t. I ate snacks, too.”

Yeonho silently looked down at his younger brother, his lips sealed. Yeonwoo, looking somewhat intimidated, stealthily avoided his gaze.

“I’ll go say hello. I told them to put a suitcase in your room, so go open it.”

“Is it a present?”

“Yeah, do you like it?”

Instead of an answer, Yeonwoo expressed his joy by hugging his older brother tightly. The reaction made buying a toy for Yeonwoo, even while busy, worthwhile. Yeonho gently pushed his brother away and walked toward the hallway to the right of the drawing room.

The only advantage the mansion had was its many windows. The sunlight shining through the glass was reasonably warm. It seemed the gloomy atmosphere pervading the house was neutralized by the nice weather.

As he reached the end of the hallway, he saw a servant standing in front of the double doors, which were adorned with ornate decorations. He had been standing with his head bowed, but he spotted Yeonho and gave a gentle smile.

“You’ve arrived. How was your trip?”

“Is Father inside?”

“Yes. Shall I prepare a meal for you?”

“Just a simple coffee.”

In this day and age, to make a household employee wear a full suit so strictly. Yeonho dryly scanned the servant’s attire and opened the dining room door.

Under a light fixture from which precious jewels hung in clusters, his elderly father was dining alone. Dressed smartly, he was meticulously picking meat off a roasted chicken leg with a fork.

His father was a light eater, as befitting his senile body. A chicken bone, with most of the flesh still attached, lay discarded on his plate. Without even glancing at his son, he gnawed on the seared chicken skin and said.

“You’re here.”

“Yes.”

Yeonho replied curtly and sat down opposite his father. A servant who came in just then placed a cup of coffee with white steam rising from it on the table and left.

Despite sharing the same space, conversation between the two was scarce. Only the sound of chewing meat and the clatter of silverware filled the dining room, which exuded a refined atmosphere. Yeonho gazed at his father, who seemed to have not the slightest interest in him, then raised his cup to wet his throat.

“I thought you would go to Seoul.”

“Yeonwoo is here too, and I took a long vacation after my project ended.”

“What project.”

As if he would understand even if I told him.

Taehwa Construction, founded by his grandfather, had faltered and started on a path of decline under his incompetent father. It was Yeonho who had toiled for several years after joining the management to put it back on track. Cleaning up after old men who did nothing but collect high salaries while being obsolete was a very tiring job.

Once the company had stabilized to some extent, his father, as if he had been waiting, declared himself an honorary chairman and stepped back from the front lines. He then spent his time playing golf, enjoying entertainment, and spending money in various ways.

This house, the company, and his father were all empty husks held together by stubbornness. Yeonho stroked the rim of his coffee cup and brought up a new topic.

“I saw someone sitting in the backyard earlier, a pale Omega.”

“…”

“Did you bring him here, Father?”

At those words, his father, who had been engrossed in his meal, lifted his head and glared at Yeonho. A sharp reply, fully revealing his frayed nerves, soon followed.

“That’s none of your business.”

It was a reaction that exposed his inner thoughts more nakedly than any sentence could. Yeonho looked down at his father, whose eye level was slightly lower, and let out a barely perceptible, scornful laugh.

This man, despite being old, was so faithful to his lust that he would bring people into the house like this. The treatment seemed decent for a male prostitute, so Yeonho assumed his father treated them as something like concubines. The sight of him fooling around with men much younger than his own son wasn’t even funny.

First of all, it was doubtful whether the wrinkled thing in his crotch could even get hard.

“You’re really healthy, Father. To a sickening degree.”

His appetite completely vanished. Yeonho quietly put down the coffee cup he was holding. His father, reading the blatant mockery in his son’s words, twitched an eyebrow.

“This bastard, that mouth of yours again…”

There seemed to be nothing more to discuss. Yeonho stood up from his seat, leaving his father with an enraged expression behind him.

“I’ve shown my face, so I’ll be going up first.”

So that thing in the backyard was indeed his father’s new concubine. It seemed that while father and son were nothing alike, their tastes were similar. He was disturbingly beautiful, and even his silent demeanor had a way of drawing people in. Why did he have to be his father’s?

He hadn’t felt any interest in the few others his father had brought home before, but perhaps this time, his father’s mature eye for beauty had truly shone.

“I see Madam Jeong managed to bring in something decent for once.”

“How long do you plan to run that mouth of yours like that?”

“I’m hurt. I meant it in a good way.”

Contrary to his leisurely tone, there was not a trace of a smile on Yeonho’s lips.

“Don’t get too worked up, you’ll get erectile dysfunction.”

After scratching his father’s insides one last time, he left the dining room completely.

Clang—.

A sharp, shattering sound of silverware being thrown echoed across the table where only the middle-aged man remained alone.

🦅

Summer, the season of deep green foliage.

During this time of year, the scenery created by the mansion was not too bad. Yeonho briefly put down the tablet PC he was holding and looked out the window. A large tree standing in the yard was shaking its leaves in the wind.

The cigarette held between his fingers slowly burned. His healthy-looking lips held the filter for a moment before letting it go. The smoke that couldn’t be expelled through the open window drifted lazily around the room.

Knock, knock—.

Just as he was about halfway through his cigarette, a sudden knock came at the door. And then Yeonwoo appeared, holding a sketchbook in his hand.

“Hyung, what are you doing?”

He seemed startled by the murky smoke, taking a slight step back. Yeonho gazed languidly at his younger brother, who didn’t seem accustomed to the smell of cigarettes.

“You’re here?”

“Eung, what are you doing?”

“Just.”

He roughly stubbed out the cigarette butt on the wooden desk, and the embers died with a hiss. Only after he flicked the extinguished cigarette out the window did Yeonwoo hesitantly approach.

