L*st and Death

The alley behind the commercial district was filled with a chilling, desolate cold. The air reeked of lingering marijuana, and trash that had been left to rot for ages spilled out along the uneven pavement. The acrid stench of urine and feces left by junkies and homeless people festered in the air. But amid the filth that stained the streets, there was no trace of Yoon Siron’s pheromones.

It had already been two days since they started looking.

They showed his photo to employees at nearby supermarkets, laundromats, and restaurants around the trolley stop, but all they got were vague acknowledgments—“Yeah, I’ve seen him”—and nothing more. No one knew where he came from. They scoured the entire area Siron might frequent, and even the sketchy, deserted alleys he would never willingly walk through. But they came up empty.

“Nothing? Not even a hint?”

At Baek Kyung’s urging, Lewis sniffed around the pavement near a sleeping homeless man and answered.

“Nothing but rot. No Bébé scent.”

“Unbelievable. Who the hell are you to call Yoon Siron by a nickname?”

“I feel like it.”

“It pisses me off. Stop with the ‘Bébé’ or ‘baby’ shit.”

“You ever smelled Bébé’s pheromones?”

Lewis ignored the warning and shot back. Baek Kyung grumbled, as if reluctant to answer.

“...I told you. I’ve got seasonal rhinitis. I can’t really smell pheromones in the summer.”

“You seriously think rhinitis stops you from detecting pheromones?”

“Yeah. It does for me.”

Blaming it on rhinitis sounded off. While the olfactory sense played a major role in perceiving pheromones, alphas weren’t limited to smell alone. They sensed pheromones with their whole bodies.

Keeping his distance from the homeless man, Baek Kyung muttered mockingly.

“Then what’s your excuse, Mr. Perfect Nose?”

Lewis was wondering the same thing. From Linhart to Curry King, he’d stormed through a monsoon like a heat-addled mantis chasing down the female’s scent. But now, it was like he’d become someone else. He couldn’t feel anything.

“I think I only found him because I was in rut.”

“Rut?”

“I was in heat. That’s probably the only reason I could track him.”

When Lewis casually said “heat,” Baek Kyung’s gaze sharpened.

“You make it sound like Yoon Siron’s a female.”

“I know he’s a man.”

“Then watch your mouth.”

“Still... when you’re drawn to someone, what can you do? It’s like... it goes beyond logic.”

Lewis was the type who expressed interest without hesitation until the other person clearly pushed back. It wasn’t just because he was good-looking—he wasn’t afraid of being laughed at or called a fool. That boldness made him fearless.

Baek Kyung stared at Lewis’s shameless face, his black eyes full of rage.

“So you felt something that ‘goes beyond logic’ and decided to rape him the first time you saw him? What kind of bullshit is that?”

Even Lewis had some shred of conscience. He shut his mouth at Baek Kyung’s words.

Just as the two fell into tense silence and started to walk again, a young junkie stumbled past them. Once the man had gone some distance, Baek Kyung muttered bitterly.

“Of all places to live, that psycho Yoon Siron picks this dump. It’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

The dingy alley was full of filthy vagrants. They lay sprawled across the pavement like stagnant, untreated sewage—or used condoms tossed aside. It was a scene you’d never find in Linhart, where police routinely patrolled the streets.

“Linhart’s not safe because the cops do their job better.

It’s safe because the second someone calls in a vagrant, the police drag them off and dump them somewhere else.

That’s why fucking Linhart has good security.”

Anna had said it long ago, her face twisted in mixed emotions. Behind the calm of uptown districts like Linhart, where Lewis lived, was the ugly truth: vagrants forcibly displaced by the police into the slums.

During his house arrest, Lewis had made a habit of watching the local news. But the news only ever covered development projects north of the Nathan River and complaints about understaffed police departments. Crime in the danger zones was never mentioned. Stories from these back alleys didn’t fit the city’s glorious narrative of growth and prosperity. Even if a person or two went missing here, no one would come looking.

“That’s... horrifying.”

Baek Kyung raised an eyebrow.

“What is?”

“There’s just... so many junkies and homeless people. It’s like the city’s on the verge of collapse.”

“Typical for you white boys.”

