SPM 4.3

Drive 12

Bang! The sound of a large palm hitting the desk rang out all the way to the corridor outside the office.

“Hand spasms on broadcast…!”

“Calm down, Matt.”

The coach straightened a picture frame that had fallen on the desk while restraining the furious general manager.

“We should listen to what the player has to say. It wasn’t Terrence.”

“Like hell it wasn’t! I saw it clearly with these two eyes! Randy! Be honest. I know you saw everything too.”

Standing in the corridor, Ian leaned against the wall hearing the agitated voices of the coach and general manager leaking through the door crack. It was careless behavior, but not as careless as those two who were raising their voices with the door open.

They were already in a momentum that wouldn’t stop arguing unless someone set off a grenade outside. The general manager seemed to have completely forgotten his instruction for Ian from the communication team to bring up materials.

“Even so, Matt, how do you plan to explain drafting a new quarterback without any consultation?”

When the coach asked in an incredulous tone, the general manager paused momentarily and lowered his voice.

“…He’s a backup quarterback. As you know, Will left the team due to injury.”

“Backup? Just a backup? Matt, don’t talk nonsense. You and I both know exactly that’s not the truth.”

Elderly Randy Smith’s eyes gleamed sharply.

“Just brought in a backup quarterback by selecting him in the 3rd round? And someone famous like Lucas Mahelona at that?”

The coach was right. Though the general manager was now acting lightly as if trying to excuse his unilateral choice, this wasn’t such a simple matter.

If he really wanted to bring in a quarterback purely for backup as he claimed, he should have selected one in the 4th or 5th round.

No, if he just wanted to develop a reserve player while having a stable quarterback, bringing one in the 6th or 7th round wouldn’t be insufficient. But 3rd round? A player selected in the 3rd round was just a backup? Even Ian, forgetting he was eavesdropping, snorted at how ridiculous it sounded.

In the NFL Draft, usually the 1st and 2nd rounds are for definitely selecting promising rookie players to use as starters, and 4th-7th rounds are for selecting backup players. The 3rd round is a very ambiguous spot.

‘But definitely not when backups are selected.’

Most owners, general managers, and coaches keep many possibilities open in the 3rd round.

A rookie player who’s a bit lacking to immediately play as a starter, but with proper training has sufficient potential to play as a starter in the near future. That was exactly the 3rd round position.

Moreover, who was Lucas Mahelona that the general manager brought in?

Ian recalled a shorts video that once heated up YouTube.

Opposing team defenders charge like bulls toward Lucas who’s running toward the end zone with the ball. They’re rushing madly to tackle him or knock him down with body contact to prevent his advance, but Lucas showed almost miraculous body movement then. He nimbly dodged the charging massive defenders with inhuman reaction speed while advancing, and finally jumped over a player digging in from behind without even looking…

‘He jumped over a huge linebacker like it was an elementary school vaulting horse.’

A back hurdle executed simultaneously with a spin move. It was a scene close to acrobatics.

For a quarterback, not a running back or receiver, to have such body movement. Lucas became a star of the college league overnight with this short video.

“There’s no point in interrogating me here now, Randy. As you know, player recruitment is completely within my authority.”

“Still, acting unilaterally like this without any consultation with me or other executives is ridiculous. When I asked the operations team, nobody knew. Honestly, even you think this is a normal situation?”

Just as the two men were about to raise their voices again, a low voice interrupted from behind.

“Just leave it, Randy. Matt is anxious about me.”

As soon as that voice was heard, Ian pressed against the crack of the open door.

Regardless of whether the coach and general manager, too excited to even sit down, were venting anger toward each other while standing, the person leaning back leisurely on the sofa as if it had nothing to do with him was… Terrence.

There he was, so leisurely by himself with that indifferent expression, hands in his pockets. Peering through the door crack at the large triangular dynamic between the general manager, coach, and quarterback who were essentially the central axis of the Wolves, Ian was on the verge of fainting. To have such an attitude alone in this chaos. To show such a disinterested attitude toward a matter he was involved in…!

He was treating the ongoing argument between the coach and general manager as if it were some commotion happening at another team. Pure indifference, you could say. Rather, Ian, who was eavesdropping, felt his heart constricting.