“Why are you working when you’re on vacation?”

“Right.”

Yeonho rubbed the screen of the powered-off tablet PC with his thumb, then added briefly.

“Must be nice to be on school break.”

“Not really. It’s boring.”

It was bound to be boring if all he did was draw trees on paper day in and day out. Yeonho, who had been looking down at the sketchbook cover, shifted his gaze toward the window and said.

“Wanna go out?”

“Outside?”

“I’ll catch a grasshopper for you.”

“Why would you catch that? It’s scary.”

To his younger brother, who was furrowing his brow and mumbling, Yeonho replied in a leisurely voice.

“It’s kind of cute, the way it bobs its butt.”

Though hesitant, the suggestion of an outing was not unwelcome, as Yeonwoo put down his sketchbook and nodded his head. His small hands, patting his clothes into place, were quite deft.

“Instead of a grasshopper, can you catch a ladybug for me?”

“Why?”

“Eung, because it’s pretty. I like pretty things.”

His father, his eldest son Ryu Yeonho, and his second son Ryu Yeonwoo all had an eye for pretty things. It was likely that aesthetic taste also ran in their blood. Leaving the room with his younger brother, Yeonho thought about the ‘pretty thing’ he had discovered a few days ago.

I wonder if he’s in the backyard today. Come to think of it, he had never once met him inside the house. The way he didn’t blend into the scenery but stood apart like a shard of glass came to mind in fragments. Perhaps he was cooped up in a room on his father’s orders, since delicious food is best eaten alone.

What a greedy old man, anyway.

That remark seemed directed at his father, and at the same time, it felt like something he was saying to himself. Yeonho let out a dry, brittle laugh and passed through the hallway.

As they stepped out of the mansion, the summer air, tinged with the scent of grass, clung clammily to the tip of his nose. The day was surprisingly hot. Yeonwoo, standing one step behind, naturally took his brother’s hand.

“Hyung, do you know where ladybugs live?”

“I’ll have to see to know.”

“Since it’s hot, maybe they went for a swim?”

Does he want to go to the water’s edge? There was definitely a reasonably large lake near the mansion. However, his young brother had likely never even been near it for fear of danger. Come to think of it, hadn’t there been a few precedents of people falling in and being pulled out as corpses?

“You want to go see the lake?”

When he asked directly without beating around the bush, the boy nodded obediently. Yeonho swept his thumb over the back of his brother’s soft hand and said.

“Alright, then.”

“Woah…!”

Chirp, chirp.

The loud chirping of cicadas followed their every step. They say they sing their hearts out for a month to reproduce before they die. A dry thought remained that they, like insects, possessed a tenacity for their primal instincts.

What’s this, what’s that. As he walked, giving vague answers to his curious younger brother, the fishy smell of water soon wafted through the air. While Yeonwoo’s attention was stolen by the wild grass along the path, Yeonho lifted his head and looked out at the lakeside.

It was then that a familiar figure came into view.

“Ah.”

Again. It was a strange coincidence.

As if only the background had been changed from their previous encounter in the backyard, the man was now standing on a wooden pier by the lake. His attire was similar to a few days ago. A white dress shirt and black shorts that revealed his knees.

I couldn’t help but wonder what it was about that pathetic old man’s taste that suited him so well. Without realizing it, Yeonho’s eyes swept over the small face, the slender nape, and the pale, thin legs in turn.

The man didn’t seem to notice that someone was watching him. He simply dropped his gaze into the dark blue water and bobbed his heels. From a spectator’s point of view, it was impossible to know what he was trying to do.

“Hyung, what are you looking at?”

A voice full of curiosity came from beside him, but he couldn’t answer. Yeonho stared, mesmerized, as the man’s chest heaved deeply.

And then, in that fleeting moment, he spotted the dark bruises on his exposed legs.

Splash—.

A loud spray of water erupted on the surface, and at the same time, the man disappeared from view. Startled by the sudden loud noise, Yeonwoo turned his head toward the lakeside.

“Was that a fish? A really big fish swimming?”

“No.”

He hadn’t slipped, nor had anyone pushed him, so it was correct to assume he had jumped in of his own accord.

His aura was not ordinary from the start, but to think he would pull a stunt like this, what a load of bullshit. A deflated laugh escaped Yeonho’s lips as he said.

“Wait here for a second.”

“I, I want to see the fish too…”

“Alright. I’ll go catch a fish for you.”

With an indifferent expression, Yeonho crossed the old wooden pier. He stopped in front of the rippling lake and crouched down, resting his hands on his knees.

The surface of the water he looked down at was calm, as if nothing had happened. Occasionally, small air bubbles rising to the top caught his eye.

I can’t very well show a corpse to my young brother and call it a fish, what a ridiculous situation. Yeonho silently watched the lake, where green algae and fallen tree bark floated.

He had thrown himself into the lake, so judging by the situation alone, it was a suicide attempt. Does he have some kind of mental illness? His face is decent enough, but it seems Madam Jeong sold some defective goods.

After waiting for a while, the green surface of the water rippled faintly. Following that, a head of hair like black seaweed emerged with a sputtering sound. The water droplets the man created as he struggled splashed everywhere like shrapnel.

“Ha, agh, keck, ugh.”

The sight of him flailing his arms and legs desperately after jumping in to die was absurd. His slender fingertips fumbled desperately at the air as if asking for help. His lips, which had likely swallowed a great deal of water, were pale blue and repeatedly opened and closed.

What the hell is he trying to do, that one.