Lewis clenched his fists, resisting the violent urge to smash Baek Kyung’s jaw into fragments so he could spend the rest of his life drinking through a straw. But causing a scene here would only attract attention—and that was dangerous.

“This place is useless. Let’s move.”

Baek Kyung sighed from a few steps behind.

“What? Afraid you’ll get shot?”

Though Baek Kyung was mocking him, Lewis admitted it without hesitation.

“Yeah. What’s the point of dying before I even find my baby?”

Even their size wouldn't help against a teenager with a gun. They’d gotten lucky so far, but luck didn’t last forever.

“We should come back in daylight.”

With that, Lewis turned and walked out of the alley without looking back. Baek Kyung muttered something in a foreign language behind him—definitely a curse—but he ignored it. Only after emerging onto the better-lit main road did Lewis finally release the tension in his shoulders.

It was past 10 PM. The main street wasn’t exactly safe, but it was better than the alleys. After walking nonstop for two days and living on nothing but sandwiches, they were starving. Fortunately, there was a restaurant still open nearby—a taco bar serving Mexican-style food and drinks.

“I’ll take everything from here to here.”

Lewis grimaced at Baek Kyung’s caveman-like ordering, but then shrugged. Who cared.

He’d once had strict rules—no alcohol or late-night snacks after 7 p.m., and four hours of training daily. But after becoming an alpha, none of that seemed necessary. Even without workouts, his muscle mass increased. His altered body burned an insane amount of energy just by breathing, like a fuel that wouldn’t stop burning until everything was consumed.

And now, aside from being hungry, he didn’t even feel tired. Just starving—almost mad with it.

“Tone down your pheromones.”

Baek Kyung, sitting diagonally across, grimaced as Lewis’s scent filled the air.

“You said you couldn’t smell with your rhinitis.”

“It’s so strong it’s burning through my nose.”

There were plenty of things Lewis hated about being an alpha. But if he had to pick one small annoyance, it was the pheromones. All he’d felt was a gnawing hunger, but his body had started releasing sharp, aggressive pheromones on its own.

Thankfully, the food came quickly, despite the huge order. A server brought over enough for ten adult men. As soon as he left, Lewis stacked three quesadilla slices like a sandwich and wolfed them down, washing it with soda.

“How’d you become an alpha?”

Lewis asked casually. Baek Kyung scowled—he hated digging into the past.

He bit into a taco drenched in chili sauce and chewed in silence before finally replying.

“Brain surgery failed.”

“Accident?”

“No. Tumor. It was at the skull base—hard to operate on.”

In short, the surgery had botched, and he’d ended up brain-dead.

Lewis polished off three more quesadilla slices in seconds, then shared his own story with equal detachment.

“Car accident.”

He said it like it was nothing, but a shadow darkened his face. If not for that crash, he wouldn’t have become an alpha. He might’ve taken the next step in his acting career.

“Those suppressants... do they let you live normally?”

“Yeah.”

“When will they be released to the public?”

“Maybe within five years.”

“Fuck.”

Lewis ran a hand through his bangs, forcing himself to stay calm.

“Yeah. Better late than never, I guess. Don’t want to be rutting around as a damn old man.”

He caught something subtle in Baek Kyung’s face. Like a ripple across still water, his words had triggered something.

“...Ha.”

Baek Kyung’s dry chuckle got under Lewis’s skin.

“What’s so fucking funny?”

“You really think you’ll live to be middle-aged? Or old?”

“What, you think I’ll get shot in heat and die in a ditch somewhere?”

“Judging by your track record? Not impossible.”

Lewis shut his mouth. He couldn’t argue. He didn’t remember it clearly, but he had done something that could’ve gotten him arrested on the spot. Still, more than anything, he didn’t want to be gunned down as a rapist.

“How many suppressants you got left?”

“Six months’ worth.”

“Sell them to me.”

Baek Kyung, having devoured his entire meal, wiped his mouth with a napkin and stared at Lewis. Some calculation was turning in his mind. Leaning back against his chair, he spoke with mock generosity.

“You don’t have to pay. You want them? They’re yours.”

Lewis blinked, surprised by the offer.

“You don’t need them?”

“I don’t use that shit. I’m going to have sex with Yoon Siron.”

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