Lewis stared at Baek Kyung, dumbfounded.
He wanted to build a real relationship with Yoon Siron—starting with a proper date, a first kiss, and taking each step in order. But some lawless bastard was scheming to skip straight to fucking him.
This piece of shit.
Flaring his nostrils like a bull, Lewis unconsciously bent the knife he was holding in half.
“I don’t need suppressants either.”
“And why the hell not?”
“Because I’m gonna have sex with Yoon Siron too.”
Baek Kyung’s face instantly twisted with menace.
“What? Sex?”
“Yeah! Sex!”
“Fucking hell. Every piece of trash is crawling out now.”
Baek Kyung muttered something in a language Lewis didn’t understand, but there was no mistaking the tone—it was a curse.
Fury surged in Lewis. Without thinking, he hurled the knife at Baek Kyung’s face. It grazed his forehead with a slicing noise, and blood poured down his sharp features.
Baek Kyung wiped the hot blood from above his eye with the back of his hand. When he saw his own blood staining his skin red, he grinned.
“...Ha.”
His eyes glittered with madness as he raised them. Fixing his gaze on Lewis, he slowly reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and dropped two hundred-dollar bills onto the table like he was determined not to repeat the incident at Curry King.
“Come outside.”
Lewis rose without hesitation. He didn’t want to fight, but he definitely wanted to take that arrogant bastard apart, piece by piece.
As the two of them stood up, the other patrons inside the taco bar watched with anxious eyes. If things escalated, someone might even call the local gang that ran Little River.
“You need to learn your place today.”
“You too. Even if you start crying and begging, I’m not letting it slide.”
Baek Kyung pulled the door handle, about to head outside—but something unexpected happened.
The door swung open inward, and a young man in a gray work uniform stumbled into the bar.
“Uh—!”
He bumped into Baek Kyung and rubbed his nose as he looked up—only to recoil in shock at the sight of Baek Kyung’s blood-covered face.
“S-Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
The man quickly lowered his eyes, trying to avoid meeting Baek Kyung’s gaze, and pressed himself flat against the wall to make way.
He was pale, thin, with sunken eyes and a frail build.
Lewis instinctively inhaled. The moment he caught the man’s scent, something familiar hit him like a truck. Beyond sweet—it was shockingly potent, compacted into a sharp strike that raced up his nasal cavity and slammed into his brain.
He grabbed the man’s shoulder roughly and yanked him closer.
“What the hell are you?”
“Wh-What?”
Lewis leaned in, his bruised face inches from the stranger’s.
“I said—what are you?”
“E-Excuse me?”
Lewis pressed his nose close to the man’s face and inhaled deeply.
“You’re hiding something.”
Baek Kyung, sensing the sudden tension in the air, turned around. The moment he saw Lewis inhaling the man’s scent, he immediately understood the situation and moved behind the man to block his escape.
Trapped between them, the man was fully cornered.
“Wh-What’s going on? What do you want from me?”
“Stay still.”
“Hhh—!”
A tense silence fell. Lewis moved slowly, carefully following the source of the scent. He sniffed the crown of the man’s head, then his ears, ignoring the overpowering stink of sweat and grime clinging to his scalp and nape.
He focused more intensely on the man’s chest, then suddenly tilted his head and dropped to his knees.
“Wh-What are you doing?!”
He pressed his nose against the man’s crotch.
Shocked gasps and murmurs filled the taco bar, but Lewis didn’t react. He kept sniffing doggedly, like a hound locked onto prey.
“Y-You’re insane! Why—what are you doing?!”
Inhaling sharply, Lewis froze. He slowly rose, face grave.
“You know Yoon Siron, don’t you?”
“W-What? Who’s that?”
Baek Kyung stepped in. He swiftly held up his phone in front of the man’s face, showing a picture of Siron.
The man’s expression changed instantly.
“I—I don’t know him!”
“You don’t?”
“No! I swear I’ve never seen him before!”
He answered too quickly—like a kid who did something wrong and tried to lie his way out of it.
Baek Kyung and Lewis exchanged a glance.
Lewis wrapped the man in a headlock.
“Alright, you’re coming with us.”
“N-No, please don’t—!”
“Shut up and move.”
Baek Kyung barked and shoved the man outside.
“Help! Someone call the police!”
