Kang Tae-yi’s brow furrowed at the unexpected answer.
“You were in debt too?”
Feigning the same shameless “fugitive from debt collectors” setup he’d used, Tae-yi questioned Da Haram. But Haram shook his head and replied weakly.
“No, I paid it all off… But they keep coming every day to pressure me into selling the peanut field.”
“The peanut field?”
Why the hell would a debt collector be after a peanut field? He was about to ask more, but the sound of someone violently pounding on the gate forced Haram to trudge toward the front door. As soon as Haram stepped outside, Tae-yi moved toward the window facing the yard.
The gate was diagonally across from the window. From there, he could see Haram—and a broad-shouldered man standing in front of him, waving a scrap of paper. Haram’s tail was stiff, his expression laced with clear irritation—or rather, exhaustion.
They seemed to argue for a while, then the debt collector raised his hand, pointing and yelling. Haram flinched and threw his arms up in an X to shield himself. Watching all this, Tae-yi’s face was a mask of icy calm. He turned and walked toward the kitchen—slowly.
***
“Haaah…”
Haram heaved a sigh deep enough to shake the earth as he stepped back inside. Noticing Tae-yi still in the living room, he blinked in surprise.
“You’re not asleep?”
“No. I’m heading out to exercise.”
“Exercise?”
Exercise—at dawn, before the sun was even up? As Haram looked up at him, confused, Tae-yi smiled and replied,
“I’ve gained weight. This squirrel feeds me too well.”
Whether fully awake now or not, Haram let out a soft smile and nodded.
“Okay. Be careful with your arm.”
His tail, which had been hanging low after the confrontation, perked up slightly and swayed side to side at Tae-yi’s compliment. Tae-yi caught the movement and let out a short laugh before heading for the door.
The front door closed behind him. Haram headed to the kitchen, pulled out the cutting board, and began prepping to cook breakfast—but something felt off.
“Where’s the knife…?”
The kitchen knife, always kept in the knife rack, was missing.
***
As soon as he stepped through the gate, Tae-yi spotted a black sedan rolling slowly down the dirt slope, kicking up dust. Breathing in the crisp morning air, he exhaled—and then sprinted down the hill.
As he closed in on the car, he pulled a kitchen knife from his waistband and stabbed it straight into the trunk lid. The sedan jolted violently to a stop.
The debt collector jumped out of the driver’s seat, face twisted in a snarl.
“What the fuck?! Are you insane? You drunk or something?!”
Still standing beside the car, the knife buried in the trunk, Tae-yi didn’t flinch. The man stormed toward him, jabbing a pudgy finger in his face and pulling a cheap jackknife from his pocket with unsteady hands.
“You better get that knife off my car!”
Tae-yi stared at the jackknife for a beat, then calmly set his kitchen knife on the trunk. In a flash, he snatched the jackknife out of the man’s hand.
The debt collector stood there blinking, lips flapping like a fish. His only weapon, gone in an instant.
Tae-yi folded the jackknife like it had always been his and slipped it into his pocket. He stepped forward.
The man had to crane his neck just to meet his gaze, and as Tae-yi approached, he began to retreat instinctively.
“Wh-What the hell…”
Before he could finish, Tae-yi’s large hand grabbed his collar. The raw strength around his neck left no room to resist. He was dragged like a rag doll and shoved into the backseat. Tae-yi got in after him.
“Wh-what the hell are you doing?!”
The debt collector, now sprawled in the backseat, shouted in panic. Tae-yi pulled the jackknife from his pocket and pressed it to the man’s neck.
“Sit still.”
“P-please! Don’t kill me!”
Once he realized what was happening, the man began to flail, kicking his legs against the opposite door. Tae-yi let out a sigh of pure annoyance, climbed fully into the backseat, and pressed a knee into the man’s stomach.
“Shut the hell up.”
He’d spent the past few days listening to Haram’s constant chatter, his innocent laughter, the peaceful sounds of nature. This loud, desperate screaming grated on him. No—it disgusted him.
