Part 11. An Omega’s Resolve (1)
Just as Ji Haesu had said, he didn’t come. Instead, an Omega subordinate who resembled Ji Haesu—pretty-faced, but tall and muscular—entered and brought him a meal.
“Where’s the spoon and chopsticks?”
When Choi Suho asked in Korean while watching the subordinate gently set the tray down on the floor, the Omega lifted his eyes upward in a prim, puzzled way.
With a look that seemed to say What are you talking about?, Choi Suho sat down on the floor naked, folding his legs beneath him. Just like in the past, the muscular Omega—once dressed smartly in a two-piece suit like Suho himself—rested a hand on his waist, let out a snort of laughter, and slowly stroked the heavy bulge at the center of his body.
The moment Choi Suho grasped the meaning of that smile, goosebumps rippled violently over his skin. He scrambled onto the bed and covered himself with the blanket.
“Fuck, don’t tell me you’re planning to later—”
The pretty Omega stuck out his pierced tongue, licked his lips, and opened his mouth. A surprisingly deep, weighty voice spilled out.
[I wish the day I get to fuck you would come soon. My name’s Songyu.]
Words he couldn’t understand. At first glance, it sounded like Chinese—but it wasn’t Chinese. Something similar… the language of a country that had now vanished from maps.
He could roughly guess where Ji Haesu’s homeland was. It wasn’t even a country anymore. A land forcibly swallowed when Mao Zedong seized power. Now only traces remained, under the label of a Chinese ethnic minority, scattered across Taiwan, Hong Kong, Thailand, and elsewhere.
If that was the case, it made sense why Ji Haesu had been impossible to track down. He was Chinese, yet not Chinese.
[I’ve got a thing for fucking other Omegas. In that sense, you’re exactly my type.]
Songyu, Ji Haesu’s subordinate, spoke with a bright, cheerful smile that matched his pretty face.
“What the hell are you even babbling about?”
[So eat up properly. I want it to be me who makes you miscarry your kid.]
Giving up on understanding, Choi Suho let out a sigh and asked in English.
[Spoon and fork.]
[No.]
To his surprise, Songyu replied fluently in English.
[The boss ordered that you eat like a dog.]
[I’m not a dog!]
[But right now, you are.]
Songyu lifted a finger painted with black nail polish and pointed at the ceiling. Making gunshot sounds—“Bang, bang”—he spoke again.
[What can a dog that can’t do anything possibly do? Eat quickly and get pregnant. That way I can make you miscarry with my cock.]
Songyu said this while fondling his visibly swollen cock. Only now did Choi Suho finally understand what the man had been spewing earlier in that Chinese-like native tongue, and his face turned rigid as stone.
Fuck… that’s what it meant?
[Have you gone crazy like your boss too?]
[Then do you think the people who gathered around him would be normal?]
At Songyu’s words, Choi Suho found himself conceding internally. Come to think of it, that’s true. Ji Haesu was insane—there was no way his subordinates would be sane.
[More importantly, why aren’t you scared when I say my friends and I are going to gangbang you?]
Choi Suho lifted his eyes sharply and replied to Songyu’s question.
[Because that will never happen.]
With a bitter, blood-tinged smile, he added,
[I’ll kill you before that. You fucking bastard.]
Songyu laughed.
[Logically speaking, there’s no way you could beat fourteen Alphas and Omegas—including the boss—but I’ll give you points for guts. Guys like that are more fun. I like them better.]
Was I like that too?
Fucking Alphas and recessive Omegas purely for fun. Playing with them. Laughing. Ordering them to crawl on all fours like dogs.
Because he was now receiving his past deeds back as pure karma, Choi Suho had nothing to say. He clutched the blanket tightly and lowered his head.
He’d boasted about killing them, but it would be a lie to say he wasn’t afraid. Could he really defeat Ji Haesu and those hulking bastards? Just looking at one of them, it seemed overwhelming enough.
The more he replayed the past in his mind, the whiter his vision became, and his body began to tremble under the fear of what he would have to endure.
[Where’s Ji Haesu?]
At some point, without realizing it, he was looking for Ji Haesu. He didn’t know why. Was it because Ji Haesu’s shirt wasn’t here? Or did he think it would be better to be violated by someone familiar—even if it meant being violated?
No… the only person who could protect him now—
[The boss isn’t coming.]
[Why?]
