L*st and Death

Anna asked, dumbfounded.

“How is Lewis supposed to find Yoon Siron?”

“...There’s a way. Something only alphas know.”

Only alphas? Anna’s face turned to horror as she realized what Baek Kyung meant.

“You’re an alpha too?”

Leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other, Baek Kyung answered with indifference.

“Yeah.”

He cupped his cheek with one hand and stared at Anna with a vague gaze that didn’t quite land on any specific part of her body.

“Just in case... Are you an alpha too, Anna?”

Not knowing what the hell kind of question that was supposed to be, Anna glared.

“You do realize women can’t be trait-holders, right?”

“Just asking. You never know.”

“I might be big and muscular for a woman, but still. No, I’m not an alpha.”

“I wasn’t asking because of how you look. ...It’s just, there’s something kind of alpha-level crazy about you.”

As Anna fumed, Baek Kyung watched her with narrowed eyes, then casually pulled a small metal case from his jacket pocket. He popped open the lid, took out a small, clear glass vial, and set it on the table.

“Little late, but let me introduce myself. I’m Baek Kyung, affiliated with Vile Group.”

Anna looked at him like he was speaking nonsense.

“Vile Group? What the hell is that?”

“Oh, come on. It’s Korea’s world-class pharmaceutical company. You’ve never heard of it? You’re really lacking in basic knowledge.”

“World-class? This is literally the first time I’m hearing it.”

“Surely you know Viregra? Vile Group’s the company that made the famous male enhancement drug.”

Anna made a face like she’d just picked up someone else’s booger, delicately pinching the glass vial between thumb and forefinger.

“This is that Viregra?”

“Jesus, no. Of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

Baek Kyung leaned forward, as if he’d been waiting for that question.

“Rut suppressant.”

The word settled slowly across Anna’s face as she stared at him, startled.

“Suppressant?”

She peered at the small glass vial like it might contain some kind of magical elixir, then looked back at Baek Kyung.

“A drug that suppresses the rut cycle?”

“That’s right.”

“Like a tranquilizer dart?”

“Tranquilizer dart?”

Baek Kyung grimaced, like she’d just said something completely absurd. As if the connection between rut and tranquilizers hadn’t even occurred to him.

“You’re an alpha and you don’t know about tranquilizers?”

“Why should an alpha know about tranquilizer darts?”

“...NewLife Clinic?”

“NewLife Clinic?”

“...How did you become an alpha?”

In that moment, Anna realized they had no shared context between them beyond the alpha trait. But slowly, Baek Kyung caught up to her train of thought.

“That the place that makes alphas out of brain-dead patients?”

“Yeah.”

“So the tranquilizer dart... that’s to knock alphas out during rut cycles.”

“You say that like you’ve never used one.”

“Of course I haven’t. I’ve never handled rut like that.”

“Then how did you handle it?”

Baek Kyung stared out the window, clearly not wanting to answer. From the man’s touchy silence, Anna could guess—he’d gone through long, miserable ruts just like Lewis.

After a while, Baek Kyung turned from the street back to Anna, attempting to form a smile but failing. The twisted grimace on his face pointed to the vial in her hand.

“Lately I’ve been getting help from that stuff.”

Inside the vial was a milky white lyophilized powder. At a glance, it looked like ordinary dust. But if what he said was true, then this was the key to restoring peace to both her and Lewis. Anna tried to conceal her excitement, forcing herself into a calm tone as she asked:

“With this, you can cure the rut cycle?”

“Of course not. Rut isn’t a disease. It’s a libido rhythm caused by hormones and pheromones. The suppressant just suppresses the symptoms temporarily. That’s all.”

Anna closed her fingers tightly around the vial. How a lowly intern at a pharma company had gotten his hands on a rut suppressant was beyond her, but it didn’t matter. This was salvation. If Vile Group had developed it, it meant the suppressant might be released publicly soon.

“If Lewis helps find Yoon Siron, you’ll give him this?”

“That’s right.”

“How is Lewis supposed to find Yoon Siron?”

Baek Kyung didn’t answer. The shady look on his face hinted at some kind of calculation, but Anna didn’t press. At the very least, it was worth a try.

“Fine. Lewis is at home righ—”

“There!”

Baek Kyung suddenly cut her off with a shout. He clutched the armrests like he was about to spring from his seat.

“That bastard—Is that your brother?!”

“Huh?”

Anna followed his gaze toward the window. Across the street, in front of the under-construction Curry King, a massive blond man was loitering like an idiot.

“Huh? Wh-What the hell’s he doing here?”

