Chapter 124
“Waah! Waah!”
Jerome’s crying finally burst out. Hyeon-woo frantically held Jerome, who was crying with his face turning red and dropping pearl-like tears.
“Jerome, are you hungry? Was the milk not enough?”
Jerome’s cries grew louder as he turned his head away, refusing the bottle. The anxiety that had grown from those cries was now weighing heavily on Hyeon-woo.
“Don’t cry, Jerome. Let’s stop, okay? Hmm?”
“Waaah! Waah!!”
As nothing seemed to work, Hyeon-woo had no choice but to pick up the remote and turn on the TV. It was the TV he had been avoiding since hearing news about Tae-geon at the restaurant he visited with McRae.
Jerome’s crying subsided a bit as the loud noise filled the silence. Hyeon-woo was flipping through channels, trying to find a children’s program while holding Jerome with one arm.
A horrific traffic accident scene in the middle of the city appeared on the local broadcast screen. Hyeon-woo’s finger, which had been frantically pressing buttons on the remote, suddenly froze.
Amidst the chaos of hazy smoke and unidentifiable debris on the road, a familiar-looking car caught his attention. Hyeon-woo stared at the screen, forgetting to breathe.
A black sedan, covered in white fire extinguishing powder, burnt to a skeletal frame.
Not far from it, a white car crumpled like a piece of paper and a yellow school bus with its side slightly dented passed by in view. Paramedics were rescuing children from the school bus, taking them out one by one.
The camera focused on the accident vehicles again. As the camera angle slowly panned over the wrecked black sedan from various angles, the moment the license plate came into view, the remote in Hyeon-woo’s hand crashed to the floor with a loud noise, shattering.
“Wah, waaaaah! Waah!”
Startled by the sound, Jerome let out a piercing cry. Although the license plate was burned black, almost unrecognizable to the naked eye, Hyeon-woo could clearly see it. Seven characters flew into his mind and stuck there clearly.
It was his father’s sedan.
*
The wedding reception was over.
It was past midnight when Tae-geon finally found himself alone. He dismissed the chauffeur and got into the driver’s seat himself. He threw his cream-colored tailcoat onto the passenger seat and rested his forehead on his hands gripping the steering wheel. Terrible fatigue washed over him.
Despite the engagement ceremony being held in utmost secrecy under tight security, somehow paparazzi shots had made it to public broadcast, causing a stir. The tax exemption for suppressants hadn’t been finalized yet. It was extremely annoying to have public attention focused on this political marriage for mutual political advantage.
He had only met his fiancée, Congressman Kim Chang-sik’s niece, three times in total, including yesterday’s reception. They had met separately at a hotel lounge for introductions two weeks before the engagement, and then held the ceremony in secret. In fact, this reception wasn’t even in the original plan. However, when news of the engagement unexpectedly leaked, congratulatory money poured in from all directions, people trying to curry favor with the couple who would soon wield enormous power.
Most of it was returned, but some couldn’t be. Those sent by high-ranking officials in political and business circles were among them. They were people who could exert considerable influence on the business Tae-geon was promoting. Their polite apologies for late congratulations concealed disappointment at not being invited to the engagement ceremony. This reception was an additional event arranged for them.
Once the tax exemption for Legatum is finalized, this charade will be over.
Tae-geon let out a deep sigh as he started the car and popped a pill from his pocket into his mouth. It was a drug that temporarily prevented his vision from flickering. But even relying on medication was coming to an end. The dosage had already exceeded the allowable limit, and its effectiveness was decreasing at an alarming rate. Tae-geon sensed that even his eyesight, which he had barely maintained through drug dependence, was nearing its end.
With skilled hands on the wheel, the imposing black sedan accelerated in a sleek curve. The navigation was pointing not to his home, but to the east coast. The campus he had attended with Hyeon-woo was visible not far from the coordinates.
There were three reasons why Tae-geon wanted to make Legatum a basic necessity. First, to ensure stable quality and supply of suppressants under state management. Second, to reduce the burden on low-income groups by lowering the selling price through tax benefits. And third, to exert downward price pressure worldwide to collapse the suppressant cartel more quickly.