Yeonho furrowed his brow and tilted his head. Wasn’t he planning to die? Then why is he struggling so desperately? He stared at the man being swallowed by the current and let out a short, hollow laugh. However, behind the faint laugh, a somehow uncomfortable feeling lingered.

The water droplets that had been splashing violently at first gradually subsided, and the movement of his limbs slowed. The hands that had been flailing were now sinking powerlessly.

Suddenly, the thought that he might actually die like this crossed his mind. Yeonho instinctively put strength into his heels. His body hadn’t moved yet, but it was clear that tension was building.

On the water where movement had ceased, a body was being swept away. A beautiful face, whose name he didn’t even know, was about to disappear beneath the water. He felt something dry up inside him.

Soon, Yeonho’s outstretched hand roughly grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck. The body, soaked and limp from the water, was pulled out with surprising ease.

His clothes, his hair, everything was soaked in a disgraceful mess as the man fell against Yeonho’s chest. Because of this, his own clothes became damp as well, and his brow furrowed slightly.

“What do you think you’re doing? Trying to make someone clean up your corpse?”

“Haa, ugh, ugh.”

“If you’re going to die, you should at least pick the place.”

The man, his eyes squeezed shut, vomited the water that had collected inside him several times.

“Ugh, heu, cough.”

He was a mess, dribbling water and coughing. His shoulders, clearly visible through his wet clothes, were trembling. For a short while, he panted pitifully, catching his breath, before letting out a voice mixed with a hoarse rasp.

“Why, haa, always…”

“What?”

“From the first time I saw you, why do you always, speak so informally.”

What came back was not a word of thanks, but a random criticism. The way he tried to raise his hackles in this situation, his eyes narrowed like a flounder’s, was utterly pathetic.

“Is that what you say to the person who saved you?”

“Hoo, I never, asked, you to save me.”

Even as he said that, the man continued to tremble, as if the threat to his life had been quite terrifying. He could barely even sit up on his own, his efforts focused on steadying his ragged breathing, yet he still tried hard not to lean on him.

Through the thin fabric of his clothes, the pounding of his rapidly beating heart was transmitted. For someone who looked so cold, his body temperature was quite warm.

“If you were going to die, should I put you back in?”

Yeonho glanced at the man’s tightly clenched fists and bitten lip in turn. The lips, which had been panting from exhaustion, had regained some of their color and were now reddish. And as his gaze lowered, the nipples visible through the white dress shirt were also, quite.

“Hyung!”

Suddenly, a child’s voice cut through the silence. The sight of Yeonwoo, his face surprised, running from a distance, came into view. Yeonho looked at his wide-eyed younger brother, then discreetly brought his lips to the man’s ear.

“Your nipples are showing.”

Yeonwoo was young, and it wouldn’t be a problem if he saw a little something, but Yeonho provoked him anyway for no reason. Just as he expected, the man who heard the whisper shot his head up. His earlobes, flushed with shame, further fanned the flames of his chaotic emotions. He struggled to pull his body away, but Yeonho forcefully tightened his embrace, pressing the prominent nipples firmly against his own chest.

“Why don’t you stay still, what are you trying to do by rubbing that all over me.”

“…You crazy bastard.”

The man now spat out curses openly. He didn’t seem to do so with his father, and the raw profanity was more amusing than offensive. He didn’t have any particularly masochistic sexual preferences, but this contemptuous tone of voice was unusually intriguing. The pheromones that smelled of fresh fruit, the red, glossy lips, and the skin that flushed when he heard lewd talk, despite being a male prostitute, all gently whetted his appetite. In many ways, it was a body too good to be received only by an old, withered man.

Perhaps because he was exhausted from his near-death experience, the man closed his eyes after that short curse. His slender limbs went limp and drooped. Now that he looked, he was tightly clenching something in his hand.

Yeonho stared intently at the man’s clenched fist, then gathered the unconscious man into his arms and walked toward his worried-looking younger brother.

🦅

The memory of that day when it rained cats and dogs came to Seorim without fail whenever he went to bed.

A slightly damp funeral parlor in the summer, with a lukewarm warmth rising from the floorboards.

In his dreams, Seorim was always crouching in a corner, dressed in black mourning clothes. Facing the portrait of a woman smiling brightly like the sun, and the smoke rising forlornly from the burning incense. The voices of people whispering amongst themselves and the pungent smell of incense always enveloped his consciousness with a terribly vivid clarity.

The cause of death was said to be a traffic accident.

The car, driving on a winding country road, had crashed into an old guardrail, and the rusted iron plate had not been able to withstand the force of the car. The car carrying his mother had fallen straight off the cliff, they said.

From the moment he heard the tragic news over the phone to the moment he arrived at the hospital and confirmed his mother’s form covered by a white cloth, Seorim could not grasp the reality of their parting.

His mother was a kind person. Though they were so poor they had next to nothing, she always smiled with her eyes curved like a crescent moon. No matter how rotten she might have been on the inside, she never lost her smile on the outside.

‘He’s still so young, what a pity.’

‘Oh dear… Gosh, how could she have gone so suddenly like this.’

‘I heard there were some problems at home.’

The guests, who it was unclear whether they had come to offer condolences or to gossip, chattered about his mother’s affairs without even caring that Seorim was sitting right in front of them. With every opening of their mouths, the cause of death changed, from suicide to accidental death.

The mother Seorim knew was not someone who would turn her back on the world herself. There was no way she would leave him all alone in this cold place. Just before the accident, she had even sent him an excited text message saying she would make the spinach he liked for dinner.

However, that belief faded with time. Perhaps there was something he didn’t know that had been eating away at his mother’s heart, and if so, he could not forgive himself for only leaning on her and not being a source of strength. Even though he was her only family.

