L*st and Death

The woman kept stealing glances at the man beside her as she drove. Through the torn seams of the dress, glimpses of his pelvis were visible. He wasn’t wearing any underwear—bare skin flashed every so often. And yet, instead of looking like some kind of pervert for walking around in just a dress, the sight provoked an oddly strong protective instinct.

Holding her breath slightly, she stifled a creeping worry. There was no doubt in her mind—he had clearly been abused by someone. Forcing herself to block out the train of thought that was drifting into sexual territory, she asked:

“Should I stay with you until the person you called arrives?”

“Haah... Rebecca, I’m losing it.”

The man’s voice trembled with emotion as he looked up at her with a moved expression. The sentiment came off a bit theatrical, which made her suspicious—but the tears in his eyes made her think he was probably just the kind of young man who expressed pain artistically.

“Just giving me a ride is more than enough. You even lent me money and shoes. I’d feel really guilty if I asked for anything more. Really—I’m okay.”

“I mean, I could also take you to the nearest police station...”

Siron smiled faintly, a quiet sadness beneath it, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Really, Rebecca. I’m fine. I want to be someone who can help others the way you helped me.”

Rebecca offered to help again and again, clearly desperate to do more—but Siron turned her down each time with soft, unwavering politeness.

The mention of a police station made his shoulders shrink. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the police. It was just the thought of having to explain everything from beginning to end that made him want to collapse. No one would believe what he’d been through. He was sure of it.

During the ride, he picked up bits of local information. The place was a village called Bethel, tucked along the edge of Secreta National Park. Once bustling with tourists, it had faded into decline. Now only a few residents remained, selling food and souvenirs to the rare visitors who still passed through.

Siron got out at the village’s only bus stop. He didn’t move until the woman’s car had fully disappeared from sight. Once she was gone, he started walking. There was a building he’d picked out as a rendezvous spot while riding in the car—a two-story structure painted gray, with the word “CLOSED” scrawled boldly across its outer wall. An abandoned motel.

Once he arrived and confirmed no one else was around, Siron climbed carefully through a shattered window into a room on the second floor. Since the village was mostly elderly and the younger people had left, even the vagrants seemed to avoid the closed-down motel. It was dusty, but surprisingly clean.

Siron didn’t hesitate before lying down on the old, dust-covered bed. There was no telling when—or even if—Baek Kyung would arrive today. But for now, he just wanted to fall into a deep sleep and forget everything. The moment he closed his eyes, though, Isaac’s voice echoed through his head.

“Don’t come out!”

Even as explosions and gunfire tore through the ground above, Isaac had shouted those words. That was why, even after waking up from the gas, Siron had stayed in the basement as long as he could. In the darkness, time lost all meaning. Straining to catch any sound from above, he had drifted in and out of sleep, hovering on the edge of wakefulness.

Eventually, driven by overwhelming hunger, he climbed back up to the surface. The broken pillars barely held up the collapsed ceiling, and dim sunlight filtered through the cracks, illuminating the dust-filled room with a pale haze. On the ground, thick, dried blood had congealed into dark crimson patches, radiating a vile stench.

The room he had never been allowed to enter seemed to have suffered a more direct blast. Cabinets were torn apart and warped beyond repair. He hoped to find shoes, money, communication devices—hell, even underwear—but it was all empty.

Outside the building, it was no better. The forest was reduced to ash, blood pooled and dried in splotches, insects swarming over it. And it was too quiet. The chaotic past had gone still. Now, only Siron’s breath and footsteps echoed through the woods.

That’s when Siron finally accepted it.

Isaac was gone.

The way he vanished, so suddenly, without a trace... It was like someone had ripped the last page out of a novel before the ending.

From that moment on, Siron hadn’t felt hunger. It was as if the organ responsible for sensing his body had been left behind in the mountain.

His gaze rested on the blank ceiling. His eyelids began to droop. Slowly, Siron sank into sleep, letting go of consciousness. Some hours passed.

Then, the air changed. The density of the room shifted, and a thick gaze settled on his skin.

“Siron.”

With effort, Siron pried open his heavy eyelids. The room was bathed in bluish dusk. He couldn’t tell if it was early evening or the first light of dawn. Still groggy, his mind tried to process the familiar voice.

“Lying there with your bare ass out like some slut—what the hell are you doing?”

