Ho Munbeom.
He was a man whose name alone was enough for introduction in South Korea. After all, he was the heir apparent to Ho Moon Group, one of the country’s major conglomerates.
Ho Jaejung, the chairman of Ho Moon Group, seemed deeply impressed by his grandson who had presented as an extreme alpha at birth. He stared endlessly at the tiny infant before deciding on a name that added the character “beom” (meaning tiger) to his family’s group name that he had spent his lifetime building.
Ho Munbeom spent his adolescence abroad and remained there even after becoming an adult, taking responsibility for Ho Moon Group’s overseas expansion and investments. From a young age, he demonstrated business acumen and good fortune. A simple search of his name would yield extensive information.
Then, early last year, rumors began circulating about the critical condition of Ho Jaejung, Ho Munbeom’s grandfather and the chairman of Ho Moon Group. Ho Munbeom, who had lived abroad for nearly twenty years, immediately returned to Korea. From that moment, a succession of arranged meetings for Ho Munbeom began.
It would be no exaggeration to say that every omega considered a “top-tier spouse candidate” – from well-known celebrities to those renowned for their beauty and talent – had an arranged meeting with Ho Munbeom.
This wasteful and meaningless ritual had continued for a year. Meeting once a week with all sorts of famous and prestigious omegas in the country had generated articles filled with envy, jealousy, and slander directed at Ho Munbeom, but even those had quieted down. Now everyone just hoped for Ho Munbeom’s match to appear as soon as possible.
No matter how wealthy, extremely alpha, or talented one might be, in South Korea, no one could escape the constraints of marriage.
Ho Munbeom was 33 years old this year. While he was the best groom candidate of marriageable age, he was simultaneously the worst match for the omegas attending these meetings.
Nothing progresses when the person involved has no intention of participating.
Initially, Ho Munbeom maintained some level of courtesy, but after about a year, his true nature began to emerge. He would arrive late, only to sit briefly before leaving, or he would handle work on his phone during the meetings.
For omegas raised in good families, Ho Munbeom’s behavior was extremely insulting. Beyond feeling offended, they often blushed with humiliation.
Regardless, Ho Munbeom began using these meetings as extensions of dinner or work appointments, and occasionally stood up his dates without notice.
Today seemed like it would be no different.
“…”
Yeonwoo shifted his gaze from the empty chair across from him, which had been vacant for 30 minutes.
The initial nervousness he felt at this luxurious restaurant, a place he had never visited before, had subsided. The half-full water glass was now empty, and the manager who had offered assistance was nowhere to be seen.
Things he hadn’t noticed while nervous began to catch his attention as time passed. No matter how you looked at it, he was being neglected. Though he hadn’t had particular expectations for this meeting, he still felt strange.
Yeonwoo shifted his gaze to the empty glass. He hoped his reflection didn’t show disappointment or depression.
I’ll wait just a little longer before leaving.
He had taken a taxi to get here, but decided he would take a bus or subway back home. As he mentally traced the transit routes, he rubbed beneath his eyes, feeling fatigue washing over him.
Once he touched it, it became itchier. He thought he shouldn’t rub too hard, but continued to rub under his eyes anyway, eventually pressing his palm firmly against them. Maybe he should just wash his face instead.
“Have you been crying?”
“…”
The hand pressing against his eyes trembled slightly.
Swallowing his breath, Yeonwoo slowly raised his head to look up at the man standing beside him, thinking, “No way…”
He was incredibly tall. Feeling like a solid wall had been erected beside him, Yeonwoo slowly exhaled the breath he’d been holding and stared at the other person’s face.
Before coming here, he thought he had researched everything there was to know about the alpha named Ho Munbeom, including what he looked like, but apparently not. The man in person was incomparable to his photos or videos. As Yeonwoo’s chest rose and fell dramatically from the man’s unique intimidating presence, he recalled what the man had just said to him.
“…My eyes were itchy,” he replied in an unimpressive voice.
He felt he should properly explain that his eyes were just suddenly itchy and he wasn’t crying, but the words wouldn’t come out. It seemed that no matter what he said, he couldn’t escape this awkward atmosphere.
As Yeonwoo awkwardly averted his gaze, Ho Munbeom’s eyes shifted sideways.
