UR Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“Anyway, if that came off as rude, I apologize. Please feel free to take it with a grain of salt.”

“Rude? Not at all. I think it’s a great idea. You’re a genius.”

Eun Beom-ho’s lips curved naturally into a smooth, relaxed smile.

As the two exchanged glances, a loud beep, beep suddenly interrupted the moment—Beom-ho’s smartwatch, blaring with yet another warning. The screen flashed red, displaying an elevated BPM.

It wasn’t as high as when he’d run into that baby student at the convenience store yesterday, but now, just thinking about that moment was enough to trigger a warning. Beom-ho’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“That thing’s been going off a lot lately.”

Sung-jun muttered under his breath.

“Sung-jun.”

Beom-ho called his name calmly as he silenced the alert on his watch.

“Tell Ji-ho I want to see him.”

“Ugh… it’s freezing.”

A man muttered to himself, pulling his hoodie low over his face. He watched the dry leaves skittering across the wind, shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, and bounced on his feet. His pale bare feet peeked out under his pants, dragging along in worn-out slippers.

“God, the wind’s been insane since yesterday.”

He mumbled again as his shoulder bumped into the building’s front door. Thunk. With a low thud, the glass revolving door swung open, the cold outdoor air clashing with the warm current inside the building. His breath left a visible mark right where his shoulder hit the glass. A security guard posted near the entrance stood up in alarm at the sight of him.

“Ah, sorry about that—”

The man gave a sheepish wave and bowed his head with a friendly grin. The guard, who had moved in a flustered panic, eased up and sat back down after seeing his laid-back apology.

The man dug into his pocket and beep—scanned a plastic ID card. The connected screen by the entrance displayed:
“SW Engineer / Eun Ji-ho.”

A uniformed lobby attendant compared the name on the screen to the man entering, then buzzed him in.

“Good morning, Mr. Eun Ji-ho.”

A sharply dressed employee bowed politely.
Unlike most companies where you just scan your card and walk in, KAPS was a specialized security firm. Even getting through the front entrance required strict screening.

“Morning—”

Eun Ji-ho answered casually, pushing up the loose blue plastic frames slipping down his nose.
In a lobby full of people hurrying around in pressed suits, the sight of a man in a hoodie and slippers stood out like a sore thumb. But oddly enough, no one really stared. In fact, those who passed him offered polite nods like it was nothing new.

His bare feet dragging in worn slippers reflected clearly on the polished building floor. Beyond the expansive view offered by the floor-to-ceiling windows, bright red banners flapped wildly in the wind. Ji-ho instinctively turned back for a better look at the unfamiliar sight.

[Punish violent crimes committed by beastmen!]

It was a banner, handwritten in bold red ink. A few people stood, holding it high as they shouted out slogans. Eun Ji-ho’s eyes widened.

[We’re too scared to live—Separate them from humans!]

He was reminded of a conversation from the tiger beastmen family gathering just the day before—specifically about the dangers of beastmen transforming into their true forms. There’d been a recent news report about a beastman killing a person. Apparently, it was about a large wolf who had transformed into his beast form and killed someone several years ago.

The news had painted it with a heavy-handed tone: that while people admire beastmen, even imitate them by wearing animal ears or tails for fun, the truth is that beastmen are incredibly dangerous and should be approached with caution and seriousness.

At the time, Ji-ho had brushed it off, figuring the media was just being sensational for clicks—as usual.

Now, narrowing his eyes, Eun Ji-ho stared at the fluttering banners outside.

‘That thing is huge.’

Apparently, the news coverage on beastman dangers had struck a nerve.

Bzzzz—

As he stood there spacing out, watching the banners wave, his phone began to vibrate.

“Hello—?”

—Eun Ji-ho. Why aren’t you here yet.

The sharp, firm voice belonged to his older cousin, Eun Beom-ho.
Ji-ho smiled and answered cheerfully.

“I’m almost there! Where should I go?”

“Hyung!”

A familiar voice called out in front of the gym steps, where Eun Beom-ho was seated, drinking water. He lifted the edge of the towel slung around his neck to wipe the sweat from his brow, then turned toward the source of the voice.

Standing there was his younger cousin, Eun Ji-ho, wearing his signature blue horn-rimmed glasses and a hoodie with a game logo plastered on the front—he looked every bit the overgrown kid.

