Part 10. The Alpha’s Confession
From a common-sense standpoint, there was no way to sling a recessive Omega nearly 185 centimeters tall—his abdomen punctured clean through—over one’s shoulder and carry him all the way home. No matter how dominant an Alpha he was, no matter if he was the infamous XXX himself, there were limits to what anyone could do while bleeding profusely from a hole in their stomach. Ji Haesu, who had briefly lost consciousness from blood loss inside the car, panted raggedly and then clenched the steering wheel.
You dare stab me—the one who tried to protect you—with a knife?
The more he thought about it, the affection he felt for Choi Suho twisted and ignited into fury. Acting on that surge of rage, he raised his fist, about to strike Choi Suho, who was bound beside him with cable ties—
“I’m sorry……”
Choi Suho, his wrists bound together with cable ties, was crying as he begged someone shapeless, someone who wasn’t really there.
“I’m sorry for being born……”
At the sight of him tilting his head to the side and mumbling like a child, Ji Haesu’s clenched fist loosened on its own. Even though he knew it wasn’t like him, he wanted to soothe him. He opened his hand and gently stroked Choi Suho’s hair.
Was he still being tormented by them?
I don’t like this. This is exactly why I told you not to go, Suho. Because I knew that the moment you went, you wouldn’t care whether it was me or Do Si-in or anyone else—you’d start doubting your very existence and crumble. I like people collapsing because of me, but I really hate it when they’re destroyed by others.
“Suho.”
“Hhk……”
Seeing Choi Suho react like a mimosa folding its leaves even to his own gentle voice stirred both disgust and affection in him at once. He felt pitiful and wanted to hit him; he wanted to hit him, yet at the same time wanted to hold him tight.
“What am I supposed to do with you, really?”
After stroking his head again and again, Ji Haesu let out a sigh and got out of the car. He could hear Choi Suho desperately mumbling something, but he deliberately ignored it. Now wasn’t the time to indulge Choi Suho’s childish clinging. The spot on his abdomen where Choi Suho had stabbed him was soaked through and throbbing painfully.
Once outside the car, he saw a lonely alley lit by only a single streetlamp. There wasn’t even a pile of trash—an eerie alley where not even stray cats or pigeons lingered. Ji Haesu stared at it with empty eyes, took a step forward, then turned back, suddenly worried. And then, staring at his own unregistered car, he let out a hollow laugh.
Worried? Me, worried? I’m just worried my prey might run away. That’s all.
Muttering to himself as if to hammer it into his own mind, Ji Haesu let himself be swallowed by the unlit alley. Not even moonlight reached inside; he had to navigate using nothing but his five senses.
But the way he had survived until now was closer to that of an instinct-driven beast than a rational human being. Sensing that there was no longer anyone left who might attack him—or, more importantly, Choi Suho—he relaxed. Keeping one hand along the wall on the right side of the alley, he moved forward until his hand brushed against an old iron gate with a sculpted lion’s face. He opened it at once.
Click.
“Who is it?”
At the sound of a gun being cocked—a sound more familiar to him than his homeland’s language—Ji Haesu raised both hands. Then he let out a weak, crooked smile.
“It’s me, Jungjo.”
The moment he answered while swallowing a groan, the gun that had been aimed at his forehead lowered. Jungjo shoved the gun she’d been pointing at his head into his chest and spoke curtly.
“Didn’t I tell you to go to the hospital if you’re injured?”
“Telling someone without a registered family record to go to a hospital is a bit cruel, don’t you think?”
Grumbling as he clutched his punctured abdomen and followed her inside, Ji Haesu heard her click on a headlamp and glance back at him. Her youthful, beautiful face came into view as she spoke in a cold tone.
“You’re Ji Haesu, a Seoul National University graduate student, for now anyway. What’s the problem?”
Ji Haesu smiled with a pale face, having lost too much blood. Seeing that his condition was more serious than she’d expected, Jungjo fell silent for a moment before muttering a curse under her breath. Hearing curses from his homeland for the first time in a while, Ji Haesu chuckled and wrapped his arms around her from behind as he followed her in.
“Ah… this really makes it feel like I’m back home again.”
“Let go. And lie down properly.”
“Yes, yes.”
Ji Haesu lay down on the makeshift bed. Though she had graduated from medical school in their homeland, she’d joined the organization after her parents’ deaths and worked as a doctor in various places. There was no surgery she couldn’t do. Treating a simple stab wound like this was child’s play.
“Do the anesthesia local.”
“…Huh?”
“I’m going to have sex.”
“Are you out of your mind? Sex is forbidden for a while.”
“Unfortunately, this job is a rape case.”
As Jungjo cut away the clothes around the stab wound with medical scissors, she replied coldly.
“When has one of your jobs ever not been rape? They always start with rape, gang rape, and then you go from there—oh my. He really got you good. How did you endure this and make it here?”
“The one I’m raping right now turned into a very pretty Omega.”
