MIM 12

Even in this situation, Gong Ji-un made everyone laugh with his innate sense of humor. Despite his delicate appearance and being a student at the same school, Ji-un had a vast knowledge and experience that allowed him to contribute to every topic. He even taught ‘how to soothe a crying baby’ when someone started complaining about the sound of a baby crying in the house next door.

Jae-seung listened carefully to stories he had never experienced or been interested in before, pretending to laugh at jokes he couldn’t understand. It was just casual chatter, but it wasn’t easy. Until now, his only conversational partner had been Shin-woo, and even his occasional talk was only about other regions or countries. Even that wasn’t about his personal experiences, but rather just reciting his wishlist, which made it difficult to use in situations like this.

Thinking of Shin-woo made his chest tighten. He desperately needed those lingering eyes that had stared at him blankly this morning. Even in his anxiety, he felt angry – angry at himself for continuing to long for someone who might have killed his father, and who might even be targeting him.

He lost his appetite and didn’t even want to pretend to eat the pie. As Jae-seung was about to put down his fork, he flinched in surprise and hid his hand under the table.

He couldn’t believe it and felt the fork with his fingertips. Even after checking several times, it wasn’t a mistake. He had only gripped it tightly for a moment, but…

The fork was bent.

“You’re actually quite big. I think you’re bigger than Byung-woo?”

At the word ‘big’, Jae-seung instinctively raised his head. Sure enough, it was about him. Jang Yeon-ha gestured towards Jae-seung and then nodded towards the man who had just joined the table, Byung-woo. When Byung-woo’s eyes met Jae-seung’s, he nodded indifferently.

“I’m 191cm. How tall are you?”

“188cm.”

“I’m taller then.”

Pleased to have won in height, Byung-woo smiled, flaring his nostrils. Jae-seung shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t particularly happy about his body getting bigger and bigger, and had been hoping his height would stop increasing. He had been growing so fast that even the clothes he bought this year were now showing his ankles and needed to be altered.

Seeming to be in a better mood after Jae-seung’s acknowledgement, Byung-woo belatedly greeted him.

“Nice to meet you, by the way. Nam Byung-woo, basketball player.”

Nam Byung-woo was a large man, befitting his occupation as a basketball player. Jae-seung hadn’t noticed immediately due to his weak energy, but upon shaking hands, he realized Byung-woo was an alpha. As Byung-woo looked Jae-seung up and down, Ji-un excitedly brought up the story of Jae-seung easily grabbing the rim. Although it was embarrassing to have such a brief moment talked about as if it were a great adventure, Jae-seung didn’t stop him. Praise wasn’t something Jae-seung received often.

As Gong Ji-un praised Jae-seung’s jumping ability endlessly, the surrounding kids clasped their hands in admiration. It seemed they were more amused by Byung-woo’s silent annoyance than genuinely impressed. Byung-woo was the only one who didn’t notice this fact. After showing his displeasure, he finally challenged Jae-seung.

“There’s a shooting game, want to try? I’ve only played a few times as a hobby, so it’ll be fair.”

“Sure.”

The prospect of playing a game with someone else, regardless of winning or losing, was exciting. Jae-seung quickly accepted the offer and followed Byung-woo to the living room. He discreetly threw the bent fork in the trash. Leaving behind the forgotten wine, the kids trailed after them in a line.

Although he had naturally assumed there would be a shooting range attached to the villa, the ‘game’ Byung-woo mentioned was the kind where you shoot a fake gun at targets on a large monitor. Jae-seung tilted his head and examined the game gun. His only experience with shooting was a few times at a real shooting range. The impact on the hands and the weight of the gun would be much lighter in the game, but he wasn’t sure if aiming like with a real gun would work.

“Shall I go first? The first two shots are practice.”

Despite saying he hadn’t played much, Byung-woo skillfully set the distance and target types. He chose a map without properly explaining anything to Jae-seung, even though the wind direction differed for each map and needed to be quickly memorized. Jae-seung stood right behind Byung-woo, watching how he shot. Byung-woo closed one eye, inhaled, and then held his breath.

Shooting steadily in succession, Byung-woo hit the 10-point mark once, the 9-point mark three times, and evenly distributed the rest between 8 and 7 points. It wasn’t a bad score, but it couldn’t be called particularly good either. Two practice shots should be enough to get the hang of it. Jae-seung smirked as he took the gun. Having never lost before, he didn’t think he would lose this time either.