The man cried out as they dragged him away, but no one followed. No one in the taco bar came out to help.
In this city, where people lived on their own and the police turned a blind eye, no tragedy drew more than a moment’s attention. His voice faded into the noise of the night.
---
“Panty thief. Get moving.”
The man had paused by the wall to catch his breath, but Baek Kyung’s snarl forced him to shuffle forward again.
His slow pace tested Baek Kyung’s patience fast. With his hands in his pockets, Baek Kyung lost it and kicked the man hard in the ass. The guy crumpled pitifully onto the landing, pants slipping down to reveal his pale, bony butt.
“I—I’m going, okay? Please, don’t hit me...”
“Anyone watching might think I’m beating my own damn dog.”
“Y-You did hit me...”
Tears welled in the man’s bruised, swollen eyes as he protested weakly.
“You’re not dead. Quit stalling and get the fuck up before you are.”
Reluctantly, he picked himself up and tugged at his sagging pants. Because the goddamn elevator was still out of order, he had to climb nine flights of stairs under Baek Kyung’s threats, panting with exhaustion.
Lewis followed behind with a paper bag, faint traces of pheromones trailing from within.
Inside the bag was a pair of pale, bluish-white underwear—thin enough that if you pulled it, the fabric would go sheer like nylon. Worn but not torn. A man’s underwear.
More specifically: Yoon Siron’s.
“H-Hah... Th-This is it...”
The man wheezed, out of breath and dizzy, one hand on his knee and the other pointing to a rusty steel door. The room number plate had long since fallen off, replaced by a sloppy number scrawled in black marker.
And from beneath the door, Siron’s pheromones leaked—faint and unmistakable.
“Open it.”
Baek Kyung hauled the man upright.
“I-I live next door. I’m not the owner, I can’t just—”
“Not the owner, but you managed to steal and wear his underwear?”
Baek Kyung’s voice dropped dangerously. The hallway was silent—either everyone was asleep or no one wanted to get involved.
The man looked around helplessly, then finally reached for the keypad.
It was a worn-out electronic lock, at least twenty years old, stained from years of use.
[1, 3, 5, 7, 9, #]
He entered the code. The numbers formed a ‘Z’-shaped pattern on the pad.
Baek Kyung clicked his tongue.
“This idiot. What is it with him and Z’s?”
“Huh... Bébé likes Zs, huh?”
Ignoring Lewis’s pointless remark, Baek Kyung addressed the trembling man.
“When’s the last time you saw the guy who lives here?”
“Yesterday.”
“...Fucking yesterday?”
Baek Kyung grabbed his shoulders and shouted.
“When?!”
“A-Around 11 a.m....”
“Did you see where he went?”
“N-No. I only heard. I—I think he was going on a trip...”
“A trip?”
“He left dragging a suitcase.”
“Unbelievable.”
Baek Kyung roughly rubbed his face like he was trying to peel off his skin and glared at the man, bloodshot eyes full of rage.
“Are you stalking him or something? How the hell do you know so much?”
“T-The walls are thin. I can hear everything...”
“Be honest. You jerk off to the sounds coming from Siron’s place, don’t you?”
“N-No! Never!”
“You serious?”
“Y-Yes! I swear!”
Baek Kyung stared coldly at the man’s overly emphatic denial—then suddenly punched him in the face.
“Kuh—!”
The man hit the floor, holding his face. Baek Kyung kicked him again, then leaned down and waved a fist in his face.
“Go near Yoon Siron again and I will kill you.”
“Y-Yes, I—I understand...”
Whimpering from pain, the man nodded furiously.
Baek Kyung gave him one last glare, fuming like he might explode, and stormed into Siron’s apartment. Lewis, who had watched the whole scene uncomfortably, tilted his head.
Baek Kyung showed no hesitation when using violence. Not every alpha was like that. But this one always seemed ready to burst—like he carried rage inside him, like he’d been tense his entire life.
He didn’t just hit the pervert. He’d done the same to Lewis. Like a man who never looked back.
Can someone like this really be trusted to find Yoon Siron?
If a naturally violent person became an alpha... wouldn’t that be like pouring gasoline on a fire?
Lewis, unsettled, followed Baek Kyung into the apartment.
Of course, Yoon Siron wasn’t there.
But his scent was.
His pheromones were.
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