“Let him do whatever he wants.”

Then he even casually stood up and picked up a commemorative ball displayed in the general manager’s office, tossing it up and catching it in his hand.

“…Terrence. This isn’t helping you at all either.”

The coach held his forehead as if troubled between the two.

But Terrence just shrugged and rubbed the black pen signature on the commemorative ball with his thumb, here Ian almost fainted again. Did he know whose signed ball that was…?—and spoke numbly.

“Matt, why don’t you just be openly honest. Say that you’re anxious about me.”

“……”

“……”

“You won’t even listen when I explained it wasn’t a side effect of one-way imprinting. Of course, even if it were a side effect, it wouldn’t matter at all. As I said, it was really nothing. It won’t happen again, and even if it did, there would be absolutely no problem with my ball control. I know my body best. I will never disappoint you during a game.”

At his overly confident attitude, the office fell silent as if it had never been so loud.

“Huu…”

But even with that assurance, the general manager’s mind was clearly still full of doubt. He let out a big sigh and looked straight at Terrence.

“Yes, I’m anxious.”

“……”

“After seeing your hands shake like that on broadcast, who! Who wouldn’t be anxious?”

Then, as if unable to contain his anger, he threw the fixtures, documents, cups, and newspapers in front of him toward the wall.

Crash, after throwing things around for a while and kicking his chair and venting his anger on innocent objects, the general manager started raising his voice again.

“Damn it, Terrence! You’re a quarterback! You need to catch the ball and pass accurately! Plus you’re a perfect pocket passer quarterback! Am I wrong? Am I wrong?”

“……”

“A quarterback with hand spasms? What if your fingers suddenly twist during a game like on broadcast? If you drop the ball at crucial moments, will you take responsibility?”

“……”

“We need someone who can run in your place the moment something like that happens! Will’s not even on the team anymore! No, even if Will were here, do you think he could fill your position? Could another player handle that?”

“Damn it, Matt. Calm down! You’re way too agtited right now.”

The coach stepped in again with a tired, aged voice to restrain the general manager.

“I understand you’re feeling pressure since you haven’t been in the general manager position long, but this isn’t right in front of a player.”

“No, Randy! I’m perfectly sane right now. It seems like I’m the only one here trying to look at this situation objectively?”

“Watch your words, Matt. Keep this up and I really might not hold back either.”

The coach warned by showing his palm to the general manager, then turned around and patted Terrence’s shoulder. He was looking after his own.

Seeing this, the general manager opened his mouth again with a slightly lowered voice. Though he was still trembling slightly all over, unable to contain his anger.

“I’m just trying to prepare for this problem in various ways. Look, Randy. This is naturally what I should be doing! That’s exactly my job as general manager. That’s why I brought Lucas in this draft. And Terrence, you listen too. Lucas is just a contingency plan. Think of it that way and you’ll feel better. Got it?”

At those words, Terrence just slightly nodded with his still uninterested face. The general manager seemed to get angrier at that sight, but he forced himself to maintain composure and continued explaining.

“Yes, I’ll admit I’m anxious. But I hope you understand that I’m absolutely not neglecting you. I’m preparing various things with the medical team. I’ve already gotten approval to submit to the owner. We’re planning to bring in a specialist medical professional for you, Terrence. A personal doctor who can properly handle imprinting side effects. This alone should show you how important I consider you and the team. So when the doctor arrives, properly…”

His mind was too complicated to listen any longer. Forgetting that he had come to the general manager’s office with materials, Ian hurriedly ran away from that spot.

He had to go there, to that place right now.

* * *

The general manager’s fiery anger and the gaze that had been directed at Ian throughout their last private meeting, that hawk-like sharp yet suspicious look—tangled messily in his head.

That’s why only one thought came to mind.

During his last consultation with Dr. Olsen, Ian had asked with a desperate heart,

‘Doctor. You said it’s largely a psychological problem, but if the pheromone levels still don’t return to sufficient amounts… what should I do…?’

