L*st and Death

Lewis, frozen in a mix of shock and confusion, asked cautiously.

“...Wait, is that why Gezar’s in prison?”

“Yeah. Gezar Bazelli killed his partner, Dr. Yuri Berec.”

Gezar Bazelli. The name sounded oddly familiar, and just as Lewis opened his mouth, Baek Kyung jumped in first.

“Isaac Bazelli is their son. As of now, he’s the only one who knows the whereabouts of Dr. Yuri Berec’s research journal. Look here.”

On the screen of Baek Kyung’s phone was a screenshot from a clinical trial brokerage site. It listed a call for male participants aged 20 to under 35, specifically those with sexual dysfunction but within normal weight range. What caught Lewis’s eye was the location of the trial.

“Johnson Urology Clinic? That’s Bazelli’s clinic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. On the surface, it’s a typical pharmaceutical trial. But in reality, it was an experiment to turn Betas into carriers of new traits.”

“Carriers... You mean they’re making Alphas?”

“Not Alphas. It’s...”

Baek Kyung let out a groaning sound, as if just shy of cursing, and licked his cracked lips.

“This isn’t working. First, we need to set the hierarchy straight.”

Lewis shut his eyes tight. At this crucial moment, Baek Kyung was wasting time on irrelevant bullshit. He exhaled through his lips, pushing away his irritation, and managed to calm himself enough to speak in a steady voice.

“What the hell do you even want? Who the hell do you think you are to start bossing me around?”

“Shut it. I’ve told you repeatedly. There are roles that those above and below should follow. The ones below need to show proper respect to their elders. I get that a rootless, cultureless Yank like you doesn’t understand what that means.”

“...What?”

“You’re younger than me and lacking—no, just plain inferior. So from now on, you’ll call me ‘hyungnim’ and treat me with the respect I deserve. Got it?”

Lewis clenched his jaw so hard his molars ached. A wave of fury swept over him, and for a moment everything around him faded to white. This ridiculous hierarchy bullshit, the obsession with seniority just because of a few years’ difference, the mouth that spat casual slurs like breathing, the racism flung around like air—it was all too much. Lewis forced himself to scrape together the last shreds of his patience and glared at Baek Kyung with burning eyes.

“Fine. Hyungnim. So, can we get to the fucking point now?”

“Hoo. Fine. Keep it in mind. I'm telling you all this because we need to find Yoon Siron.”

Baek Kyung began to explain the theory of an Omega who had evolved genetically like an Alpha, who secreted pheromones that chemically interacted with Alphas, and who could cure hereditary Alpha disorders. Every word he spoke sounded like it was torn from his flesh. As if the act of sharing this information with Lewis was unbearable.

At the same time, Lewis realized why Bebe’s pheromones had sharpened all his senses to a painful edge, and why Baek Kyung had tried so hard to control the flow of information. Any Alpha would have. If all Alphas wanted the Omega, they would monopolize information, spread false leads, manipulate public knowledge however they could—because the last thing they wanted was more competition.

“How does an Omega cure Alpha disorders?”

At Lewis’s question, Baek Kyung opened his mouth like he’d forgotten how to speak.

“That’s...”

After a long pause, Baek Kyung finally continued.

“If you behave and listen to hyungnim, I’ll tell you later.”

What a load of shit. There was no way Baek Kyung would ever willingly tell Lewis. He’d make up excuses just to withhold it. But it didn’t matter. Lewis was only twenty-five. Death still felt like a distant thing. Even if Baek Kyung’s warning was real and his internal timer would run out, it wouldn’t be for another decade. Right now, all that mattered was getting his hands on Yoon Siron.

His palm was already damp with sweat. He could hear his own breathing and heartbeat pounding in his ears. Like a sprinter at the starting line, every fiber of his being pointed toward the finish line named Siron.

“So until we find Siron, we form a temporary alliance. Got it?”

Baek Kyung’s long explanation finally boiled down to a single offer.

“Yeah. Truce stays until we find Bebe.”

But the tension between the two would never fade. Like a Western showdown under the clocktower, two men with hands hovering over their holsters, waiting for the bell to ring.

And then, before Lewis could even finish speaking, Baek Kyung’s phone cut through the silence with a sharp ring. Both men’s eyes snapped toward it like gunfire. The call was from an unfamiliar number.

“Don’t even think about it. Put it on speaker right now.”