When Ji Haesu said it, unable to hold back his laughter, Jungjo’s hands stopped. Having finished cutting away the clothes and administering local anesthesia around the wound, she let out a sigh behind her mask and spoke.
“That bastard really is pure trash. Turning into an Omega in the middle of being raped… and he still has to keep getting raped? Guess it didn’t end with just once.”
“He got pregnant. And then miscarried.”
“Oh my. Trash bastard.”
Jungjo said it in a voice utterly devoid of emotion. In their world, rape happened as easily as breathing, and murder was an everyday occurrence—once every minute, even. The world was overflowing with trash. She wished there were more people to deal with it, but at the same time, having too many of those people would be a problem in itself.
“But there’s a problem.”
After checking whether the anesthesia had taken by pressing around the area, Jungjo flicked her eyes up to look at Ji Haesu. Ji Haesu, apparently thinking of this place as a kind of safe house, looked more relaxed than before as he continued speaking, his posture and gaze noticeably softer.
“I don’t want to make him miscarry.”
“Hm? Why?”
As Jungjo drove a needle threaded with surgical string through the torn flesh, Ji Haesu—feeling no pain—started talking on his own.
“It’s strange, right? For some reason, I don’t want to hurt that guy anymore. I’m certain that if I force a miscarriage, he’ll completely collapse, beyond recovery. He’s already weakened from being hurt so much by people, and if he gets pregnant and then miscarries…”
Ji Haesu’s eyes wavered.
“That’s a lie.”
Jungjo, who was about halfway through stitching him up, said calmly.
“You just want to see the child. The child between that trash and you.”
“What?”
When Ji Haesu shot back as if it were absurd, Jungjo spoke like it was nothing at all.
“You fell in love. Happens when you work long enough—”
“Love? Me? That’s ridiculous. I just dote on him a bit more than other clients. It’s absolutely not love.”
Ji Haesu snapped irritably as he bolted upright. Annoyed, Jungjo slapped him hard on the forehead with her palm, knocking him back down. As Ji Haesu clutched his throbbing forehead and lay back on the bed, she looked at his wound and cursed again in her homeland’s language through clenched teeth.
“Stay still. You’ve started bleeding again!”
“…Really.”
“You’re unbelievable. You feel love for the guy who stabbed you?”
“I told you it’s not that. I’m just fond of him. You know I’ve always liked feisty dogs more.”
Ji Haesu denied it with a calm expression.
Me, in love with Choi Suho? Not wanting a miscarriage because I’m worried he’ll collapse—not because I want to see a child between him and me? Absolutely not.
“I’ve never once fallen in love while doing this work. I’m a businessman who clearly separates business from personal matters, and I—ugh!”
“People always think they’re good at separating work and personal feelings. From where I’m standing, you’re no different right now.”
After swiftly finishing the stitches with smooth, practiced movements and tying them off securely, Jungjo placed gauze over the wound and straightened up. Then she met Ji Haesu’s eyes, put a hand on her hip, and spoke in a different tone than before.
“You’re not some emotionless person, you know. Even if that was true in the past, can you really say it’s still true now? People change.”
“He’s trash. A client who deserves to suffer exactly as much as they want him to—”
But the more he spoke, the more his words trailed off, fading before they could reach the end. Without realizing it, he hesitated, stuttering.
Why?
“He already sounds like a ruined client to me.”
Snorting, Jungjo peeled off her latex gloves and tossed them aside. She pulled down the mask she’d been wearing and crossed her arms as she continued.
“If you can’t even take it as far as the miscarriage the client asked for, then return all the money—including the success fee—and end it now. Then take that guy and try living happily together. That, too, could be a punishment for him, you know? A punishment where he has to keep living and atoning.”
Ji Haesu’s eyebrows twitched as he sat perched on the bed with his massive frame. Jungjo walked up to him, gently caressed his handsome face, and whispered in a low, resonant voice.
“Did you forget, sweetheart? Everyone who’s gone through this kind of thing has either killed themselves or gone insane. Don’t forget—the end is always self-destruction. That’s why you don’t want to force a miscarriage. Because you know that if you do, that kid will kill himself. But if there’s a child? Then he’ll have some reason to keep living…”
“……”
When Ji Haesu fell silent, deep in thought with a serious expression, Jungjo withdrew her hand from his cheek and spoke.
“Anyway, think carefully about your love troubles. You, worrying about romance—it’s surprising.”
“It’s not romance. If this were romance, then what everyone else does would have to be fated love, love that lasts a hundred years. We can’t go ruining other people’s romances.”
Ji Haesu laughed as he said it in a remarkably earnest tone.
“That’s true.”
Jungjo replied flatly.
“It’s one-sided love. From his perspective, wouldn’t this just be another rape?”
Jungjo smiled. As Ji Haesu’s face stiffened, she crossed her arms and added,
“Then shouldn’t you return the money to the client? Either way, his life has been thoroughly ruined because of you.”
