Baek Kyung had already realized that Siron’s claim of having a boyfriend was a flimsy lie—ever since Dr. Johnson rejected Siron’s awkward attempt at affectionate contact. On top of that, Johnson’s attention wasn’t on Siron at all, but entirely on the one who had suddenly appeared: Baek Kyung. After all, the only kind of uninvited visitors who came to Dr. Johnson were those trying to abduct him.
Baek Kyung glanced at the notebook on Johnson’s desk. It contained a memo written in Albanian.
Sam Johnson, age 31.
Adverse reaction: bullous urticaria.
Severity: mild.
Required side effect?: No.
Relation to trial drug: inconclusive.
Treatment: discontinued.
Outcome: recovery.
At a glance, it looked like a routine clinical report. Which meant Dr. Johnson was running some kind of clinical trial on people. Skimming the Albanian text, Baek Kyung asked:
“Clinical trials?”
“...You read Albanian?”
“I had some free time. Studied it a little.”
He flipped through the notebook without permission. But there was no information on Siron.
“Did Siron participate in your trials?”
“I don’t share information about my patients.”
“Haha. Patient?”
Baek Kyung gave the man a sly grin.
“But you’re not even a real doctor.”
His gaze shifted past the desk, to the shadowed area beyond the reach of the exam lamp. There, a corpse lay in the darkness, faintly exuding the scent of decay. Its limbs were twisted unnaturally, as if it had been tortured.
“Isn’t that right, Isaac Bazelli?”
A deep fatigue settled over Johnson—no, Isaac Bazelli’s pale face. With a quiet sigh, Isaac reached into his thigh pocket and pulled out a folding knife.
“Who sent you?”
“Who else?”
Baek Kyung scoffed.
“Yoon Siron brought me. Not that I had the slightest idea you’d be the one we’d meet.”
He glanced briefly at the corpse with a disgusted expression.
“Shouldn’t you clean that up? It’s hot out.”
“Unless you want to be buried with it, you’d better tell me why you came.”
“So intense.”
Letting out a soft laugh, Baek Kyung walked around the desk and pulled out a chair. He nudged the corpse’s arm out of the way with his foot and sat down.
“I was looking for you. Thought maybe after three or four years of tracking, I’d at least catch your shadow. Never imagined I’d meet you this soon. Feels like I used up all my lifetime luck.”
“You talk too much.”
Isaac eyed Baek Kyung carefully, as though calculating how to slice him up with just that little knife. He looked ready to attack if one more useless word came out.
“I want to make a deal.”
“A deal?”
“Share Yuri Berek’s research journal with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb.”
Baek Kyung puckered his lips and leaned deep into the back of the chair.
“If Yuri Berek’s son is hiding out in a place like this, posing as a urologist and running trials, the reason’s obvious. You’re trying to create an omega based on your father’s research.”
Isaac didn’t deny it. He just opened and closed the folding knife, expressionless.
After a long silence, he finally responded with a flat tone.
“The research journal is just an old rumor. You’re chasing ghosts.”
“No way. The fact that you’re running clinical trials in this dump is proof enough it exists.”
Suddenly, Baek Kyung opened the lapel of his suit. As he reached into the inner pocket, Isaac tensed—but Baek Kyung held out an open palm, as if to reassure him.
“Not pulling a gun. Just showing you something.”
He pulled out a small metal case, opened it, and set a business card and a clear vial on the desk.
“Vail Group has completed a rut suppressant.”
For the first time, something visibly shifted in Isaac’s stone-like expression. The knife froze mid-motion.
Isaac approached the desk, still gripping the knife, and picked up the vial with his other hand. Peering inside, he said:
“Rut suppressant, huh... Why should I believe it?”
“There’s a guy in heat outside, isn’t there? Try it on him if you want. Or I can send you the hormonal suppression test results.”
Baek Kyung slid a business card across the desk.
Vail Group
Global Marketing Intern
Baek Kyung
Isaac picked it up, his expression sour.
“They let an intern handle this kind of business? What a crazy company.”