When he clung with an anxious expression, the last method he recommended was quite simple yet very medical-like,

‘In that case, the proper order would be to first remove the suppressant implanted in your body. Your physical condition is already abnormal, and the subcutaneous implant device is disrupting your hormones. Of course, oral suppressants are the same. Variant pheromones are closely connected to the endocrine system. Especially sex hormones, needless to say. Stopping all artificial suppressants to return the body completely to its natural state. That’s where I would start.’

It was the correct answer and orthodox view from a variant medicine specialist.

‘But the reason I haven’t actively recommended this is, well. For an Omega to stop suppressants is absolutely not a simple matter. Especially since Mr. Ian is a one-way imprinting subject.’

As a one-way imprinting subject, Ian had to constantly supply sufficient amounts of pheromones to Terrence who had imprinted on him. And the best method for pheromone transmission was sex. Pheromones absorbed directly into the body through mucous membranes were far more effective than those transmitted through the air. Naturally, they couldn’t use general contraceptives like condoms…

‘As you know, most suppressants contain contraceptive components. And the subcutaneous implant device that Mr. Ian currently has in his body is, um, yes. It’s from P company. This consists of high-dose suppressants and synthetic hormones, producing quite powerful contraceptive effects…’

Though Dr. Olsen trailed off, Ian could understand immediately.

To fundamentally solve the pheromone reduction problem, the body needed to be returned to as natural a state as possible, and to do that, suppressants had to be stopped. But stopping suppressants meant no contraception. Yet they couldn’t not have sex either.

The sea in front, a pillar of fire behind. It was a desperate situation where he couldn’t go either way.

That’s why Ian had answered that he would think about it more and left the hospital last time…

‘Back then I thought I could give enough pheromones if we just did it a lot.’

But it wasn’t enough. Despite having sex and exchanging pheromones every day even amidst their busy daily lives, Terrence had started experiencing side effects like hand spasms.

However, seeing Ian who had run out in the middle of work and come to find him in a somewhat panicked state, Dr. Olsen shook his head.

“Ian, I keep thinking you’re being too hasty right now.”

Dr. Olsen pulled out several tissues from the tissue box on his desk and handed them over. Only then did Ian realize he was sweating profusely.

“Just because one-way imprinting side effect symptoms appeared a few days ago doesn’t mean we can simply conclude that current pheromones are insufficient. Recently they might be sufficient, but previous deficiencies could have accumulated and are only now being expressed externally. Of course, we’d need to conduct precise tests to know for sure. Plus we’re not even certain if it’s really a side effect…”

“But doctor. Such words alone won’t do.”

Ian shook his head frantically.

“Whatever that spasm was, I need certainty that I can feel at ease with. You know that. With such uncertain speculation… Besides, I know what those precise tests entail. Terrence is an athlete. He’s not someone who has the luxury of being tied to a hospital like a clinical trial subject, getting blood drawn daily and being administered all sorts of drugs needed for testing, having every organ examined to determine the exact cause, nor is he someone who can do that.”

Unless there was a major illness, as a key player belonging to an organization, he couldn’t go through such a process.

Moreover, how many drugs would be involved in those detailed tests? There was no way to know what side effects they might bring. There was even the doping issue. To avoid mixing in drugs that could trigger doping violations, unlike regular patients, there were many things that had to be circumvented, what an inefficient process that would be.

Furthermore, fundamentally speaking, wasn’t imprinting not even a disease? Though the side effects took the form of illness, strictly speaking, it belonged to natural physical phenomena.

If pheromones were sufficient, everything would be fine.

So theoretically, this was a problem that Ian, as Terrence’s imprinting subject, could solve quite simply. It had to be.

“What you told me last time was right. If my pheromones return to normal, it would solve everything, and to do that, I need to stop the suppressants.”

“Then…”

“Yes. I came prepared.”

It was the best direction Ian could choose while cornered.

Perhaps because Ian’s face looked too resolute, Dr. Olsen let out a small sigh, scribbled something on documents, then handed the paper to a nurse standing behind them.

“Please follow this nurse. She’ll remove it for you there.”

“Thank you.”

Ian left Dr. Olsen’s office and followed the nurse to arrive at the treatment room.