This match was young, thin, and pale. Even in his flustered state, his posture remained impeccably straight. Ho Munbeom observed in sequence the reddened earlobe, the fine hair swept behind it, and the side profile staring at the table before he moved his body.
He sat down in his seat, where he should have been 36 minutes ago.
“I apologize. I was working and lost track of time.”
“…That can happen when you’re working.”
Even as he responded, Yeonwoo couldn’t believe Ho Munbeom was sitting across from him.
When the wait had passed 20 minutes, he had been certain he’d been stood up. That’s why he had been figuring out how to get back home.
Though late, his match had appeared—so would they proceed with the meeting? Was he really having an arranged meeting with THE Ho Munbeom? Yeonwoo raised his head in a daze and, confirming the expressionless face he had first seen, quickly averted his gaze.
This moment was more difficult and suffocating than he had anticipated.
Just then, the manager approached and refilled his empty glass. Raising his head at the sound of water being poured, Yeonwoo saw the manager flash a picture-perfect smile before immediately turning to Ho Munbeom.
“Executive Director, how would you like to proceed with the meal?”
At the manager’s question, Ho Munbeom looked at Yeonwoo.
“Will you be eating?”
“…”
Even a fool would understand the intent behind this question.
Yeonwoo shook his head and answered, “No, thank you.” He thought he heard his stomach growl faintly, but the sound was very slight. Hoping the man hadn’t heard the sound that coincided with his answer, Yeonwoo added:
“I’m fine.”
“I see.”
With that response, the manager informed them to call if they needed anything and left.
The manager had definitely been more respectful and cautious with Ho Munbeom than with himself. Well, it was Ho Munbeom after all. How many people could hold their heads high in front of him?
He had thought he might leave without even seeing his face, so should he consider it fortunate that this wasn’t the case?
When his father contacted him, he could at least say he managed to see the man’s face. Or maybe not—his father might scold him for only seeing the face and coming back. Should he instead say he was stood up? But what if his lie was discovered?
Yeonwoo found the man sitting across from him difficult and uncomfortable.
No matter where he looked, the man filled his vision. His omega instincts were drawn to this perfect and attractive alpha. His previously calm heart began beating faster, and his body temperature rose. Despite his desperate attempt to maintain composure, all of Yeonwoo’s senses were directed toward the alpha across from him. Feeling his body growing hotter, Yeonwoo exhaled softly.
“What’s your name?”
“…”
Yeonwoo raised his head. When their eyes met, he realized the man truly didn’t know his name. Even though they were meeting for an arranged date. Suddenly recalling the exhaustion this man must feel after countless meetings over the past year, Yeonwoo’s lips moved.
“Lee Yeonwoo.”
After stating his name rather clearly, Yeonwoo again averted his gaze. At this behavior, a thin wrinkle formed between Ho Munbeom’s brows.
Since arriving at the restaurant, Ho Munbeom’s gaze hadn’t left the young omega. The omega, whose cheeks still had a hint of baby fuzz, had been constantly avoiding his gaze. Unnaturally so.
While called an “arranged meeting,” it was really a place to assess each other’s marketability. Unlike the counterparts who appeared once and disappeared, Ho Munbeom had been doing this for a year already. At this rate, one might think they’d run out of omegas, yet the chair’s occupant was filled every week.
Initially, he had maintained some courtesy, but now he didn’t even want to bother. It had been nearly two months since he’d stopped checking the names or faces of his counterparts. In a normal arranged meeting, the other person would have long since risen in displeasure.
Among them were those who tried to feign disinterest to attract Ho Munbeom’s attention. At first, he wondered if Yeonwoo was one of those types. Because if he truly wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t be subtly emitting pheromones like this.
Then Ho Munbeom shifted his gaze to Yeonwoo’s neck and cheeks, which were growing increasingly red.
“…”
The eyes that had been avoiding Ho Munbeom were tense with nervousness. Even the most talented actor might find it difficult to deliberately create such an expression. Suddenly, he recalled the pale, slender hand that had been pressing against his eyes earlier.
The thin double-lidded eyes beneath that hand were large and round. Below them, a straight nose and plump, red lips harmonized well. Beauty. An omega anyone would consider as such.
Feeling a slight thirst, Ho Munbeom’s lips moved again.
“How old are you?”
“…I’m 21.”
“I see.”
For someone who had initiated asking about name and age, his tone suggested he wasn’t particularly interested.