In fact, to use the expression ‘only’ was a bit of a misnomer. Of course, his mother could not have made a child on her own, so Seorim had a father. But his father, who had disappeared when he was young and whose whereabouts were unknown, did not even show his face at the funeral.

He did not know the reason for his father’s disappearance. Even at a tender age, he had noticed that a dark shadow would fall over his mother’s face whenever the topic was brought up. Thus, asking about his father became an unspoken taboo in the family.

Whatever happened, isn’t it too much to not even show up on a day like this?

Though faint memories remained, he had no affection for his father, so Seorim let out a sigh filled only with human disappointment. His mind was so dazed that he couldn’t even feel anger. It felt as if he was personally experiencing the process of his heart becoming so weary that it fell into sleep.

‘Excuse me, student. We need to talk about the leftover food.’

Suddenly, a funeral home assistant spoke to him, and Seorim stood up from his seat. As she walked toward the pile of food set up in the corner, she continued cautiously.

‘You can’t eat it all by yourself, so you should give some to your relatives, yes, and the guests. I’ll pack it in plastic bags for you.’

‘…’

‘The child is completely out of it, what should we do. My… He’s like my own son, my heart, really.’

The consolation, which seemed to genuinely pity the young chief mourner’s situation, scattered into the air. Seorim silently nodded, his lips sealed. The sight of the assistant packing food into a transparent plastic bag looked like a scene from a movie projected on a screen. That was how unreal this situation felt.

‘You have to eat something and get a hold of yourself, okay? You’re so skinny.’

He didn’t feel hungry. The same went for thirst or sleepiness. If he bumped into something, he probably wouldn’t even feel pain. His body and consciousness, having lost their function, seemed to be struggling just to exist.

Seorim, his shoulders slumped like a puppet with its strings cut, watched the assistant before turning away.

His unfocused eyes scanned the floor of the funeral parlor. The cushion he had been sitting on had disappeared in the short time he was gone.

As he lifted his head, which had been buried in search of the cushion, Seorim noticed a group of strangers entering the incense-burning room.

There were about three or four of them, all men, dressed in black suits. The funeral was now only a day away from the final procession, so he thought there would be no more mourners. Are they distant relatives who came up from the countryside?

The man at the front of the group slowly placed an incense stick and bowed. Seorim watched with a blank expression as the men paid their respects one by one, starting with him.

Where did the cushion go?

Who those people were was not particularly important, so Seorim rolled his eyes, searching for the missing cushion.

Until one of them spoke to him.

‘The little fella is having a hard time being the chief mourner.’

The guest with a gold cap on his front tooth grinned, showing his teeth. Seorim stared silently at the hand he held out. The other party didn’t seem to care whether a reply came or not and continued speaking.

‘You’re Baek Hongsik’s son, right?’

At the suddenly mentioned name, Seorim, who had been looking down, lifted his eyes. It seemed they knew his father. Among the mourners, they were the first acquaintances from his father’s side.

Seeing his apparent reaction, the guest wiggled his outstretched hand once. It seemed he was urging him to take it quickly. Seorim, without letting go of his wary gaze, lightly touched his own hand to the thick palm.

‘Such a delicate hand.’

‘…’

‘Your name is, let’s see, is it Baek Seorim?’

He knew who he was.

Of course, one could find out his name by looking at the funeral home’s electronic display. However, judging by the guest’s attitude, it felt like he had known before coming here. The aura he exuded was also unusual.

A dirty smell and a lingering, unsettling energy. His senses were dull, so he wasn’t sure, but this man possessed a pheromone that oppressed others.

‘Well, well, you’re an Omega.’

The guest said slyly, as if he had felt a similar stimulus. Beads of sweat formed on the skin he held. He hesitated, trying to pull his hand away, but the man seemed to have no intention of letting go easily and instead tightened his grip on his knuckles.

‘It’s nothin’ else, we have a bit of a connection with yer dad. I went through a lot of trouble, I tell ya.’

‘My father, you say?’

‘That’s why I know yer mother well too. Seein’ her go like this, it just breaks my heart.’

He said he knew my mother too. Seorim wet his dry lips with his tongue. The guest, seeing the pink flesh moisten his lower lip, said leisurely.

‘Our Baek Seorim is lucky, he takes after his mom a lot.’

His languidly opened eyes, and the strange light hidden within them, scanned Seorim from head to toe. An unpleasant shiver ran down his spine where the gaze passed.

‘So how old would he be this year, this one.’

For a boy, he’s disgustingly pretty. The guest’s short added comment floated in the air. I’m twenty, the answer could not easily leave his lips. A creeping sense of unease made Seorim fumble at his neck with his free hand. The necklace his mother had given him tickled his fingers.

‘The history I have with yer dad is so deep…’

As the frozen Seorim did not part his lips, the man smiled, looking like a good person. And the words that followed,

‘Let’s talk about it slowly from now on.’

were the entrance to an abyss.

🦅

“Hh, ugh.”

Exhaling a groan that caught in his throat, Seorim’s closed eyes flew open. The first emotion he felt upon waking was anxiety. The cold sweat on his forehead and the dampness flowing down the hollow of his back seemed to speak of his body’s tense state.

It had been years, but whenever he had this dream, the symptoms worsened. It felt like someone was pulling out his consciousness, putting it in a narrow container, and shaking it violently.

A wave of nausea washed over him. His wildly beating heart caused his fingertips to tremble as well. He didn’t know the cause or how to resolve it, so he could only endure the sensation of a knot tightening in his chest, being swayed by anxiety.

It seemed impossible to calm down like this, so Seorim sat up compulsively. The sheet, scratched by his well-manicured nails, made an unpleasant, creaking sound.