If importing countries don’t appropriately reflect the prices from monopolistic manufacturing countries with patent rights in their domestic markets, smuggling will flourish in the underground. This would become the breeding ground for criminal organizations to grow.
Especially with this new drug, it was likely that importing countries would also push for tax exemption following Korea’s lead, as it was worth it. This would give an advantage not only in quality but also in price. Tae-geon planned to quickly dismantle the suppressant cartel with this strategy and dominate the global market.
The emergence of Legatum alone had already collapsed a significant portion of the cartel. The biotech industry, led by Taeryeong Group and Biobak, shifted their investment budget from focusing on complications from long-term suppressant use to the aging industry. It was a move anticipating the extended life expectancy of Omegas.
Changes had begun not only in the medical field. With the new drug strongly guaranteeing Omegas’ physical autonomy, discussions on revising labor laws and hate crime punishment levels targeting Omegas had begun.
This was precisely why the world was so excited about Taeryeong’s new drug. Experts and investors had early on recognized that it would be an innovation that would move the axis of the world, beyond its value as an effective suppressant for heat cycles.
However, Legatum, which everyone praised endlessly, hadn’t actually emerged to realize such a noble, humanitarian utopia.
If Hyeon-woo hadn’t manifested as an Omega, Legatum would never have come into existence.
The sound of breaking waves gradually grew closer as Tae-geon pressed the accelerator deeper.
His heart stirred.
Whenever he missed Hyeon-woo desperately, he habitually drove to the night sea. As he walked alone on the white sandy beach, he would feel as if someone’s gaze was touching his back. It was still hot, sorrowful, affectionate, and poignant. Only after surrendering his whole body to the salty sea breeze, like Hyeon-woo’s tears, could he finally breathe freely.
Everything he had planned would be completed before the end of this year.
And after that…
He hadn’t thought about it.
Although it was regrettable to say to his fiancée, Tae-geon had no intention of revealing the imprinting until he achieved his goals. It was a predicted catastrophe anyway.
He didn’t want to blame the rut. Rather, the rut that came once a month felt like a message from Hyeon-woo, making him almost glad. It felt as if it was conveying that he was doing well, that he was safe.
He knew it was nothing more than a unilateral, non-consensual imprinting. Hyeon-woo didn’t even know about his imprinting. Nevertheless, every time Tae-geon endured a rut, he felt connected to Hyeon-woo.
That’s why he could endure it. It was the only reason he could avoid going crazy during the soul-tearing ruts.
In the dark dawn, the large sedan roared with a deep exhaust note as it sped down the empty road. The blackened coastline gradually revealed itself beyond the car window. As he increased speed with an urgent heart, his tailcoat on the passenger seat began to vibrate.
Buzz- Buzz-.
It was past 2 AM.
He checked the monitor of the navigation system paired with his phone. It said ‘Caller ID Restricted’. On any other day, he would have ignored the vibration, but today it particularly bothered him. Tae-geon pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer the call.
Static, crackle- crackle-.
The metallic noise coming through the speaker scratched his eardrums. Tae-geon frowned and lowered the volume.
Crackle-.
As the noise gradually subsided, a man’s voice flowed through the car’s speakers connected to the phone via Bluetooth.
“…Tae-geon, is that you.”
Although the voice was modulated, the speaker’s age and dignity were unmistakable in the mature tone.
Was there someone among his acquaintances with such a way of speaking?
As he searched his memory, the other person’s voice continued.
“The meal today was excellent. I was disappointed not to be invited to the engagement ceremony, but I was truly glad to see you at the reception. I had been curious all along, wondering what kind of person could cause us such headaches by interfering with us at every turn.”
Although he couldn’t understand what the person was talking about, it brought him a little closer to identifying the speaker.
Someone invited to the reception whom he had never met before.
It was an event attended by only a select few under strict security. Most were people he had known since childhood through his father, so Tae-geon’s mind was busy narrowing down the list of those who weren’t in this category.
“I, well, I wanted to recruit you here, highly valuing your skills, but the opposition was too strong, so I couldn’t. It seems you’ve made quite a few enemies? That’s a skill in itself.”
Tae-geon frowned at the other person who was laughing heartily. He couldn’t understand what they were talking about at all. The voice, now devoid of laughter, continued.