[Because you acted all arrogant. You should’ve just played husband with him. The boss was thinking about becoming your spouse—he even thought about a nursery. But you hurt him.]
There was no one. No one but Ji Haesu. Realistically, the only person who could save him was Ji Haesu.
That fact was so miserable it didn’t even make him laugh. He really was standing at the edge of a cliff. Ji Haesu was the one holding his hand as he dangled over it, while everyone else was grabbing at his ankles, hoping he’d fall.
[So it’s my fault?]
[Yeah.]
[All of it?]
Choi Suho lowered his head and exposed the bruised nape of his neck as he asked. Smacking his lips, Songyu replied,
[That’s right. All of it’s your fault. Every single thing. So why did you do it? You—]
[How many days has it been?]
Choi Suho asked, but Songyu didn’t answer.
[Time’s up. I’m leaving.]
[Don’t go!]
Ten minutes a day. Songyu brought him three meals a day, but only talked to him for ten minutes.
[Please, don’t go!]
That time shrank from ten minutes to five, and then gradually disappeared altogether. Eventually, Songyu stopped talking to Choi Suho at all.
It felt like hope was burning away. The faint hope that he might be able to leave this place— even that was gone now.
It really felt like everyone wanted him dead.
Then one day, Ji Haesu came without a word.
He had never been so happy.
But Ji Haesu said nothing. He raped Choi Suho and left. Then he came back again, raped him again, and left.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
Time passed silently like that.
***
Was this what it meant for a life to be utterly ruined? He hadn’t even done anything yet, and he was already trapped in the Pyeongchang-dong mansion. Worse still, he was left hanging like a dog, a chain fixed to his neck and secured to the ceiling, unable to do anything until Ji Haesu came.
Who could have imagined that Choi Suho, the son of Chairman Jang Yuguk, would fall this far? No—one person would have known.
Do Si-in. Jang Jihyeok. Jang Jihun. Jang Jihae.
How happy must they be right now? He could understand it from Do Si-in’s perspective, but thinking about Jang Jihyeok, Jang Jihun, and Jang Jihae made his teeth grind. Right—there was no way Father would’ve written the will like that. How had he not considered that those brothers, led by Jang Jihyeok, might have altered it?
But how was he supposed to get revenge? What did he even have now?
Even if he clenched his teeth and swore to live again for revenge, thinking about his half-brothers—who had already secured their shares and climbed to untouchable heights in society—made it feel like he was falling into the unseen depths of a bottomless abyss. He wanted to close his eyes like this and let it end.
Now, the end of his life depended on Ji Haesu. That, too, was unbearably miserable. The outcome of this entire game had long been in Ji Haesu’s hands, and the one moving Ji Haesu like a pawn was Do Si-in. So how had he thought he could win, running forward blindly like this?
Should he just die?
No. He had to meet Do Si-in. He had to meet him and honestly say he was sorry. That was the final task of his life.
But wasn’t that, too, just his own selfish desire? Si-in probably didn’t want to see him at all…
Still, maybe—just maybe—he’d accept the apology and give him a reason to live again.
Torn between wanting to die and clinging to the thought that there might be at least one person who wished for him to live, he stood precariously at a crossroads like a sheer cliff. What kept him from falling—into life or death—was, absurdly enough, the chain and dog collar fixed to the hook in the ceiling around his neck.
You won’t get out of here until you’re pregnant.
“Fuck… bastard.”
—The thought of you getting pregnant with my kid still turns me on. Of course, this one will die, but the next one? Let’s make sure you give birth to that one and become good parents together.
Have I really become an Omega?
Even now, Choi Suho denied the reality of having become an Omega. He pulled his knees up, buried his face against them, and gasped for breath. What was overwhelming him now was loneliness—loneliness from knowing that no one was looking for him.
In the past, if he didn’t go to work or didn’t show up at the hotel, his father or his father’s secretary would come looking for him. But now, days had passed, and no one had come to his mansion.
The hotel and the amusement park both had professional managers, so perhaps they thought it didn’t matter whether he showed up or not. Or maybe Jang Jihyeok’s influence had already seeped in, and they were hoping he’d disappear like this forever—declared dead as a missing person.
The moment that thought struck him, a cracked voice slipped out of Choi Suho’s mouth.
“No… no…”
The nationwide, number-one-ranked hotel had been a gift from his father on his twentieth birthday. And the amusement park—built just for him—had been given as a gift when he joined the company at twenty-eight. If anything, those were things he had every right to keep.