A gruff voice came from behind him. Still half-asleep, lying on his side, Siron slowly turned his head toward the sound.

“...Bare ass? What...?”

Even in his drowsiness, that particular phrase grated on him. Reflexively responding, Siron’s eyes flew open. Baek Kyung was standing by the bed with his arms crossed, staring down at Siron’s lower body with a look of strange amusement. Siron’s face went beet red as he fumbled to pull down the dress that had ridden up past his navel.

“Wh-what are you looking at?! Get out!”

“You fucking pervert! Why are you staring?!”

“Unbelievable. You’re this obscene even in your sleep. You really are... ‘Urethral Plug Siron.’ Shocking. Absolutely shocking.”

“No! It’s not like that!”

“Not like that? What the hell were you doing, going commando like—”

Baek Kyung was ready to keep teasing him, but the words died in his throat. The abuse Siron must have suffered hit him like a gut punch. He had no idea how Siron ended up an omega. How he’d been kidnapped, locked up, forced to escape. How many miserable days he must’ve wandered, wearing that ridiculous dress without even underwear.

He couldn’t even feed the damn kid? That bastard should be ground up and drunk like juice.

Seeing Siron—half the size he’d been just a few weeks ago—made something in Baek Kyung’s chest go cold. That piece of shit Isaac hadn’t even given him underwear. That “rut-loving hedonist” probably inflicted every form of sexual abuse imaginable. Just imagining it made Baek Kyung feel like he’d lose all self-control.

“He probably has a reason for not wearing any... Ha. Something must’ve happened.”

“Want me to give you mine?”

“What the fuck? No, thank you.”

Even though Siron snapped at him, Baek Kyung couldn’t let it go. He started to unbuckle his pants, thinking he’d rather give Siron his own underwear than let him stay like that.

“...W-who are you?”

Suddenly, Siron whispered in a choked voice, panic laced in every syllable. Following his gaze, Baek Kyung turned toward the door.

Louis stood there, peeking inside from the doorway.

“I told you to wait outside!”

At Baek Kyung’s roar, Louis looked like he’d back off—then he shoved the door wide open and stepped in.

Siron recoiled, crawling to the edge of the bed in fear as the large stranger approached, his heavy steps compressing the air with every movement. Shoving past Baek Kyung, Louis stepped closer, face flushed.

“U-uh...”

The stranger stared at Siron like he was burned into his retinas. Cautiously, he extended his hand. In it was a small ziplock bag.

“Do you... need underwear?”

“...What?”

“I brought some. Ah! And clothes too.”

Louis quickly dropped his backpack onto the bed and pulled out the ziplock. Inside were a t-shirt, a pair of light beige cotton shorts, four white briefs, and two navy ones. Siron recognized them instantly. An eerie familiarity crept over his face.

“...These are mine.”

“Yeah. Be—hahaha, they’re yours.”

Louis laughed, flustered, his face flushed red. It was the kind of awkward, exaggerated laugh you’d expect from a circus bear trying to act cute. But to Siron, the man’s uninvited familiarity was disturbing.

“...You perverted freak. So you were always sniffing my underwear?”

“...Sniffing what?”

Siron, who had begun pulling the clothes into his space, stopped and stared, horrified.

“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t sniff them!”

Louis frantically waved his hands, his whole face red with shame. There was something about his face and voice that seemed... familiar.

“Your scent just... calms me down, that’s all. So I kept them. But I never sniffed your underwear! I figured you’d hate that...”

He answered like he was desperate to prove his innocence. He even looked at Baek Kyung as if he were being falsely accused.

But the moment he packed Siron’s underwear in a bag and carried it around—he was a panty thief, plain and simple. Siron scowled, overwhelmed and alarmed, eyes darting over the man.

He was enormous—his shoulders broad enough to block the doorframe. His voice resonated like velvet, low and soft. His face was heartbreakingly beautiful, like some actor who’d died in a car crash.

A guy like this... was the one stealing his underwear?

Disgusted, Siron turned to Baek Kyung.

“Who the hell is this?”

Baek Kyung replied with a face like he’d bitten into a bug.

“This bastard’s from Curry King.”

“Huh? ...A customer?”

“Customer my ass. Don’t you remember?”

Baek Kyung leaned down and placed a hand on Siron’s shoulder. His wet eyes locked with Louis’s.

“He’s the alpha who almost raped you.”

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