ODKO | Chapter 1

“Are you all set?”

Rick Wyatt asked. Jack Carlson was straightening the collar of his uniform and glanced at Rick through the mirror.

“Don’t be too nervous. Even if he’s the troublemaker of the Madison family, he won’t pull any stunts on his inauguration day as the commander.”

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As their eyes met in the mirror, Rick Wyatt rubbed his gloved hands together, as if trying to comfort him.

Jack, who hadn’t been thinking about anything, simply looked at Rick without responding. Rick’s face, with his light green eyes, was stiff.

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It was hard to tell whether he was telling Jack not to be nervous—or telling himself.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll keep that in mind.”

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Anyone could see that Rick Wyatt was the one who was nervous, but Jack responded casually. That was just how social life worked.

Even though they had both received knighthood, Rick Wyatt was born a noble. No matter how hard Jack Carlson tried, the gap in status—one that could never be closed—made Rick his eternal superior.

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Swallowing words that might offend him was the right answer.

Still, Rick Wyatt’s expression wasn’t good. It seemed he wasn’t pleased with the timing of Jack’s response.

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“Hey, Jack Carlson. What’s with the ‘Yeah, sure’? I’m giving you advice here…”

“Sorry, it just came out that way.”

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Jack Carlson forced a smile. Rick twisted his face in dissatisfaction towards Jack.

“Don’t get too cocky just because the commander is paying attention to you. Remember, the knight order is a group, after all.”

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“Of course. I keep that in mind. I’m just feeling a bit uneasy because I’m nervous. Excuse me for a moment.”

Jack Carlson placed a hand on his perfectly fine stomach and nodded lightly. Hearing that Jack was just as nervous, Rick Wyatt finally relaxed his expression a bit.

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“Geez, is there really anything to be that nervous about? Go on.”

Rick Wyatt, now with a brighter face, waved his hand cheerfully. Jack Carlson forced a troubled expression and politely exited the waiting room.

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The ceremony hadn’t even started, but he already felt tired. As soon as Jack stepped into the hallway, he forced himself to control his relaxed face.

“Hey, Jack. Where are you going?”

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Before he could even relax, someone called out from the opposite end of the hallway.

It was a man with a large build and short red hair styled upwards. Despite wearing the knight order’s uniform neatly, he gave off a rugged impression—more like a mercenary than a knight. His voice carried a rough accent that matched his appearance.

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“I’m just going to take care of something for a moment.”

“Now? The ceremony’s about to start.”

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The man’s name was Miles Christopher, and he was the deputy commander of the knight order Jack Carlson belonged to.

Miles widened his eyes at Jack’s words and glanced out the window on the opposite side of the hallway.

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In the garden outside, the imperial dragon flag—the symbol of the empire—fluttered alongside the flag bearing the crest of the imperial family and the banner of the Red Knights Repels, the central figure of today’s event.

Soon, the inauguration ceremony for the 38th commander of the Red Knights Repels, Cayenne Madison, would begin.
“I’ll head straight to the ceremony hall.”

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Reassured by Jack Carlson’s businesslike response, Miles nodded.

Jack’s urgency had less to do with needing to take care of something and more with the ordeal of staying in the waiting room. His plan was simple—pass the time until just before the ceremony and head straight to the ceremony hall.

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It wasn’t a lie.

“Alright, make sure you’re not late.”

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Jack took a step back and bowed his head deeply.

Miles smiled contentedly and patted Jack’s shoulder. Although Jack Carlson was one of the tallest in the knight order, he was no match for Miles’ bandit-like physique. The weight of the thick hand landing on his shoulder was unmistakable.

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Jack remained in his bowing posture, unmoving, as Miles passed by him toward the waiting room.

“So, is everyone ready?”

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Without knocking, Miles swung open the waiting room door, and his booming voice echoed down the hallway.

Jack walked briskly away, leaving the piercing voice behind.

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What perfect timing. Jack thought as he glanced at the now noisy waiting room. If he had been even a little later, Miles would have dragged him away without a chance to escape.

Having already seen what he needed to, he could now pass the time leisurely and head straight to the ceremony hall when the moment arrived—ensuring a peaceful end to the inauguration.

