CMT Ch9

Then why? This time, Seoyoon asked with only his eyes. Kijung smiled faintly, just as he had done last time. Kwon Kijung’s smiling face in front of the grotesque painting had something about it that chilled one’s heart.

The memory of freezing like a mouse before a snake at his single command to stay still came back unpleasantly vivid. As Seoyoon slightly furrowed his previously smooth brow at the renewed sense of humiliation, Kijung opened his mouth, seemingly indifferent to Seoyoon’s thoughts.

“Today, I have something I’d like to propose to Han Seoyoon.”

“…”

“That whip, have you ever thought about entrusting it to someone else?”

Silence followed.

Seoyoon couldn’t answer immediately. Before deciding whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t even understand the meaning of his words. As if anticipating Seoyoon’s blank reaction, Kijung continued.

“You said there are times when you want to feel pain, right?”

Seoyoon nodded. There was still something off about saying he wanted to feel pain, but he couldn’t clearly explain his own habit even to himself. Rather, he was curious about what would come next.

“I like inflicting pain.”

Kijung smiled brightly. When his neat and handsome face smiled, he looked as gentle as if he were saying something pretty like “I like flowers.”

The sense of unreality he had felt before swelled beneath his feet. It was as if he were standing on a soft, gelatinous substance rather than solid ground, losing his balance. All he could do was tense his legs to keep from falling.

Does he mean he wants to hurt me? Seoyoon blankly met the gaze of the man before him. Did he mean it literally, that he wanted to wield a whip against him, not as a metaphor?

Seoyoon had mentioned masochism while explaining Bacon’s painting. Now he seemed to understand why he had deliberately pointed out that specific painting and prompted an explanation. Kijung asked:

“Aren’t you curious about anything?”

There were too many questionable points to even begin. Unable to decide what to ask first, Seoyoon hesitated and finally added only a weak explanation.

“I don’t particularly like pain.”

“That doesn’t matter. The intensity can be adjusted, and what’s important is whether Han Seoyoon can accept it or not.”

“Do you… hit other people, Director?”

He wanted to use a more euphemistic expression, but couldn’t find an appropriate one. Do you use violence? Do you inflict pain on others? As he tried to choose a suitable expression among dictionary terms, his words got tangled in his confused mind, and instead, a direct question came out.

“I have done it before.”

Seoyoon’s gaze reflexively turned to Kijung’s hands. The hands that had carelessly gripped his forearm were large, fitting his build, with long fingers and prominent knuckles. Though elegant in shape, the knuckles and veins on the back of his hands were far from delicate, yet they weren’t rough-looking hands either.

The hands, which seemed more suited to turning pages of documents or books than hitting someone, were overall white and smooth, with well-groomed nails neatly arranged at the fingertips like perfectly shaped components.

Would he hit people with those hands? Over this doubt, the sensation of his fingertips pressing firmly on Seoyoon’s wounded forearm overlapped. The memory of trembling like a mouse before a snake at his single command to stay still came back unpleasantly vivid. The wound Kwon Kijung had discovered was almost healed at that time, but the pain from the new wound made a few days ago was still fresh. Suddenly, the pain intensified so much that his entire arm tingled, causing Seoyoon to hold his breath.

“But it wasn’t fun.”

The words that followed were even more incomprehensible. He said he liked inflicting pain, yet hitting wasn’t fun.

Then what did Kwon Kijung want to do to him? As Seoyoon followed his words and continued thinking, he was becoming calmer compared to when he first heard the sudden proposal.

In the end, it was a story of him being interested after seeing the wound on Seoyoon’s forearm and deliberately coming here to meet him. Since he couldn’t fully understand the words of someone who claimed to enjoy hurting others, he decided to just consider the situation.

‘Is this an opportunity?’

Seoyoon clenched one fist tightly.

It didn’t make sense logically. You like pain and I like inflicting it, so what exactly was he suggesting? Did he want to tie him up and lynch him? Did he mean he wanted to make knife marks on his bare body instead?

He was someone who could pay anyone to hit or cut as he pleased if he wanted. If the compensation was sufficient, there would be no shortage of people willing to offer their bodies to be tormented. He didn’t think he had come all this way to meet him just to talk about something so simple.