There’s a rhythm to all sports. Even though it was a game, his real-life experience wouldn’t hurt.

When Jae-seung put one hand in his pocket and aimed like he would at a shooting range, Byung-woo snickered mockingly. Regardless, Jae-seung stared intently at the center of the target. In a real shooting range, even distant targets were clearly visible down to the numbers, but on the screen, the text was pixelated due to the resolution, making color the primary means of distinction.

He fired one shot for practice. Although the wind direction varied for each map, when he actually shot, it became clear that while the setting existed, it didn’t require particularly delicate control. The game gun’s light weight and lack of recoil were actually more bothersome. Keeping this in mind, he fired another shot and got the feel of it. The area where you could score 10 points was wider than he thought. Jae-seung stared straight at the target and pulled the trigger of the toy gun.

Will he hate me if I win? Around the fifth shot, this thought suddenly occurred to him. He had no intention of losing on purpose, but he was curious. The kids on the hockey team had been like that.

After firing the last shot, silence fell as the total score appeared.

“Nine 10-point shots, one 9-point shot. Are you crazy?”

It was Ji-un who called out the results displayed on the monitor. His face was red with excitement as he shook Jae-seung’s shoulders.

“Hey! How are you this good? I heard you were homeschooled, did you get private lessons for this too at home?”

“What nonsense. Professionals probably came to teach him directly.”

Byung-woo clenched his fist and sneered. It seemed like he meant it as mockery, but it was somewhat true. In fact, Jae-seung had received intensive training from a former professional employee.

He must dislike me, right? When Jae-seung glanced at Byung-woo, who was pouting, their eyes met. He thought Byung-woo might leave, but Byung-woo stubbornly held his gaze without moving. After a long standoff, he sighed heavily and went somewhere. When he returned, he was holding two glasses of fruit wine.

After hesitating, Byung-woo offered a glass. His face was red, clearly embarrassed.

“You did well. I lost.”

Jae-seung stared blankly at the glass offered to him. He half-expected Byung-woo to flip his hand and pour the drink over his head, but nothing of the sort happened. Surprisingly, there was no hostility readable in Byung-woo’s dumbfounded expression.

“Even if you don’t want to drink, at least take it so I’m not embarrassed.”

Only when Byung-woo whispered through his teeth, his face red to the ears, did Jae-seung realize he had been staring at the glass for quite some time. He quickly took the glass and emptied it, feeling a sudden rush of heat. The taste of alcohol was strangely bitter. Maybe he was getting drunk from accepting and drinking alcohol every time it was offered, affecting his senses.

“Are you okay?” 

Ji-un asked kindly, placing a hand on his shoulder. I should stop drinking now, Jae-seung concluded internally and nodded. He could call the mansion for a car and rest while waiting leisurely. It was a shame, but they could meet again next time. Both Ji-un, who had introduced him to many friends, and Byung-woo, who despite his swagger had extended his hand first, were quite decent guys.

“Your face is red. You seem to have a fever.”

Gong Ji-un felt his forehead with the back of his hand. Jae-seung, who was about to twist his head to shake off the unfamiliar warmth, covered his mouth. An intense pheromone, strong enough to flip his vision upside down, invaded through his nostrils, ears, eyes – every opening – numbing his senses.

It was Omega pheromones. Not just from one person, but from several.

That can’t be right. Jae-seung looked around. When he had entered, they were scattered about, so he hadn’t realized there were so many, but now over twenty people seemed to be densely surrounding him, staring. All their eyes, which had been looking in different directions before, were now fixed on him as if by agreement, not moving. Their once indifferent attitudes were nowhere to be found.

Is this a hallucination? Did I drink too much? I feel dizzy and nauseous.

“I think you’re drunk.”

Lee Si-hyeong approached and gently linked arms with him. He was the man who had sat across from him eating pie earlier. With a body that looked like it weighed less than half of Jae-seung’s, he came closer, wrapping his arm around Jae-seung’s back as if to support him. Let’s go upstairs. The moment the sweet breath touched his skin, Jae-seung’s stomach tightened. Fvck. Jae-seung panted, chewing on the curse word.

The glass he had been holding shattered. And someone screamed.