“Overall, the kid’s condition isn’t bad. He’s underweight, but considering his height, it’s not terrible either.”
“……”
“He’s young, so his organ function is fine too. I even went ahead and brought all the test results with me. Hold on.”
“What the hell are you on about.”
“Hm. Fresh as they come.”
Choi Woo-hyuk fixed Jang Hyeon-u with a perfectly dry stare. Jang Hyeon-u already knew from his conversation with Secretary Han that it had nothing to do with that — yet he played dumb anyway. He kept his face carefully blank and watched Woo-hyuk’s reaction. The fact that he sat there with his mouth clamped shut like a clam only made it all the more curious.
While Jang Hyeon-u spread the test results out on the table, Choi Woo-hyuk rose from his seat without a word and moved to the large display cabinet along one side of the living room. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, then scooped ice from the freezer into each one.
“You know, right? The kid’s only twenty.”
“……”
“Apparently his presentation came late, so he hasn’t gone through a heat cycle yet. If he gets through the first one fine, his omega functions should at least hit average. And since he’s got a pretty face, there’s no worry about him selling, right?”
Jang Hyeon-u tossed out words that could lead anyone to think of human trafficking, watching his reaction all the while. He tracked the back of Choi Woo-hyuk’s head as he continued moving without a word. When a person talks, the least they can do is respond. He muttered to himself — and then found himself meeting Choi Woo-hyuk’s eyes.
“So what. Is it actually just concern? Checking if the kid’s recovered? If that’s it, it’s even more suspicious. There’s no reason to look after a male when there are female omegas everywhere you turn. And a young one at that. Isn’t that right?”
“……”
“It’s also strange that you handed him off to someone even Secretary Han doesn’t know.”
How does someone go around checking on another person’s wellbeing — and not just anyone, but Executive Director Choi, of all people.
“Alright, fine. Just a slightly split lip left, face is clean. You’re listening to me, right?”
“……”
Is he ignoring me on purpose? Before he knew it, a simple spread had been laid out on the table by Choi Woo-hyuk’s hands.
More precisely — on top of the test results Jang Hyeon-u had set out. The glass filled with ice sat on the papers, and the sheet slowly grew damp in a widening circle beneath it. It meant he had no intention of looking at them whatsoever.
Oh, come on.
“I go out of my way to bring a full report and this is what I get. He’s the one who asked, and now he can’t even give me an answer. You’re supposed to give some kind of feedback. Am I talking to a wall right now? Hm?”
Choi Woo-hyuk filled his glass to the brim and drained it without so much as glancing at Jang Hyeon-u. A cold stillness slowly spread across his expressionless face.
“Done talking?”
It was a sign that Choi Woo-hyuk’s patience was reaching its limit.
“What happened to the omega I assigned to handle the body disposal?”
“Huh?”
“Cut the nonsense and answer my question.”
“……Oh. I thought it was something else.”
Jang Hyeon-u’s disappointment showed plainly on his face. He pulled a sour expression and pouted his lips like something didn’t sit right with him, then knocked back the half-melted drink like it was a soft drink. He clicked his tongue in a way that grated on the nerves before slumping back against the sofa.
Choi Woo-hyuk listened to the predictable rundown without any particular feeling. He’d asked the question himself, yet he wasn’t really listening. He was leisurely sipping his drink as if savoring it, simply waiting for Jang Hyeon-u to finish.
He had known from the start. Jang Hyeon-u showing up at Unsol-chae meant that Yi-won had been discharged. When he’d dug out suppressants as a pretense, Woo-hyuk had already seen right through him.
Desperate to know why he had entrusted Yi-won to his care, Jang Hyeon-u had likely hoped to provoke a reaction out of him. And in doing so, he’d gone ahead and spilled everything — even things he hadn’t been asked about.
What he hadn’t asked about: that Jeong Yi-won, who he’d assumed was a minor given his small frame barely reaching his shoulder, his lean build, and his boyish face, was actually twenty years old. And that there was nothing particularly wrong with him physically. Good to hear. Choi Woo-hyuk took it in without feeling.