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Maybe I should roll a cigarette and smoke it in the meantime.

He had been walking down the hallway for a while, but there seemed to be unusually few people—probably because everyone had gathered for the inauguration.

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It also meant the ceremony was close, but Jack didn’t hurry. Even after everyone had assembled, it was common for the main event to be delayed while waiting for high-ranking officials. No, it wasn’t just common—it happened almost every time.

Even if he missed the timing and arrived late, someone like Jack Carlson, who held no significant position in the knight order, would only have to endure a scolding from Deputy Commander Miles.

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Not being in a position of responsibility had its advantages. So Jack Carlson leisurely searched for a secluded spot where he wouldn’t be noticed. Then, he suddenly heard a small sound.

“…damn…”

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There was no one.

…Did I hear wrong? Jack tilted his head. The sound had been so faint it could have been a mistake, and he neither heard anything else nor sensed any presence.

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Finding it strange, Jack was about to move again—when he caught a scent.

A sharp cigarette smell. And that wasn’t all. Amidst the acrid, burnt odor, there was something else. A sweet scent, not completely concealed, mingling in an odd way.

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Jack frowned deeply. That sweetness was pleasant on its own, but the place was wrong.

In the Imperial Castle—especially in the Northern Fortress, where the knight order was stationed—it was a scent that should never be present.

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Following the direction of the scent tickling his nose, he arrived at a room in the corner of the hallway. The door was slightly ajar.

Painted in a plain color similar to the wall, without any luxurious decorations, it was not a door meant for those of high rank residing in the castle. It seemed to be a break room for the staff. Even Jack Carlson, who had worked at the Imperial Castle for years, hadn’t known it was there.

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“Who’s there?”

Though mingled with the cigarette smoke, there was no mistaking it—an Omega’s pheromones, thick with the unmistakable allure of heat. Such a scent wasn’t threatening, but Jack Carlson instinctively placed a hand on the sword belt at his left hip.

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“Is anyone there?”

Jack carefully pushed the door open. As the gap widened, the scent he had dismissed as a mistake became overpowering.

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It was strange. Cigarette smoke and pheromones, intertwined grotesquely, forming a mix so extreme that it made his head spin.

For a brief moment, his mind went blank—like being struck by an invisible force. Jack furrowed his brow, struggling to hold onto his scattering consciousness.

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“…Get lost.”

Amidst the overwhelming stimuli, a burning voice slipped through. Even that voice was drenched, causing Jack to halt his cautious steps unconsciously.

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As he pushed the door open, the luminescent stones embedded in the walls flickered to life. Beyond the doorway, the deep darkness gave way to a storage room—likely used for cleaning supplies and staff belongings. Unlike the dust-free, polished corridor, the space inside was cluttered, as if it belonged to an entirely different world.

Jack instinctively raised a hand to cover his nose as the scent thickened—acrid and seductive, coiling around him like an unseen force. The air inside was so murky that his vision blurred for a moment.

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The heated scent was especially difficult to endure. It clung stickily to his thin veil of reason, like mucus suffocating his restraint. The selfish instinct behind it—stripping away the opponent’s self-control and exploiting it for physiological desires—was blatant. And it was strong.

An Omega. And not just any Omega—a dominant one.

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With a deep furrow in his brow, Jack’s gaze locked onto something swaying in the depths of the storage room.

“…Why…”

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Why is there an Omega in a place like this? Jack was about to ask, but the movement of the black figure he had glimpsed was a step faster.

The moment Jack’s eyes widened in realization, his hand instinctively gripped his sword—

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Bang!

With a loud noise, the storage room door slammed shut behind him.

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“Didn’t you hear me say get lost?”

Jack involuntarily took a deep breath. The air he had dragged deep into his lungs refused to be exhaled. His body froze—his grip on the hilt of his sword stopping halfway.

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In the narrow space, the Omega—presumably—had closed the distance between them in an instant.

A cigarette hung at an angle between red lips.

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A long leg brushed past Jack’s side, sealing the door shut.

A confined, enclosed space. Smoky cigarette haze swirling in the air.

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Heat-laced Omega pheromones thick enough to suffocate.

And right in front of him—a pale, ethereal face.

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