Tae-yi’s low voice, thick with warning, echoed through the car. And the jackknife—once his—now pressed to his throat. The man’s mouth went dry.
“What’s with the peanut field?”
The sudden mention made the man’s pupils quiver. He glanced up at the man straddling him and stammered awkwardly,
“Y-you know Haram?”
“You close with him?”
As soon as Haram’s name came up, Tae-yi’s icy expression shifted. The man, seeing that change, hurriedly nodded.
“Y-yes! We’re close! Real close!”
“Oh, so that’s why.”
Tae-yi muttered to himself, then slapped the man across the face. It wasn’t even a punch—just a flat-handed smack—but it rang out loud in the car.
The man groaned, jaw slack as if it had been knocked out of alignment. Tae-yi stared down at him and raised his hand again. Now with a bloody nose running freely, the debt collector pleaded in a panic.
“Please, please! I don’t know why you’re doing this!”
Stabbing his car? Slapping him around? It made no sense.
“Why’d you try to hit him?”
Tae-yi explained, generously, why the man was getting beaten. But despite the explanation, confusion clouded the man’s swollen face.
“M-me?! I never—!”
Whack!
Another punch, this time to the cheek, full of thick flesh. The pain was so sharp and unfamiliar he couldn’t even scream—just wheezed and gasped for air.
“Y-yes! I-I did! I hit him! I hit Haram, I did!”
Sure, he’d almost flicked Haram on the forehead once, but he hadn’t actually planned to hit him. Now, terrified of another blow, he admitted to more than he’d done, his eyes fixed on Tae-yi’s fists rather than his face.
Tae-yi unclenched his hand but said nothing. Just stared down at him, calm and silent.
This guy had met his share of alphas before—but none like this. The presence was overwhelming. He knew now, without a doubt: Kang Tae-yi was an Alpha. And not just any Alpha.
“I-I’ll never come back…! Please let me go, hyung-nim!”
Tae-yi hated that more than anything—being called “hyungnim.” The promise not to return didn’t please him either. He briefly considered smacking him again, but the cramped backseat was getting uncomfortable. Instead, he spoke evenly.
“Keep coming.”
“…What?”
“Every time you come, run some errands for me.”
“…What?”
He didn’t even bother correcting the man’s confusion. Just stared coldly—and re-clenched his fist. That did the trick.
“Yes! Of course! I’ll do it!”
“You’ll bring me clothes, shoes, underwear. And snacks for the squirrel. Leave them at the gate.”
Tae-yi looked down at the man’s swollen lips and cheeks as he gave his order.
“W-what kind of clothes…?”
“Do I look like I wear suits out here in the boonies?”
Panicked by the look on Tae-yi’s face, the man nodded vigorously.
“Right! I’ll bring comfy clothes and shoes! You got it, hyung-nim!”
“When are you coming next?”
Tae-yi’s tone blurred the line between formal and casual, order and suggestion.
“I-I’m not sure…”
“If you run or tell the squirrel about this, I’ll cut you in half.”
What he’d cut—and how—was left unsaid. But whatever it was, the debt collector didn’t want to find out. He just nodded silently.
The pressure on his stomach lifted.
Tae-yi stepped out of the car, stared at the wreck of a man in the backseat for a moment, then retrieved the knife from the trunk and strolled up the hill.
“Haa… Fuckin’ psycho…”
Watching him vanish over the ridge, the debt collector muttered, rubbing his swollen face.
***
As soon as he stepped back inside the gate, Tae-yi sighed like he was already tired of the day. He’d hoped Haram would be asleep, but the kitchen light was on—he was probably already cooking. Tae-yi looked down at the kitchen knife in his right hand, then glanced around the yard.
There, in one corner, was a small vegetable patch. He couldn’t tell what most of it was, but one plant was familiar.
Quietly, without a sound, Tae-yi approached the garden—and raised the knife.