“It’s the left arm, right? Let’s roll up the sleeve first. It needs to be completely exposed up to the shoulder.”

The nurse seated Ian in a hard patient examination chair then applied disinfectant to the inside of his forearm. Ian watched the cold cotton touch the spot where the implant had been inserted only a couple months ago and became lost in thought.

When he had the internal suppressant inserted, he knew nothing about his physical condition, so it was a measure to prevent another unexpected heat cycle, but he hadn’t expected to remove it so quickly.

‘This is just to reassure you… but the probability of immediate pregnancy is low. That’s why we’re removing it. Like with pheromone function, sex hormones are also generally reduced overall, so it’ll probably take time to return to normal. Therefore heat cycles will be the same.’

Dr. Olsen had been reluctant, saying if pregnancy was added to this it could create another troublesome problem, but ultimately gave in to Ian’s stubbornness precisely because of this.

Variant pheromones function most significantly sexually.

The estrus period when pheromones explosively burst out was essentially like periodically clearly indicating a variant’s fertile period.

Therefore, Ian, whose sex hormones were generally reduced, hadn’t been having proper heat cycles, which meant he was in a state where he couldn’t properly conceive. And his physical condition was still the same now. Rather, the heat cycle that suddenly erupted when Terrence first imprinted was a very special and exceptional situation for Ian.

In the end, the internal suppressant was virtually useless except for definitively preventing pregnancy that had no possibility anyway, and reassuring coach Randy.

‘Thank goodness really…’

Still, to prepare for any possibility, Ian resolved to refrain from walking alone among groups of Alphas until his pheromones returned to normal.

“If you wait here, the doctor will come and remove it right away.”

The nurse told Ian matter of factly and left the room. Ian remained alone in the room filled with the scent of disinfectant, quietly waiting with his arm resting on the stand.

‘Please let this solve it…’

Please let Dr. Olsen’s words be the right answer, that if he stopped suppressants, relaxed his mind, and lived healthily, his pheromones would gradually return to normal. Ian closed his eyes with a prayerful heart. But the prayer ended shortly as he heard the sound of a door opening.

“Hello.”

At a voice he had heard once before, Ian immediately opened his eyes.

“We meet again here?”

And he blankly stared at the person greeting him with a prim expression.

“…Vincent.”

“That’s right. You remember my name? I was wondering when I saw just the name on the chart. Nice to see you again, Ian.”

Vincent McCartney. The very Omega who had called Terrence by a pet name at the department store once. His second brother Cedric Hunt’s friend, was it? That person was standing there wearing a white coat with a chart tucked under his arm.

He approached right in front of Ian and looked alternately between the documents and his disinfected forearm.

“Hmm, you came to remove an internal suppressant?”

“…Yes.”

“Let me feel for a moment. Mm, here it is.”

When hands in medical latex gloves carefully pressed on his skin and asked, Ian answered yes.

“Then I’ll anesthetize right away and begin the removal procedure. It’s simple so don’t be too nervous.”

At his words while unwrapping a sterilely packaged syringe, Ian nodded. Whether that was clearly visible was unknown. A green cloth the size of a handkerchief attached to an L-shaped rod on the medical cart was drawn like a curtain, blocking the view between Ian and Vincent. Thanks to that, his face wasn’t visible either.

As if it wasn’t a question expecting an answer, Vincent immediately gave the injection.

“I’ve anesthetized, shall we wait one minute?”

Ian answered “Yes” and waited silently.

A brief quiet silence flowed, and when he was unwrapping a scalpel, Ian carefully spoke.

“…I didn’t know you were a doctor.”

And a doctor at this hospital that he and Terrence attended, at that.

“I don’t look like a doctor, do I? Everyone says that.”

“Yes…”

At Ian’s words, Vincent replied with a slightly laughing voice. It was a smooth tone that seemed like he’d never been intimidated anywhere.

“I’m starting.”

Though not painful, he could still feel pressure like pressing and cutting. Soon came the sound of something that must have come from Ian’s body dropping with a click onto the bottom of a metal container.

“All done. Now I’ll suture, okay?”

“Yes.”