The afternoon sunlight filtering through the window brought with it a quietness, along with sparkling dust motes. It felt like he had slept for a very long time, but seeing that it was still light out, it seemed he hadn’t slept that deeply. In the silence that filled the room, Seorim barely managed to calm his ragged breath.

What happened just before this?

Along with a faint headache, the events he had experienced before falling asleep came back to him in fragments. His anxiety had been severe, so he had gone outside without any plan, and while walking aimlessly, he had found the lake. While he was staring at it blankly, an unexpected accident had occurred.

The string of the necklace hanging quietly around his neck had snapped. It was the only meaningful object for Seorim, who had nothing to begin with, let alone anything precious.

That was why he had jumped into the water without a second thought. His body had moved on its own before he could make any judgment. In his twenty-two years of life, he had never learned to swim, and thus, the result of that impulsive action was.

‘What do you think you’re doing? Trying to make someone clean up your corpse?’

The image of the man who had been shamelessly teasing him from the moment they first met came to mind.

‘Your nipples are showing.’

His head throbbed. It was the moment Seorim swept back his sweat-soaked bangs with a low sigh.

Click—.

The firmly closed wooden door suddenly opened with a short, rasping sound.

“Oh, oh.”

What came into view was a young boy. He looked to be in elementary school, his eyes wide with surprise, looking quite young.

“He’s awake.”

Following the dazed exclamation, a high-pitched voice that had not yet gone through puberty was heard. Seorim slowly lowered the hand that was on his forehead and glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to have seen him a few times coming and going from the mansion. Since he had only been here for a short time, he didn’t know exactly who he was.

Unlike his bold entrance, the boy hesitated to approach and lingered in the doorway. However, his eyes, looking at Seorim, were filled with unconcealed curiosity.

He had no way of knowing what the boy wanted to do. As he silently faced him, the boy’s cheeks, red as apples, twitched. And he began to take small, careful steps.

It wasn’t a large room, so it didn’t take long for the distance to close. The boy, standing next to Seorim, fiddled with the hem of his clothes awkwardly before mumbling.

“Hyung-ah… are you hurt?”

“What?”

“Hyung-ah fell in the water, and you kept sleeping.”

How did he know I fell in the water, was he there? It was utterly bewildering to have an unknown child suddenly visit and worry about his well-being. Seorim answered with a dazed expression.

“I’m okay.”

“Really? Your head doesn’t hurt, and your stomach doesn’t hurt either?”

“Yeah.”

“Hyung-ah, you slept all day.”

“What’s the date today?”

Seorim hurriedly looked for a clock. A day had passed. It seemed the chairman had not been looking for him.

The boy, who had been asking questions with a serious expression, his brow furrowed, let out a sigh of relief.

“My hyung said you have to help people who are sick.”

“Hyung?”

“Eung.”

Who is this hyung?

“My hyung carried you out of the water. Because hyung-ah was sick.”

If he said he carried me out of the water. When his thoughts reached that point, he could vaguely guess who the hyung the boy was talking about was. He must be talking about that shameless benefactor. How did he know my room and bring me here to lay me down?

Seorim pressed gently on his chest, where it had touched his body, and glanced at the boy. The age difference seemed too significant for them to be brothers.

“Isn’t he your uncle?”

“No! He’s my hyung, Ryu Yeonho. I’m Ryu Yeonwoo.”

As if to prove they were real brothers, the boy passionately gave their similar names. Ryu Yeonho or whatever, just thinking about him is unpleasant. He didn’t seem like the type of person to be so enthusiastically praised, but he supposed he was nice to his younger brother.

He felt like a chick had entered his complicated mind and was running around in all directions. When Seorim fell silent, the boy suddenly thrust his face forward.

“Hyung-ah smells nice.”

His chubby cheeks were even redder than before. His face felt hot from the boy sticking so close to him, his eyes sparkling.

I haven’t even washed and I must have sweat a lot, what nice smell. Seorim averted his gaze awkwardly.

Regardless, the boy, who had smiled to himself, asked.

“Can I come and play again?”

He didn’t remember playing so much as just unilaterally answering questions.

“I’ll feed you, and read to you, and draw for you, I’ll do all that?”

“Why?”

“Because hyung-ah is sick. You have to help sick people.”

The boy moved his grinning, relaxed lips and added one last word.

“And hyung-ah is pretty.”

Is he asking me to play along with some kind of doctor game? Or maybe, in that child’s eyes, I just look like a bird with a broken leg.

His shoulder blades throbbed and a dull pain pulsed in his head. Seorim, pressing a hand to his forehead, reluctantly answered.

“I get it, so… go.”

“Okay, hyung-ah, rest well!”

Fortunately, no further questions followed this time. As he sensed the child turning, Seorim wriggled into the thick covers. As his vision was enveloped in darkness, sleepiness astonishingly and quickly found his consciousness.

🦅

He had certainly answered that way. However, he had not said it with the intention of reuniting so quickly. He had said he understood when the boy said he would come again, but… Seorim looked at Yeonwoo, who was sitting beside him scribbling with colored pencils, with a troubled heart.

The small, uninvited guest had entered the room at exactly ten in the morning the next day. To think he would put his words of visiting again into action in less than twenty-four hours. Seorim, who had been quietly suffering with a body that had not yet fully recovered, had to welcome the unexpected guest. The child’s capacity for action was astonishing.

The sight of a child playing in the gloomy mansion, like the gaping maw of a snake, was so incongruous. It was like watching a puppy running around in a storm.

When you get down to it, is this a place where people live too?