“It’s a tough job market. Gotta hustle.”
Baek Kyung flashed a brilliant smile, showing off perfect teeth—a self-satisfied, audacious grin only possible for someone who knew the value of their charm. He was fully aware Isaac didn’t desire him. But for now, he needed the man on his side.
“You’re turning Yoon Siron into an omega, aren’t you?”
With that single line, Isaac smirked like someone who’d just figured everything out.
“Why are you so interested in Siron? Ex-boyfriend or something?”
“He’s not some ex.”
Baek Kyung answered with a sly, ambiguous smile.
“He’s my brother.”
A hairline crack appeared in Isaac’s concrete expression.
“...That’s an unexpected answer.”
“Let me ask again. You’re running an omega conversion experiment on Siron, right?”
Isaac didn’t reply, but Baek Kyung knew. Yoon Siron was the main course Isaac Bazelli was preparing for the alphas. To sit at that table, war was inevitable. Baek Kyung felt both a thrill and a chill at the thought of staking his claim on Siron first.
Looking Isaac dead in the eye with a blazing intensity, Baek Kyung said brightly:
“Isaac Bazelli. Share Yuri Berek’s research journal with me. If you help me, I’ll give you the rut suppressant, experimental subjects for omega conversion, and financial support too.”
“You think some intern can offer all that?”
“Hah, how nice of you. Setting me up so I can brag. I’m the youngest son of the Vail Group chairman.”
Expression unreadable, Isaac looked at the vial on the desk. Inside was a freeze-dried, snow-white powder produced through a precise process. A rut suppressant injectable, only effective through intravenous use.
“And stay away from Yoon Siron. He’s mine.”
Isaac squinted at Baek Kyung as if gazing into the darkness.
“Didn’t you just say he was your brother?”
“Yeah. We’re bound by fate.”
Isaac let out a sigh—barely audible, like a critic watching a painfully dull play.
But Baek Kyung didn’t care and kept talking.
“If you need omega research, I’ll throw all the test subjects you want at you. Just don’t touch Siron. That’s my only condition.”
Isaac glanced down at the knife in his hand, as though the blade might decide whether Baek Kyung lived or died.
“Did a sloppy job on my background check. I don’t need some suppressant crap.”
“...What?”
“Write this in your notebook. Isaac Bazelli is a hedonist who enjoys the rut cycle and has no need for suppressants.”
With a wicked smile, he said it like a joke—yet his voice dripped with venom. Baek Kyung’s face twitched with rising unease.
“And besides, I quite like Siron.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say... I like his face.”
Baek Kyung responded like an annoyed parent trying to pacify a child.
“Hah, our Siron’s got nothing going for him but his face.”
“If I kill you, do you think your brother would cry?”
“He’d sob like a baby.”
Baek Kyung regretted not bringing his gun. If he had it, he wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot the bastard across from him—and the rapist outside too. Then he’d hide Siron somewhere only he knew, so no one else could ever touch him. But right now, he knew he couldn’t win a war against a monster like Isaac. What chance did a mentally-rotted ex-mental ward like Baek Kyung have against a trained mercenary?
He’d been too drunk on the thrill of finally meeting Isaac Bazelli and overly optimistic about the situation. Bitter regret hit hard.
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on killing some scared little brat who can’t even control his pheromones.”
As Baek Kyung’s face twisted, Isaac theatrically folded the knife shut. He shoved it deep into the thigh pocket and added casually:
“And besides, I don’t need to dirty my hands. There are plenty of others out there who want you dead.”
“You mean... Vail Group?”
“You think alphas haven’t created suppressants because they weren’t capable?”
“...You mean they didn’t make them on purpose?”
“That’s right.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because some people don’t want suppressants to exist. So you’d better be careful.”
Leaning back against the wall with arms crossed, Isaac tilted his head slightly toward the closed door.
“But the guy outside... he’s kind of irritating.”
Staring at the door like he couldn’t shake his focus from the person beyond, Isaac asked:
“What was the situation when Yoon Siron was nearly raped?”
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