With Anna’s shocked words as confirmation, Baek Kyung shot to his feet and stormed out of the café. He flew down the steps and bolted into the road without caring about traffic, charging straight at Lewis. Before Lewis could react, Baek Kyung yanked him by the shoulder and drove his fist directly into his face.

The moment Baek Kyung’s fist slammed into the center of Lewis’s face, a strange sense of déjà vu overtook him. It felt like this had happened before.

There was a flash of white, like getting struck by lightning. Vertigo swept through his brain, and a beat later came the pain, blooming where he’d been hit. Repeated blows to the head. The rough voice screaming profanity right in his ear. The thudding pulse in his eardrum from surging intracranial pressure. And the scent—the nauseating chemical stench, like burning rubber. Alpha pheromones.

His body, trained by years of boxing, acted on instinct. Aim for the right rib, just under the liver. A solid hit there would cause the liver to balloon from the recoil, knocking the opponent down before they could resist. Go for the weak spot. As punches rained on his temple, Lewis shifted his center of gravity, ducked Baek Kyung’s fist, and slammed a shot into his lower ribs.

“Gkhhh!”

The man gritted his teeth in pain, clutching his side, face pale, gasping for breath.

“Fuck, that hurts.”

“Oh? You’re holding up better than I thought.”

A molten heat surged through Lewis’s brain—a thrill like lava. He grabbed Baek Kyung by the collar and yanked him downward, driving his knee hard into his face.

“Fucking bastard!”

Baek Kyung clutched his bleeding nose, groaning, then suddenly lunged forward. His movements were faster than Lewis’s reaction. He grabbed Lewis by the collar and shoved him back with all his weight.

The glass door of Curry King behind Lewis shattered, and the two men tumbled to the floor inside.

“What! What the hell are you two doing in my shop?!”

They wrestled violently on a pile of broken glass. Ikbal, frozen with shock, couldn’t even think to intervene. Anna arrived moments later, clutching a fire extinguisher.

Without hesitation, she pulled the safety pin and aimed it at the mess. She pressed the handle hard.

With a roar, the white powder burst out like a blizzard, engulfing the two men completely. Covered head to toe, they froze, still gripping each other’s collars, dazed by the shock.

Anna kept spraying. Their faces disappeared in the white cloud, their features no longer visible. When the extinguisher finally ran dry, she tossed it to the ground and screamed with a face drained of all color:

“Fucking alpha bastards, I hope you all drop dead!”

***

Siron came to with a cloth draped over his face. The fabric was thick and suffocating, muting the world around him like a prison cut off from everything.

Warm air, trapped under the cloth, filled the space between his skin and the fabric. Diffused white light—soft, like mist—pulsed through it, flashing and disappearing like headlights from cars on the road.

Road? Cars?

What the hell was happening? Siron tried to move, but realized his body was bound. His arms were tied behind his back, and his torso was strapped tight to a seat.

“Mmm? Ngh! Mmph!”

Trying to scream What the hell?!, Siron realized something was stuffed in his mouth. He struggled, but his upper body wouldn’t budge—locked in place.

Next to him, a deep, low chuckle sounded. The moment he heard it, memories flooded back like a tsunami. The man dragging him into the bushes, climbing on top of him, choking him—it all came crashing in.

Siron froze like a prey animal caught by the throat, terror overtaking him.

“You fell asleep after passing out. You looked so tired, I gave you a blanket.”

Dr. Johnson Rube spoke in a gentle, familiar tone. That calm, everyday voice only made Siron’s fear worse.

The cloth over his head severed all connections to the outside world. The sound of wind from the moving car, the flashes of headlights streaking past, even his own breathing—it all felt like signs of being cut off from reality.

“Hard to believe, but I didn’t plan to kidnap you. I didn’t want things to escalate this quickly.”

Johnson sounded genuinely regretful.

Escalate? Toward what?

Is he taking me to the swamps? To bury me?

Siron felt like he couldn’t breathe. He thrashed, pulling hard against whatever bound his wrists—but all it did was dig tighter into his flesh, deepening the pain.

He realized what it was: a metal cable tie.

What the hell, was this some kind of hardcore hiking trip in the rain? Or maybe camping?

A urologist wearing tactical gear, hiding a folding knife on his thigh and stashing metal cable ties in his chest pocket—that wasn’t normal. Siron had ignored all the red flags, brushed off every warning sign, and made one foolish decision after another to end up here.

As he choked back regret and self-loathing, he heard someone behind him—a low, bitter groan full of despair.

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