Seorim thought of Chairman Ryu, who was more like an old beast than a person, and fiddled with the blanket. A few days ago, he had been held by him, and the dull pain in his calf, which was bruised a dark blue, had not yet subsided. If he hadn’t pulled his leg away quickly, it might have been broken.

He would have to see more to know if his tastes were sadistic or if he was just a psycho. He just wanted to get by comfortably by playing along moderately. Having only been in this mansion for a short time, the air itself felt unfamiliar. The people were silent, and the gazes that occasionally passed by were strangely closer to ‘watching’. In many ways, it was an unpleasant space.

“Hyung.”

Yeonwoo, who had been silently bowing his head at the bedside, opened his mouth. When Seorim turned his gaze, he held out a sketchbook with an unidentifiable object drawn on it.

“It’s a present. A tree.”

“A tree?”

“Uh-huh, a maple tree.”

Isn’t it too much the middle of summer to be drawing a maple tree? It doesn’t even look like a tree in the first place. Seorim, watching the boy tear a page from the sketchbook, answered.

“You don’t have to draw me a picture.”

“No, I have to.”

The paper was torn out, and a new blank sheet was held in Yeonwoo’s hand. He continued speaking as he scribbled on the paper with a colored pencil held tightly in his small hand.

“My mom was sick too. I was supposed to take care of her, but I was scared so I couldn’t.”

Is he projecting his mother onto me and acting this way? With a somewhat complicated heart, Seorim gnawed on his lip with his upper teeth.

In the meantime, another strange combination of lines began to be born from Yeonwoo’s fingertips. This time too, it was far from a tree, and it was hard to see it as any living thing that existed in the world. Unable to watch any longer, Seorim looked at the sketchbook and said.

“A tree doesn’t look like that.”

“Huh?”

“Give it to me.”

Yeonwoo, with bewildered eyes, placed the colored pencil in Seorim’s palm. Seorim, who took the colored pencil, nonchalantly drew a few lines on the sketchbook. In no time, a tree with a decent appearance was completed.

“Woah, hyung. You draw trees well.”

“I don’t draw well, it’s just…”

“Draw something else for me. A car, and a flower.”

He drew one thing, and the demands increased. Seorim, with a displeased expression, roughly drew a flower next to the tree. He didn’t have the dedication to change the color, so it was a light green flower, the same as the leaves.

“A car, a car.”

He felt he shouldn’t have drawn it in the first place, as he would be endlessly pestered if this continued. It was when Seorim was 괜히 staring at the colored pencils rolling around on the bedside table.

Knock, knock, a short knock echoed in the bedroom.

Though there was no answer from inside, the door opened on its own shortly after. Who could it be? Chairman Ryu never visits during the day.

Seorim’s eyes changed as he confirmed the face of the person who opened the door. It was a person he could hardly greet with a calm expression. It was the man who was said to be the child’s brother, not his uncle.

Having turned the other person into a thorny cactus, the unwelcome guest was, unlike himself, very relaxed. Beneath his moderately styled hair, eyes holding a bewitching light scanned the area around the bed. Seorim, feeling the gaze, kept his lips firmly shut and stared at a random spot in the air.

Perhaps because his legs were much longer than others, the man approached quickly. Because of his approach, the faint smell of cigarettes also lingered around his nose. It was not intentional, but his field of vision was filled with a broad chest slightly revealed above a black half-turtleneck.

Seeing that chest brought back uncomfortable memories of the day he fell into the water. Something about someone’s nipples and what not. The one who bought him was the owner of this house, not him, but his attitude of shamelessly teasing him every time they met was irritating.

“You know how to draw too?”

“…”

“How elegant.”

Judging by his sarcastic tone, that man seemed to know for what reason he was staying in this house. Unaware of Seorim’s inner thoughts, Yeonwoo’s face lit up at the man.

“Hyung!”

“Why are you playing here?”

“Because hyung-ah is sick, so I’m taking care of him.”

“Yes, you’re a good boy.”

Ryu Yeonho. He had definitely said his brother’s name was that yesterday. It was the moment he was thinking that even the name felt a little unlucky.

Suddenly, the sensation of something unexpectedly touching his skin spread.

“No fever.”

Yeonho, who had placed the back of his hand on Seorim’s cheek, muttered. It was a calm tone, as if sharing a touch between close people, making it utterly absurd. Seorim, unable to hold back, irritably slapped his hand away.

Slap, with a sharp sound of friction, the other person’s body heat fell away. Yeonho looked at his hand hanging in the air and then slightly raised the corners of his lips.

“I saved you and even took care of you, yet you hit me.”

And then he bent down and whispered, loud enough only for Seorim to hear.

“Try to kill that temper of yours. Do you act like this to Father too?”

Father… are they really Chairman Ryu’s children? He didn’t know Chairman Ryu had children with such an age gap. For the chairman’s son to say such things to Seorim was clearly intended to humiliate him. Seorim tried his best to maintain his silence and glared at Yeonho. Even while receiving the stinging gaze, the unwelcome guest kept a relaxed smile on his face.

“Don’t fight. Hyu, hyung-ah is sick.”

Yeonwoo, who had been watching the two, let out a timid voice. His large eyes darted around, clearly flustered by the sharp tone.

“It’s okay, were you scared?”

Yeonho turned his body and lightly patted his younger brother’s head, then asked Seorim.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“What’s it to you.”

“You look like you’re going to be sick for a few days, but you seem healthier than I thought.”

It seemed he couldn’t open his mouth without picking a fight with someone. Seorim completely turned his head to the opposite side, but Yeonho continued speaking in an unconcerned tone.

“Play with him for a bit and then send him away. You’re a bit harmful to a child, you know.”

