UR Chapter 54

Chapter 54

“President, if you tell me exactly what’s going on, I can handle it in the most appropriate way.”

Listening to Eun Beom-ho, Sung-jun put on his jacket. Inside the pocket, his fingers found the emergency remote button, and he pressed it. He didn’t know what had happened, but in situations like this, the best option was to handle it quickly and get off work.

‘I was hoping nothing would happen…!’

The emergency remote was something he could use at any time for the “emergencies” his boss referred to.

When security was needed, when Beom-ho had to transform into his beast form to resolve something, or, like today, when he mentioned some incident without giving a clear reason.

‘I did want to try using it once… but not the night before my vacation.’

It couldn’t be anything too serious, right? Clenching his fist, Sung-jun walked quickly, feeling the anxiety in his steps.

“You’ll need to tell me exactly what happened so I can fix it, President. If someone saw you in your beast form, or if you killed someone… or if you’re involved with terrorists or a kidnapping, I need to know who’s behind it.”

Static crackled through the line.

“If it’s the last one, I can’t handle it alone, and calling a helicopter won’t be enough. I’d have to report to the Chairman—”

More static, then—

—Kang Soo-hyun collapsed.

“…What?”

Sung-jun could hardly believe his ears.

—Emergency helicopter will arrive at the 00 Hotel rooftop in ten minutes. Emergency code 07-18, handler LC. Confirm?

The words about “collapsing” weren’t even finished before the radio call came through, and Sung-jun quickly responded.

“Yes, handler LC. Codename 0322. Confirmed. Please proceed quickly.”

—……

Leaving his strangely silent boss on the phone, Sung-jun answered the radio and strode out to open the emergency door. Through the dark window, heavy white snow was falling in thick clumps. A violent, swirling wind swept in, blurring his vision. He strained to hear his boss’s next words.

—So I’m taking them home. Ah, and call the family doctor too.

“President, kidnapping is considered a serious crime under human law. Human law takes precedence over beastman law. If you intentionally take an unconscious person and confine them, you could face up to three years in prison. You are aware of this, yes?”

Sung-jun spoke with extra weight in his voice. Beastmen with strong predator instincts sometimes did outrageous things that defied human common sense. He regretted not being right beside Beom-ho now.

—Kidnapping?

“Well, you just said you were taking them straight to your house. Did they consent to that?”

He switched on the helicopter landing guide lights as snow whipped around him.

“Even if you fell for them at first sight, if you take someone unconscious to your house without permission, that’s kidnapping.”

—…It’s not kidnapping.

The helicopter’s rotor whine echoed faintly.

“You’re sure?”

Sung-jun raised his voice, but the wind was deafening. The howl of the blizzard and the static from the phone made his words shatter like broken glass.

Frowning, he shouted louder.

“President, I start my vacation tomorrow!”

The fierce snowstorm lashed his cheeks without mercy. Snow stung his skin, and his glasses fogged up on the inside. Pulling them off, he exhaled onto the lenses and wiped them on his coat.

“I do not want to end up at the police station tomorrow, you hear me?”

It was hard to tell if it was a plea or a threat—his voice was desperate.

“I am not canceling my trip and paying penalties again this year! At this rate, I’m going to end up blacklisted by the travel agency foreverrr—!”

Eun Beom-ho came rushing into the helipad with a man in his arms, his face pale. Perhaps because of the sudden, fierce snowstorm, white snow was piled thickly on his black hair. He brushed the snow away with his hand and caught his breath.

“Sung-jun.”

“Is this the person?”

In Beom-ho’s arms was an unconscious man, limp and with his eyes closed. Brown hair damp from the snowstorm, white skin, red lips. He was a young-looking man.

For someone supposedly on a blind date with a CEO in his early thirties, his colorful clothes and youthful face made him look far too young—at a glance, he could have been mistaken for a high school student.

“Sir.”

Sung-jun narrowed his eyes and asked cautiously, suspicion in his expression.

“…He looks very young.”

“……”

“He’s not a minor, is he?”