While feeling the sensation of flesh being subtly pulled bit by bit through the small cloth, Vincent naturally spoke toward Ian again as if small talk was routine.

“Originally I had no intention of leaving the research institute I was at, but I happened to see this hospital looking for a variant medicine specialist. I became interested the moment I saw it. It was Kansas City, after all.”

Ian was flustered, thinking there was a bit too much personal information mixed in for small talk with someone he wasn’t close to, but Vincent’s lips didn’t stop chattering away explanations while suturing the wound.

“I was always curious. What exactly is here, what charm does it have that Terrence chose this region? Ah, of course it was probably choosing the team rather than the city.”

“Ah, yes…”

“How good of a place is it that he left and never once returned home? I was always curious. I’d been thinking I wanted to meet him lately anyway. Since that was the case, there was no need to hesitate, right? I submitted my resume right away. And, ta-da. Here I am.”

“……”

Faced with someone who said they moved here without hesitation because Terrence was here, Ian really didn’t know what to answer.

Since they’d been close friends since childhood, were the two like family? Not knowing more about Vincent, Ian could only smile ambiguously without giving any answer.

After receiving such one-sided chatter, Vincent seemed to have finished as he applied disinfectant over the sutured area and carefully attached bandages.

“Be careful not to get it wet for a while. Um, and…”

There was the sound of pages turning as he looked at the chart.

“It says not to take any kind of suppressants or birth control pills. Be especially careful with over the counter medications too.”

“…Yes.”

In an instant, the cloth piece that had been blocking between them was removed. And Vincent, who had risen from his chair, was now looking down at Ian with a somewhat cold expression.

Eyes as blue as a clear sky.

It’s amazing how you can know a person’s mood and emotions from just very subtle expressions, gestures, and looks. At that moment, Ian clearly felt a certain fact. That completely unexpected negative emotions were emanating from him.

“Anyway… removing suppressants. That’s quite surprising.”

“What…?”

“Take care.”

Surprising? However, before Ian could respond to those words, Vincent said goodbye by himself and turned around. Then he disappeared outside the treatment room like the wind, so Ian couldn’t even answer properly.

‘What was that…’

He couldn’t know exactly, but something felt very strange.

Even while leaving the hospital and starting his car, Ian was still thinking about Vincent’s unnatural expression.

However, those thoughts quickly scattered when his phone rang.

When Terrence’s name appeared on the screen, Ian tensed up, swallowed his saliva, and carefully answered the phone.

“Yeah, Terry. What’s up?”

— Where are you now?

This quickwitted bastard. How does he always notice so well whenever Ian acts secretly on his own or does something he feels guilty about? Feeling cold sweat automatically trickling down his spine, Ian quickly turned his head.

“Huh? Ah… I’m on my way back from fieldwork. …Where are you?”

Even though he clearly knew he had been in the general manager’s office until just before, he had no choice but to ask nonchalantly. Ian intended not to act like he knew first until Terrence told him.

— I’m at Wolves headquarters now. I met with the general manager and coach today.

Honest guy… Ian immediately felt remorseful at his frank answer as if he had no intention of lying whatsoever. He had secretly consulted with Dr. Olsen and even decided to remove the suppressant by himself… His conscience suddenly began to ache severely.

“Oh, really? Did you have some business?”

But that didn’t mean he could be truthful even now. He didn’t want to burden the guy who must have been feeling very unpleasant anyway.

Moreover, wasn’t he the very person who had caused Terrence such a serious problem? If his pheromones had been fine, it would have been an illness and humiliation that Terrence wouldn’t have had to experience.

— There were various issues to discuss.

“Will it take long?”

— No, I don’t think it’ll take long.

“That’s good.”

— You’re returning to the office now, right? Shall we leave work together later?

“Good. Of course.”

— Alright. I’ll contact you again when I’m done.

The calm voice disappeared from the speaker. As soon as Ian confirmed the call was completely disconnected, he pressed the accelerator harder and opened his mouth wide.

“1, 2, 3, WOLVES!”

After psyching himself up alone with the chant Terrence shouts when gathering the team during games, he somehow felt energized. The road happened to be wide open too, so the car kept moving forward without stopping.

It wasn’t a bad new start.