Now he was getting stubborn and didn’t want to reply. In this life, wandering from place to place, he often encountered people with that kind of attitude. He was first dragged to an omega brothel by a man who came to the funeral claiming to have a connection with his father and mother. After wandering there for a few years, he caught Chairman Ryu’s eye and came here.

In the process, Seorim had experienced countless people like that man, who looked down on him but were also interested in him. He knew that the best course of action was to smooth things over with a smile or to completely ignore them, but he kept getting sharp.

However, as he listened, a slight sense of injustice also welled up. He had never once asked the child to come and play. What was he supposed to do when he came barging in on his own?

While Seorim was wrestling with his surging anger alone, the problematic unwelcome guest left the room as freely as he had entered. As the sound of the door closing with a dull thud was heard, a momentary silence fell over the bedroom.

“But hyung-ah, you know.”

It was Yeonwoo who broke the silence. He blinked his large eyes and asked.

“Why did you fall in the water?”

The truth was that he had gone in on his own, not fallen, but it was natural that this child didn’t know that. Seorim answered nonchalantly.

“I lost something. I was trying to find it.”

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah.”

Answering the question calmly, he naturally fumbled at his neck. However, the sensation that should have been there was not transmitted. Seorim, who was blankly fiddling with his empty skin, let out a low groan.

Ah.

Have I lost my mind? It would be stranger for the necklace with a broken string to be around my neck.

He had a faint memory of snatching the necklace in the water. He had held it tightly in his hand until the moment he lost consciousness. That man must have brought him to this room, so if he hadn’t dropped it on the way, it should be in this room. Seorim immediately turned his gaze and scanned the nearby bedside table.

Sketchbook, colored pencils. The necklace was nowhere to be found.

Anxiety, spreading like the roots of a coarse tree, suddenly tightened its grip on his neck. Accordingly, his breathing became rapid. Forgetting his unwell state, Seorim shot up from his seat.

“Did you happen to see a necklace here?”

“A necklace?”

He had hoped Yeonwoo might have seen it while putting down the sketchbook, but he seemed completely unaware of it. His heart became urgent. His trembling pupils frantically scanned the blanket, under the bed, and the floor of the room. Unfortunately, the object he was looking for did not come into view.

Where had it rolled off to, or had he dropped it while unconscious? In an instant, his mind was filled with the thought of having to find the necklace. Lifting the neatly placed pillow, Seorim opened his mouth.

“Now go to that pervert, whether he’s your brother or uncle.”

“Huh? Pervert is a bad word…”

“Who said so?”

“Hyung.”

The crazy bastard should live his own life properly, but he’s taught the kid one thing right. In the midst of his confusion, Seorim quietly accumulated his resentment toward Ryu Yeonho. Yeonwoo, who was mumbling at the order to leave, obediently hugged the sketchbook and colored pencils to his chest.

“Eung, hyung-ah. I’ll come again.”

He had no leisure to answer leisurely. As soon as the child left the room with small steps, Seorim lay flat on the floor. His fine fingers repeatedly fumbled under the bed. Even if what his fingertips touched was only rolling dust, he continued, obsessively.

🦅

He searched the entire bedroom.

He scratched the floor until his fingernails wore down, and stretched his arms until his shirt was soaked with sweat. In vain, not even a shadow of the necklace could be seen.

When he concluded that he had not lost the necklace in the room, he went outside. He had kept his head down the whole time while searching the hallways, so a sharp pain arose in his neck. Why didn’t I check sooner? he repeated to himself over and over again.

By the time he came outside after searching the needlessly large mansion, the surroundings were already dark. Finding a necklace on the barely visible dirt ground was as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack. The darkness that settled on his shoulders seemed to be telling him to give up now.

After crouching in the yard and swinging his arms for the twentieth time, Seorim finally admitted that it was absolutely impossible to find the necklace today. Even if he swallowed, he was constantly thirsty, and his lips were parched. His vision wavered like a heat haze.

Exhausted from rummaging through the large mansion, he limped back to his room, and his knees gave out. The sweat-soaked shirt clung unpleasantly to his skin.

Seorim, who had barely managed to collapse onto the bed, gasped for breath. His dazed eyes wandered to the window where the moonlight was seeping in.

A cruel night, it was time to abandon himself to fulfill his duty in this house.

He couldn’t just lie there in a mess, but his body wouldn’t move at all. It seemed his energy had been completely depleted from overexerting himself in his already unwell state. Seorim bit his lip hard and then, out of frustration, tore at his hair.

Where on earth is it?

He couldn’t give up. That necklace was almost a part of his body. It was always with him, even in the moments when he was thrown into the mire and crawling on the floor. Because when he wore it, it felt as if, as if his mother was holding his hand. Though it was an object made of cold metal, Seorim believed the necklace held warmth.

Tick, tock.

The sound of the second hand moving echoed in the silent bedroom. Seorim’s hollow eyes turned to the clock on the wall. When the minute hand moved a little to ten-thirty, then…

In the seamless silence, he suddenly heard the sound of slipper soles dragging.

Seorim, who had been sprawled on the bed, forced himself to sit up. With a nervously outstretched hand, he undid a few buttons on his shirt. To let his white, shallow chest satisfy the chaotic desires.

The noise outside the door stops. His heart beats a little faster. He gulps. It feels like he can hear the sound of saliva sliding down his throat.

As Seorim turned on the lamp, the door opened. A thick pheromone slowly seeped into the air. It was clearly an alpha’s, but he felt no excitement at all.

“You’ve arrived, Husband.”

His voice cracked. It was because of the disgusting pheromones. To avoid showing it, Seorim smiled shyly. Chairman Ryu’s face, illuminated by the light, was a little more disgusting than the pheromones.

