Vol. 1 Chapter 1.2

For alphas, omegas are both a means to continue their authority and a threat. An omega in another’s hands could give birth to another alpha, posing a future threat. Decades ago, one of the upper class’s low-quality pastimes was ‘omega hunting.’

‘How ridiculous. Treating omegas like beasts while needing to borrow their wombs to birth their precious children.’ Yeha scoffed bitterly.

“So that’s why there are so many ads looking for omegas these days.”

“It’s all happening in the shadows. If you go to the fake omega streets in Gangnam or the casinos in Cheongdam, they follow you around, saying, ‘Looking for an omega. Looking for an omega. One hundred million credits!’ Like, ‘Give me a dollar.’

“Do they even find them that way? I thought omegas went completely extinct ten years ago.”

“Whoa, no way. I want to smell an omega before I die. The fake omegas smell too disgusting. It’s like shoving cheap perfume up your nostrils!”

“You idiot. We can’t smell real omegas. Only alphas can. And fake omegas? You dirty bastard. Showing off that you’ve been to brothels?”

“I went with you, remember?”

“Ahem, well… anyway. They say even if you can’t smell them, it’s like doing drugs. That place is, like, super tight? Our team leader said he did it with an omega about twenty years ago. Back then, you could still occasionally, if you were lucky, see an omega in a brothel. But it cost a million credits for one session. A million credits is half our annual salary, half!”

A conversation devoid of any shame continued relentlessly. Yeha frowned. Not just because of the content, but because they seemed to have completely forgotten he existed. He was sitting right there at the counter. What if he was an omega?

Well, they couldn’t do anything, but still. No, he could smash their heads with a beer bottle. Yeha clicked his tongue.

“Okay, stop it. You’ll never see an omega before you die anyway.”

“You never know. One might be hiding nearby.”

Clang. The glass Yeha was pretending to wipe slipped and crashed to the floor. The gazes of the men, who had been huddled together, instantly snapped to Yeha. Six eyes darted between Yeha and the shattered glass.

Yeha nervously licked his dry lips. Thump, thump, thump. His heart raced, and his spine tingled. It felt like dozens of insects were crawling up his legs.

‘One might be hiding nearby.’ Yeha repeated the words in his head three times before finally managing a faint smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Acting nonchalant, pretending not to be terrified, he apologized with the sincerity of a part-timer who had troubled a customer. He quickly crouched down and gathered the sharp shards of glass.

After watching Yeha for a moment, they soon refocused on their conversation. Only then could Yeha exhale the breath that had been stuck in his throat.

The glass shards kept slipping from his grasp. He clasped his trembling hands together and took a deep breath.

They continued to chat for a long time, finished a bottle of beer, and left. They occasionally glanced at Yeha with strange looks, but Yeha pretended not to notice, fixing his gaze on the uninteresting TV.

That was the very minor mishap that had occurred today. Dropping the glass. Hearing the word ‘omega,’ which he rarely heard.

That was really… all there was to it. So why did it turn out like this?

When he finally opened his eyes after some time, his body still ached. The electricity from the taser felt like a noose tightening around his entire body. His muscles were so tense that he kept hunching his shoulders.

Yeha wondered who had thrown him into this hellhole. Was it those office workers? Or the cafe owner? Or the college student upstairs? Or maybe the landlady?

It was a pointless thought. Even if he knew, it wouldn’t change anything. What did it matter who had sold him out when he was lying here, stunned by a taser, like an animal being sold off?

The couch Yeha was slumped on reeked of stale odours. He wanted to get up, but it was as if his back was glued to it; he couldn’t move.

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP.

Someone was clapping. The sound was so sharp that his ears rang.

“Goodness, goodness! I never imagined you’d be hiding in Korea, huh?”

The man had striking purple hair. He looked to be in his early forties. Every time he spoke, his tarnished, gleaming gold teeth flashed into view. Front teeth, bottom teeth, molars. All gold. It wasn’t that his teeth were decayed and needed gold crowns; it was for show. You could tell just by the rings crammed onto all ten of his fingers.

You. Hiding. Korea. Imagined. Yeha realized from those few words that the purple-haired man hadn’t found ‘an omega,’ but ‘Kang Yeha, the omega.’

“I thought you were on some island, or in the mountains, or abroad, or maybe, if you were unlucky, you’d ended up in a brothel, huh?”

“…”

“Do you know how worried I was? That some other bastard would snatch you up. Or that you’d have your heat, huh?”

“…”

Was that a question? Or was he asking for agreement? Yeha stared at the man with narrowed eyes. The ‘huh’ he kept adding was really annoying.

The man’s words were incessant. They sounded like lamentation, but also like relief. Whatever they were, they were closer to a monologue than a conversation.

“Anyway, it’s a relief. If it weren’t for your dad, I could have found you sooner. Huh? Isn’t that just awful?”

“…Dad?”

Yeha’s eyes widened at that piercing word.

“Thanks to him, our client is very angry. Scary, I tell you? Huh? Our client has way too much power. So much that even President Song of Purple Auction is scared.”

“Did you say Dad? You?”

Yeha struggled to sit up like a dying dog. He couldn’t even get off the couch; he only managed to lift his upper body. His nape still tingled, but it didn’t matter.

‘Dad.’

It had been so long since he’d spoken that word aloud. Hearing it from a stranger made his body surge with energy, as if he’d been awakened.

“What? You can get up?”