The question came quickly as Sung-jun glanced between the man and the CEO. Beom-ho, still holding him protectively, brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. The smooth, fair skin was damp with sweat.

“No. What are you talking about… The helicopter?”

“They said the snow forecast is causing a one-minute delay. Ah, here it comes—”

Thud-thud-thud-thud—

Before Sung-jun could finish his signal check, the helicopter broke through the blizzard and landed at the helipad. Heavy, wet snow swirled violently in the engine’s gale. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was safe to fly in weather like this—or if they’d crash and die.

His teeth chattered from unease. In his mind, it might have been faster for Beom-ho to transform into his beast form and cross the mountain on foot, though he had no desire to actually see that form—he found it scarier than flying in a helicopter.

So he kept that thought to himself.

“Is he conscious?”

“Yes. His pulse seems normal for now, so I called Kim Sung-woo to check what’s wrong.”

“You mean Dr. Kim Sung-woo, the beastman specialist?”

“That’s right.”

Buckle clicking into place, Sung-jun lifted a finger to give the signal to depart.

If not for the snow, taking the roads would have been fine, but with the heavy, un-cleared snowfall, traffic in Seoul was sure to be a mess.

“Wouldn’t it be better to go to a hospital?”

Pressing the seatbelt button, Sung-jun held the back of his hand close to the man’s face. Since he was unconscious, there was a chance his breathing was affected. Thankfully, he could feel the faint, ticklish breath against his skin.

“He said he doesn’t want to go to a hospital.”

Beom-ho glanced at his watch, as if checking whether they could get home quickly enough. Watching him, Sung-jun spoke carefully.

“Why not? If we went to the Samho Foundation hospital, it would be fine.”

“Sung-jun, if you want to see my mother and grandfather show up in under thirty minutes to watch, then go ahead.”

Beom-ho smiled without warmth. The chill in his tone made Sung-jun bow his head immediately.

“My apologies.”

“Let’s get going.”

Beom-ho tapped his watch twice, a silent push to hurry home.

“By the way… Sir, are you in rut?”

Wearing his noise-canceling headset, Sung-jun asked the question. With the deafening roar around them, their conversation couldn’t be overheard.

“What?”

He frowned and asked back.

“Since your partner here is a half-beastman, I have to ask—if he collapsed from being overwhelmed by your pheromones, things could get serious. If you flooded him with rut pheromones, you need to say so. He has to be treated properly to avoid lasting side effects.”

Until now, Beom-ho had always handled his rut alone. Those around him knew he confined himself and took strong medication during those times. Though he had never caused an incident, his personal physician had always warned him: “You can’t handle it alone forever.”

“Not yet.”

The denial was firm. He sighed once, then said in a hard voice,

“People assume pureblood beastmen are closer to animals because we can transform into them.”

His tone was faintly sharp.

“But in this respect, animals are often more rational than humans.”

“In that case, I’ll inform Dr. Kim that pheromones from rut aren’t the cause. If you have any guesses, I’d appreciate it if you told me.”

Checking the time on his phone, Sung-jun looked up.

“Ah.”

Beom-ho seemed to think seriously for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

“Tell him to start with an allergy test.”

“Allergy test? Did he eat something at the hotel?”

Opening his phone’s notes app, Sung-jun typed the message with quick taps. Adjusting his glasses, he shot a sidelong glance at Beom-ho, who said,

“He had three different course meals at the hotel.”

“Three course meals? And you mean he ate all of them? Even for a human, that would be difficult. Couldn’t he have just collapsed from overeating?”

Sung-jun’s expression clearly said he couldn’t understand it. A blind date on Christmas Eve was supposed to be for getting acquainted, not stuffing someone until they burst.

And this half-beastman was obviously small and slim. The fact that the CEO could so casually admit to letting him eat all that made Sung-jun doubt his judgment.

“I didn’t feed him. He ate well—like a puppy.”

“…A puppy, huh.”

At that, Sung-jun’s face said plainly, “What are you even talking about…”