The fact that he’d watched him carefully even while spouting nonsense about fresh organs meant that Jang Hyeon-u had known from the beginning what the real point of his question was.
The reason he’d let it all go without cutting him off — he’d simply been curious how far Jang Hyeon-u would take it.
“Report’s done.”
“Good work.”
Choi Woo-hyuk answered flatly and lifted his glass again. Beside the dampening test results sat an ashtray, and next to that, cigarettes and a lighter. And one more thing — a lip balm he’d been toying with in his hand sat neatly alongside them.
Jang Hyeon-u’s gaze landed on the lip balm. His expression twisted as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have. The look on his face said it all — strawberry-scented, of all things — practically a silent string of curses.
“But really, Executive Director. Honestly, that kid——”
“Stay out of it.”
Jang Hyeon-u, having gotten none of what he came for, persisted until the very end. But faced with the way Choi Woo-hyuk cut him off, he had no choice but to finally shut his mouth.
“What. What am I doing.”
“There’s no reason. So stay out of it.”
“……Really?”
“A kid was getting beaten up. I just sent him somewhere.”
Jang Hyeon-u scoffed. Of course he knew. Choi Woo-hyuk himself knew, too — that his own answer didn’t hold much credibility.
This was a man who hadn’t so much as blinked at someone clinging to the hem of his pants, sobbing and begging through tears and snot. Who had killed more times than he could count simply because the pleading of someone retching with fear had grated on his ears — not worth hearing out to the end.
That was who Choi Woo-hyuk was, and who he would continue to be. Jang Hyeon-u, who had watched that truth up close over long years, had no reason not to know it.
“So watch your mouth.”
“……”
“A knife——”
But beyond that, Choi Woo-hyuk had nothing else to attach as a reason. The small act of goodwill was nothing more than a passing impulse. It held no intention behind it.
“I use it better than Doctor Jang.”
The kid was pitiful. And it just so happened they’d crossed paths before. That was all it amounted to.
* * *
Is Yi-won okay now?
Don’t push yourself too hard, you’re just getting better — you’ll end up sick again.
Was the hospital bill enough?
You look like you put on some weight. You sure you weren’t just flirting with a guest the whole time instead of actually being sick?
You know full well what the situation’s like — taking over a week off for something as minor as body aches.
Read the room and rest when you can. The others being on edge isn’t exactly news. Don’t overdo it.
What do you think you are, just cleaning? You’re an omega. You know there are plenty of people who specifically look for male omegas. You got sick from cleaning, rested in a hospital most people can’t even afford because it’s too expensive, and that’s supposed to be fine? Same situation as everyone else, so why do you get to be different?
Everyone he ran into asked after Yi-won, and every now and then came a jab about how long he’d been away. Yi-won told himself he had to understand the sharp edges people pointed at him. When Doctor Jang had told him he shouldn’t be discharged yet, Yi-won — being human, after all — hadn’t entirely minded.
“Almost done……”
Past midnight, Wol-hwa Jeong was packed wall to wall with people. He set and cleared the tables in the private rooms without a moment’s rest. Even past the turn of the day, rough voices still seeped through the gaps of closed doors from rooms that were far from empty.
He straightened the stack of plates piled on the trolley, careful they wouldn’t slide off on the way. The clatter of dishes knocking together was swallowed almost instantly by the clamor of voices all around.
“Are you done, Yi-won?”
Shin Mi-sun, who caught his eye from the end of the corridor, walked over and asked. Her warm tone and gaze carried a genuine care for him. Yi-won hadn’t even noticed his hair had come undone from all the frantic clearing — Shin Mi-sun’s hands set it right again.
“Just need to move these and I’m done.”
“Good work. You must be tired.”
“I got to rest well, thanks to a kind person looking out for me. So I don’t even feel tired.”
“There are no kind people among the guests who come here, Yi-won.”