But President Song didn’t seem very interested in Yeha’s words. He snapped his fingers in the air. At that, the anonymous hulk standing behind him cocked a familiar gun at Yeha. It was the taser he’d been hit with in the alleyway a few hours ago.

He wasn’t afraid of that thing. The fact that they were holding a taser, not a real gun, meant they didn’t intend to kill him. Yeha gritted his teeth and strained his back, and the taser took another step closer.

“Do you know my dad? Do you know where he is?”

“Of course, I know him. But that’s not the important issue right now. Huh? Director Seong will be here soon.”

“How do you know my dad? Do you know where he is?”

“Director Seong is a very strict and meticulous person. Everything he sees and hears goes straight to our esteemed client’s ears. Huh? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Are you listening to me? Where’s my dad!”

‘Aaaargh!’ Yeha let out a scream. He twisted and thrashed, and the taser was now touching his head. Red veins stood out in the whites of Yeha’s eyes.

President Song chuckled, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looked down on Yeha like a contemptible little puppy growling.

“So be quiet, be good, be obedient.”

“Hey! Are you listening to me?!”

“Do you know how much money I spent looking for you, huh? These days, the vault is, damn, pathetic. The vault of President Song, the great President Song, is pathetic.”

President Song stomped his heel on the floor with a thud each time he paused. Even his fiercely raised eyebrows were purple. He slowly approached Yeha. Yeha grimaced at the overpowering scent of perfume.

“Dad. Why are you so hung up on that? Aren’t you worried about your future?”

“…”

“Smelly, damp. What do you think this place is? You can figure it out, can’t you? So, what’s going to happen to you here? Huh?”

“…”

“Think carefully. Omega-nim. That’s how I survive. And you too. There aren’t any more omegas to sell. You’re the last one.”

So please, take care of me. Please get sold for a very, very high price. President Song grinned, stretching his thick lips wide. His eyebrows shot up, his nostrils flared, and his cheekbones gleamed. It was such a devilish expression that Yeha lost the words he was about to hurl at him.

After laughing heartily, he turned around. Yeha, who had been gnawing on his lip, struggled to his feet. His groin trembled, and his calves twitched, but it was bearable.

“How do you know my dad? Where is he?”

“…”

President Song’s eyebrow cocked crookedly. He put one hand in his pocket and looked down at Yeha intently. It was a slightly different look than before.

He remained like that for quite some time before finally opening his mouth.

“Your Dad…”

“Hanho Group has been reached.”

The man who suddenly entered cut off President Song’s words. Yeha glared at the man with a fierce look.

How tactless, right now. It was news of his dad, whom he hadn’t heard from in five years.

President Song left without regret. A few minutes after he left, the door opened again. The thick door, which must be what doors in underground bunkers were like, made a tearing sound as it opened, grating on the ears.

“Hello.”

The newly arrived figure looked very cold. Was this the Director Seong that President Song had mentioned? A strict and meticulous person. It certainly seemed so. He was wearing a tailored suit, and his tie was fastened tightly to the neck. The silver tie pin on it was free of any scratches or fingerprints.

He sat on the sofa opposite Yeha and nodded.

“I am Seong Jun-ho, an agent of President Choi Han-geon. I have arranged this meeting to conclude a contract with Kang Yeha-nim. Please excuse the less-than-ideal location.”

“…”

Yeha burst out laughing. Choi Han-geon. It wasn’t unfamiliar, but it wasn’t familiar either. It was like… a president, an actor, or a singer. That’s what the name felt like. Someone he had never met, but whose name and face were more familiar than his next-door neighbor.

Ah. It seemed that the man who had thrown him into this hellhole was this Choi Han-geon. No wonder. He hadn’t liked his face on TV from the start.

“You may call me Director Seong.”

Director Seong didn’t seem bothered at all by Yeha’s face, which twisted this way and that. Or perhaps he simply didn’t care.

After briefly introducing himself, Director Seong took a tablet out of his jacket pocket. When a bar the size of his thumb and index finger recognized his fingerprint, it displayed a hologram the size of an A4 sheet of paper. It was covered in tiny print.

“If you agree to the contract, please scan your thumbprint in the lower left corner.”

Director Seong pushed the tablet toward Yeha. Yeha only moved his eyes and began to read the contract.

[Between Choi Han-geon (hereinafter referred to as ‘A’) and omega Kang Yeha (hereinafter referred to as ‘B’)…]

He stopped reading there. How could the very first sentence strike a person’s crown with an ax? Blood gushed out, making his whole body feel hot.

That bastard Choi Han-geon was A. And he was not only B, but ‘omega’ B. It was utterly ridiculous.

“What is this?”

Yeha asked, scratching his chin suspiciously. His mind was filled with nothing but his dad’s whereabouts, which he hadn’t heard from President Song.

“This is a contract regarding the compensation, subsequent procedures, and confidentiality that will be provided after omega Kang Yeha-nim gives birth to an alpha.”

“Ha…”

Yeha couldn’t hide the scorn that rose like nausea. Omega, give birth to an alpha, subsequent procedures. The person involved hadn’t even thought about it, but they were already playing the drums, gongs, and performing a shamanistic ritual, even releasing an album.

“I don’t want to. Why would I do something like that?”

“You haven’t even read the contract yet.”

“I don’t want to, even if I don’t read it.”

Yeha shoved the tablet away. The tablet rolled over and the hologram flickered off helplessly. Director Seong’s left eyebrow twitched.

“I will briefly explain it to you. We don’t have much time.”