They weren’t married, and to have a sold male prostitute call him Husband was in bad taste.

Chairman Ryu, who had closed the door and entered, reached out and caressed his cheek. Seorim lowered his eyes like a dog before its master to hide the disgust in his gaze. Soon, the warm breath of another person tickled the area around his neck.

“You smell particularly strong today. And you’ve sweat a lot.”

Because I feel like I could collapse at any moment. If he relaxed his tension, his body would immediately go limp. Seorim, with an arm that had no strength, tried to place his hand on Chairman Ryu’s chest.

“I was, looking forward to it…”

Meanwhile, obsessive thoughts about the necklace once again grew in his mind. It would be better to go out as soon as I wake up. I wonder if a wild animal has already taken it. I wonder if there are any crows or the like around here.

“My body was aching for you.”

Perhaps satisfied with the answer he had forced out of his mouth, Chairman Ryu pulled his thin arm toward him. Following that, he forcefully pressed down on his shoulders, causing Seorim to get off the bed and kneel before him. He knew well the meaning behind the posture.

Chairman Ryu silently pressed his crotch against Seorim’s mouth. A musty smell wafted from his bulging trousers. Putting strength into his twitching lips, Seorim looked up at Chairman Ryu.

A face glistening with excitement, and beyond it, a brown cabinet could be seen.

Come to think of it, did I search under there? It might have slid in after being kicked by someone passing by.

As his attention was diverted elsewhere, the strength in his hand rubbing the trousers drained away. As his fingertips lingered around the zipper, Chairman Ryu’s hand slipped to the back of Seorim’s head. A strong pressure, containing an unspoken command, pressed down on his head.

“Ugh, euk.”

His nose was buried in the unpleasant contour, causing Seorim to shudder. He quickly unzipped the trousers with his hands. As he slowly lifted the underwear, the penis, buried in curly pubic hair, popped out.

The sight of it, disgustingly shaped and oozing precum, was even more repulsive today. The smell was so strong it was hard to breathe through his nose. Seorim slightly pushed away the head that was touching his cheek and barely opened his mouth.

“Today, ugh, I want to do it with my hand.”

“…”

“Husband’s dick, it’s so pretty, I want to touch it.”

He was a master at pleasing people while prostituting himself. However, his tongue twisted as he tried to hold back the rising nausea. Taking Chairman Ryu’s silence as an affirmation, he stroked the thick shaft. A sticky liquid clung to his palm.

His eyes stung and his stomach churned. Unconsciously frowning, Seorim moved his hand mechanically.

Nights with Chairman Ryu were always agonizing, but today was truly overwhelming. Even doing it with his hand was uncomfortable, so he wondered if he could take it from below. How can I finish this quickly and go to sleep?

With the movement of his wrist, the penis swayed from side to side. Seorim’s eyes, witnessing the repulsive sight, grew cold. His ears felt blocked. It felt as if his consciousness was gradually drifting away from reality.

The necklace, I couldn’t find the necklace either. Maybe I dropped it in the hallway and the servants saw it while passing by. I should have asked.

I’m not going to lose it completely, am I? I have to wake up as early as possible tomorrow morning and…

“Baby.”

Suddenly, a soft voice poured down from above his head. Despite being in the middle of their own kind of lovemaking, it was a somehow neat and clear sound, without any dishevelment. It was the moment Seorim stopped stroking the penis and lifted his head.

Slap, the sound of skin hitting skin sharply tore through the air.

For a moment, unable to comprehend what had happened, Seorim blinked blankly. Chairman Ryu was not visible. It was because he had been hit so hard that his face had turned. His vision flashed white, and the sensation of his cheek burning as if branded by fire was vivid.

“Hee, euk.”

Without giving him a chance to soothe his stinging skin, a second blow flew at him. Lacking the strength to block his face with his hands or arms, Seorim fell to the floor. The inside of his mouth filled with a metallic taste from biting his cheek.

“I treat you nicely and you can’t get a grip?”

“Husband, heu, ack.”

“I’ve seen plenty of kids like you.”

A third, a fourth. The bony palm mercilessly slapped Seorim’s cheek. Blood was now flowing from his burst lip. The force of the blows was so strong that he couldn’t even open his eyes.

“Trusting in that pretty face, you little male prostitute who only knows how to spread your legs.”

“…”

“You don’t even know your place and you’re acting insolently.”

He could feel Chairman Ryu’s anger growing as he continued to speak. After hitting his face a few more times, he grabbed Seorim’s hair. Tears, formed from the pain, tumbled down his swollen cheeks.

“The Husbands you’ve had so far must have let you get away with that kind of behavior.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Did they die of pleasure when you smiled sweetly and tightened up? Like an idiot?”

He was more insane than he had thought. It was true that he had been neglectful in his foreplay, but to beat someone with his eyes rolled back like this. The hair, violently grabbed, stung as if it would be pulled out by the roots, and a groan escaped him involuntarily.

“You spoil them a little and they think they’re sitting on top of the world, that’s what the omega race is like. The vulgar things.”

His limbs convulsed uncontrollably with instinctive fear. His lips, unable to close, continued to let out thin screams. The burst blood and tears slid down his white cheeks, leaving messy trails.

He knew from past experience that screaming was useless. A much worse violence would surely follow. There had been several times when he had been caught trying to escape from the omega brothel and had been flogged or confined to a solitary cell. That was how people treated the object called a male prostitute.

“You have to teach a beast its place from the very beginning.”

The fear of what more he would endure quickly consumed his mind. He was thrown into a corner by his hair, and Seorim’s head hit the cabinet hard. As his vision flashed from the impact, Chairman Ryu took something out of a bedroom drawer.