“I called you earlier. What took you so long?”

Beom-ho asked quietly. Though Ji-ho was technically his cousin, their relationship had always been close. Maybe it was because Beom-ho had known him since he was a baby, or maybe it was just Ji-ho’s naturally clingy and playful demeanor—either way, they were fairly affectionate for family.

“You looked focused on your workout. I just stepped out for a quick smoke.”

Ji-ho pulled an e-cigarette from the front pocket of his hoodie. Like most tiger beastmen, he was a heavy smoker—he simply couldn’t live without it. Some even said smoking addiction was a genetic trait of tiger beastmen. How else would you explain the phrase “back when tigers used to smoke”?
But still, the image of a tiger puffing on an e-cigarette… Beom-ho winced.

“Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of your health? You said you’d quit smoking this year. Should I tell your mom?”

“Don’t! If Mom finds out, I’m dead, hyung.”

Ji-ho pressed his index finger against Beom-ho’s lips, shaking his head in dramatic protest.

“Please, CEO-nim, have mercy.”

“If you know it’ll kill you, maybe try quitting for real?”

Beom-ho chuckled, giving his cousin an amused look.

“Ugh, of course it tastes—wait, why did you call me here anyway?”

As friendly as Beom-ho was, Ji-ho knew he wasn’t the type to call people out of the blue just to chat. He was busy. He was distant. Even if he smiled warmly, Eun Beom-ho was cold and strict at his core—a typical, no-nonsense male tiger, completely different from his own cheerful, attention-loving white tiger personality.

“Ji-ho. Can you check if this thing’s working properly?”

Beom-ho abruptly held out his right wrist. It was still damp with heat after an intense workout. Ji-ho blinked, puzzled, as he looked at his cousin’s wrist, thick with raised veins and muscle.

Beom-ho was hopeless with anything tech-related. No matter how much Ji-ho explained, he’d usually just stare blankly and say, “Explain it so I can actually understand.”

Ji-ho, who worked in the company’s dev department as a software engineer, spent most of his time alone. Even though they were cousins, they mostly communicated through the company’s internal messenger. Neither of them made much effort to advertise their family ties at work.

That mutual professionalism was something Ji-ho respected—it kept things fair and neutral.

“Looks like it’s glitching? Is that why you called me?”

Which is why he now couldn’t quite understand this situation.

“Yeah. Seems like it’s giving off errors every now and then.”

Ah… Ji-ho let out a small sigh, glancing again at Beom-ho’s wrist.

The smartwatch wrapped in a white silicone band blinked softly. Since he’d just finished working out, the sleek screen displayed a cheerful message:
“You’ve completed another active day of exercise!”

“What kind of error?”

Ji-ho pulled off the silicone band with a slide. The watch blinked green, as if still proud of itself.

“Heart rate spikes at weird times.”

“Are you sure it’s the device? Not you?”

“I’m healthy.”

Beom-ho shrugged. His shoulder flexed under his rolled-up sleeve, thick muscle rippling beneath his skin.

As a workout enthusiast, Beom-ho’s body was as tough as it looked. When he transformed, he had the stamina and strength to cross mountain ranges without breaking a sweat.

He was in peak physical condition both as a beastman and as a human. There was no reason to suspect any health issues.

Given how durable and powerful he was, even among tiger beastmen, Ji-ho nodded in reluctant agreement. Still, he mumbled to himself, “That’s weird…” while examining the watch from different angles.

The smartwatch was part of a health monitoring system Ji-ho had developed for beastmen. It was currently in beta testing with athletic users like Beom-ho.

He had told his testers to report anything unusual, but he hadn’t expected to be summoned like this—at such an odd time—because of a supposed device malfunction.
He knew there was a chance that some of the new features he’d updated were clashing, but still… broken already?

Ji-ho stared at the device in disbelief.

“Alright, I’ll have to dig into this more to figure out what’s wrong. In the meantime, I’ll give you one of the sensors you can use in beast form too. It’s a watch that works even when you’re transformed into a tiger.”

He rummaged through his bag, which was tossed carelessly nearby. From the depths of it, he pulled out a leather collar for animal use—a sleek, stylish piece with the Samho corporate emblem, a small triangular logo, engraved on it.