Seoyoon stared at the painting hanging in front. Sadism, meaning the tendency to gain satisfaction through inflicting pain, and masochism, referring to the tendency to enjoy receiving pain, were familiar terms to people in the art world. Within the numerous worlds derived from these two tendencies and theories, there were cruel scenes overflowing with torture and blood, as well as grotesque and erotic scenes of binding or deforming the human body in bizarre ways.

However, everything was within the canvas. They were aesthetically refined results, mostly symbolic, with only a small portion of reality embedded in them. If what he wanted was something of this nature…

“I’m curious about what exactly you want to do.”

“It’s exactly as I said. I want to torment Seoyoon. I’ll think about the specific methods once you agree.”

“Isn’t it… dangerous?”

“Whatever you’re thinking of, it won’t be as painful as what Seoyoon does to himself. I won’t injure you or make you bleed. For now, I just want to see how much potential you have.”

Kijung shrugged slightly and added:

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you everything in detail.”

This situation hadn’t been fun for Seoyoon from the start, but he didn’t bother to say it out loud.

The day he thought was completely over was now continuing in this place. If it was up to him to decide whether to grasp this opportunity or not.

He remembered his father’s face when he was informed of the disappointing failure of the arranged marriage he had hoped for. He also recalled his mother’s cowed appearance, who, despite her originally outgoing personality, had gradually become reluctant to go out as the company faced difficulties. And his brother’s anger, yelling at him that he shouldn’t have come back at all.

“Is this some kind of experiment? Using me?”

“I won’t stop you if you want to think of it that way.”

“If I accept your proposal… what can I gain, Director?”

Now Seoyoon wasn’t flustered or panicking. Despite the content directly revealing desire, his tone demanding compensation was dry and brittle.

However, Kwon Kijung probably wouldn’t find this contradiction strange. Born into a chaebol family and attending an unwanted arranged marriage at his grandfather’s direction, he too must be familiar with acting as a proxy for others’ desires.

“I understand what Han Seoyoon wants to say, but…”

A slightly regretful look flashed across Kijung’s face.

“I don’t mean to progress the marriage talk. As I said, I have no intention of marriage yet, and I’ve never thought about marrying a man, be it beta or omega. But this hobby can be pursued with mere curiosity or interest.”

After explaining the preconditions, Kijung smirked and added:

“As a side note, I’d like to avoid marrying an omega regardless of gender if possible.”

“…Don’t alphas generally prefer omegas as marriage partners?”

“Given my preferences, I don’t like being controlled by others. There are times when I have to accept it due to my position, but I’m a bit scared of omegas because I feel they might instinctively try to dominate me before I even think about it.”

“I’ve never heard that before.”

“Believe it or not, I’m quite timid.”

The man saying this had the face of someone who had never been afraid in his life. Seoyoon had occasionally heard stories of omegas having vague fears about alphas, but it was unheard of for an alpha to be afraid of omegas.

Seoyoon inwardly smiled bitterly. Though he expressed it as ‘scared’, it probably meant he found them uncomfortable. There were countless cases where even those born with the unique characteristics of special traits couldn’t understand or accept each other.

It’s said that alphas and omegas had strong instincts, but Seoyoon had never experienced a heat cycle even at twenty-seven years old. The same would likely be true for Kijung, who must have received special care from the best medical staff since birth.

To say he’s afraid of a form of instinct he’s never experienced seemed like an excuse that would only work in a bygone era. A mocking smile rose at the pretentious excuse, but on reflection, it wasn’t an unnatural thing. Is it wrong for people who still follow old-fashioned customs, suddenly going on arranged marriages due to agreements between families, to harbor fears from a past era? As Seoyoon, lost in thought, remained silent for a long time, Kijung added:

“Let’s talk about something else. I’ll judge whether the price is appropriate or not.”

While his head was still hazily punching numbers on a calculator, Seoyoon’s mind, having lost its sense of balance, was already leaning to one side. Wobbling. After all, it would be foolish to miss an opportunity that had rolled in. In exchange for playing along with Director Kwon’s game, an appropriate compensation to receive…

“I won’t charge for the test.”

“…”

“Instead… if you like me after trying it out, I’d like to continue with that hobby of yours for a longer time, Director.”