So much for ‘temporary alliance’—the bastard was already trying to sneak off the moment a chance came. As Baek Kyung moved to take the call away from Lewis, he was swiftly warned.

“Fuck off. Got it.”

After days of spam calls raising and crushing his hopes, Baek Kyung’s body went rigid with tension. He exhaled a shaky breath and pressed the answer button.

“Um... is this Kyung’s phone, by any chance?”

Baek Kyung froze like he’d been struck by lightning. Maybe he’d searched too desperately for Siron. His throat shrank, his tongue ballooned like a balloon, and words wouldn’t come out.

“...Hello? Hah, maybe I got the wrong number?”

“...Ha...”

“Hello? Is this Baek Kyung’s phone?”

“Ugh—fuck! Where are you right now!”

There was a beat of silence from the other end of the call. Then, after a few seconds of dead air, an angry voice snapped back.

“Fucking asshole! Why are you screaming curses the moment you pick up?! Fuck off!”

The call disconnected. Baek Kyung stared blankly at the call screen before letting out a strangled scream and collapsing to his knees. He clutched the phone in both hands, frantic, and dialed again. As the call tone rang on and on, his sunburnt face drained into a sickly gray.

“...Hello—”

“I won’t say shit! Okay?! Just tell me where you are!”

“...”

“Where are you?!”

A long silence followed. The heavy breathing on the other end was thick with suppressed emotion.

“You’re still looking for me?”

“Yes! Fuck—what kind of question is that?! I’m coming for you! Where are you?”

Siron couldn’t speak right away. Even his breaths sounded like he was struggling to hold back emotion. Finally, as if making up his mind, Siron answered.

“Secreta National Park. The abandoned grey motel in Bethel Village. Come pick me up. Got that memorized?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Alright then... see you when you get here. I borrowed this phone, so I need to return it. Bye!”

As Siron abruptly hung up, Baek Kyung exhaled a deep sigh of relief—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever. But then he stiffened. The moment he’d heard Siron’s voice, all other thoughts had been blown away—but now reality returned.

There was another man next to him. Another man who had been chasing Siron just like he was. A man who’d just forged a temporary truce with him, swearing not to betray each other until they found Siron.

Should’ve just kept my fucking mouth shut. Couldn’t stand five minutes of despair without babbling like a lunatic? Fucking loose-lipped idiot.

Grinding his teeth in self-directed fury, Baek Kyung reached toward the cold metal at his hip. He planned to strike Lewis in the shoulder and disable him. Since the call had been in Korean, Lewis likely hadn’t understood much. If Baek Kyung left him deep in the mountains, he’d never find Siron again. Never see him again in this godforsaken city of Baggers.

Baek Kyung’s hand slid toward the rifle grip like it was second nature—but then the sound of a bolt being drawn echoed behind his head.

Baek Kyung froze and turned slowly, like a rusted machine. Lewis stood there, aiming the barrel of his gun directly at Baek Kyung’s skull, eyes full of scorn.

“Back. Don’t even think about it. You won’t die clean.”

---

X64-746-4666.

An ominous number, with three of the devil’s number, 6. It was Baek Kyung’s phone number.

When they reunited after four years and he gave Siron that number, Siron never imagined he’d actually end up dialing it.

The fact that just hearing Baek Kyung’s voice had made his throat tighten—he really must have gone through hell since leaving home. There was no other explanation for the sense of relief he’d felt when Baek Kyung said he’d been searching for him all this time.

“Thanks for letting me use your phone.”

Siron let his shoulders relax and exhaled a breath of relief, then turned his head. Sitting in the driver’s seat, watching him with concern, was a middle-aged woman with a kind face and messy gray hair tied back in a rough ponytail.

She was a deeply compassionate person. Even though Siron looked like a deranged vagrant in a ripped and filthy dress, wandering barefoot under the scorching midday sun, she had let him into her car without a second thought.

“Was it resolved? Someone’s coming to pick you up?”

She took the phone from Siron and asked with genuine concern, clearly interested in his call.

“Ah, yes. He said he’s coming.”

“Well, that’s a relief... I guess.”

She looked at him in silence, as if there were more she wanted to say. But her reason for stopping the car hadn’t been driven solely by pity. It was also because, even dressed in that ragged old dress with a blank, haunted expression, the man walking down the road had been—unexpectedly—so heartbreakingly beautiful that it had softened her heart.

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