To Seoyoon’s answer, which came after quite a long deliberation, Kijung didn’t hide his surprise and slightly widened his eyes. His lips still bore a faint, dark smile.

“Are you sure it’s okay without trying it first?”

“If I give up first, please consider it as if it never happened.”

The brief words implied that the desired compensation wasn’t just that. Seoyoon answered without omission.

“If our hobby continues longer… please take me as your lover during that time.”

“Lover?”

“Yes. Please tell people you’re meeting me with marriage in mind, and treat me like a lover in front of others. You can end the hobby and officially terminate the relationship whenever you need to. That’s all I ask.”

Ah. Kijung let out a low, short exclamation and nodded.

“Seoyoon, you give a much better impression now than when we first met. You’re clever too.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“Then we should set a date to meet again.”

“I’ll adjust to whatever date is convenient for you.”

The verbal agreement was already established. Seoyoon, who had responded politely, noticed that Kijung’s gaze, which had been on his face, had now moved down to his wrist area.

“Roll up your sleeve.”

He tried to pretend not to notice and put his hands behind his back, but Kijung’s instruction was faster.

Trying to hide his unease by pressing his lips tightly together, Seoyoon quietly unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt. As the sleeve of the cream-colored shirt he had chosen for the interview slowly rolled up, his white and straight forearm was revealed.

He raised both arms forward in parallel, just as he had done on the day of the arranged marriage. It’s better now than then. At least he’s fully dressed this time.

Kijung examined the outstretched arms closely, as if inspecting them. But even without a thorough look, the changes on Seoyoon’s arms were easily noticeable.

The moment the long fingers touched his bare skin without any consent or warning, Seoyoon flinched his shoulders but didn’t twist his body to resist or avoid it like he had that day.

Kijung’s hand, which had arbitrarily come up over Seoyoon’s arm, tapped the gauze foam placed on the wound area. As if unwrapping a package, he simply peeled it off and checked the bare skin underneath the foam.

A reddish-brown knife mark, still fresh, was drawn over the old scar that had mostly faded to a mere trace. The wound, crusted with dried blood, was in no state to be called pleasant, even jokingly. Though it didn’t require a bandage, the memory of unexpectedly having his scar discovered was still vivid, and feeling defensive, Seoyoon had covered the wound before going to the interview today.

And yet, today again, in front of this man… Was it because of the sudden cool air on his warm bare skin, or the shame of forcibly exposing such an unsightly and private area? Though it didn’t hurt, his legs felt weak. Seoyoon experienced a dizziness similar to last time.

“You’ve been whipped again so soon.”

Somewhere between a whisper and a mutter. That’s how Kwon Kijung’s voice sounded as he examined Seoyoon’s arm. Seoyoon tried to compose his expression, but he couldn’t control the flush spreading across his face by willpower alone.

The wound hidden beneath his clothes was a solitary shadow that only he should know about. A place where weakness and dark emotions he didn’t want to reveal to others were crushed and overcome.

Secrets are meaningful only when they remain secret. The moment they’re discovered by others, no matter how much you try to keep a straight face and act nonchalant, the fact that Han Seoyoon was far more fragile than he appeared was exposed, and in the face of the knowing person’s cynicism, it made him feel utterly small.

Kijung covered the wound he had been examining. Unlike Seoyoon, who felt dizzy as if all his insides had been laid bare, Kijung’s face remained impassive, as if he had seen something trivial. Following Kijung’s gesture, Seoyoon pulled down his sleeve to adjust his appearance. Try as he might, his fingertips trembled.

“Contact me when the wound has healed.”

“Yes.”

“I have no interest in playing with a body scarred by others. Even if those scars were made by Seoyoon himself.”

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

Kijung took something out and held it out. Upon receiving and examining it, Seoyoon found it was a business card made of crisp paper. The simple design of the card, without any affiliation or position written on it, indicated its private nature.

“Well then, continue looking around. I’ve interrupted you for too long.”

Seoyoon had meant to say he would leave first, but he was a moment too late. By the time Seoyoon gathered his scattered thoughts, Kijung was already leaving the exhibition hall.

Seoyoon slowly moved his feet and collapsed onto a nearby bench. As the tension released, the trembling that had started in his arm, far from subsiding, spread throughout his entire body.