DS 24

The man sat cross-legged on the leather sofa. His 190 cm frame was like a cement building made of hard bricks, without an ounce of excess fat. His shiny shoes wiggled back and forth.

“Was it difficult getting here? We’re quite remote.”

A middle-aged man wearing traditional casual wear brought tea. He wore a ridiculous wig and silver-rimmed glasses. Though his clothes were plain, his watch was an expensive brand worth fifty million won. As he sat across from him, the man showed his teeth in a grin.

“Big business is best done in remote places.”

He took out a cigarette pack from inside his jacket and put one in his mouth.

“Give it.”

He jerked his chin briefly toward the back. Bear placed the apple box he’d been holding onto the sofa table with a thud. The table shook from its weight.

“Oh my, Boss… you shouldn’t have. You didn’t need to bring anything.”

The director’s eyes grew wildly large. He rubbed his hands like a fly, clearly coveting what was inside.

“Nonsense, coming empty-handed would be rude. Especially when visiting someone doing such good work.”

The man flicked his ash off. The director’s mouth twitched momentarily at seeing the black ash fall to the floor, but he quickly masked his expression.

“By the way…”

Setting down his teacup, he opened the conversation as if just remembering the main point.

“You said you wanted to make a donation to our orphanage?”

“Yes.”

The man answered lightly and rose from his chair. With the cigarette between his teeth, he slowly walked around the study. Trophies and appreciation plaques filled every space without a gap. It reeked of exhibitionism and base desires.

Of course, these were desires the man himself carried in his chest as well. They were aspirations that could make people filthy and drive them to commit filthy acts.

But that was all – it was utterly ordinary. It was impossible to imagine this place transporting crabs with drugs strapped to their backs. He had been thinking of destroying anyone if he found them rolling their eyes after swallowing heat inducers.

Tsk, the man clicked his tongue. It was becoming troublesome.

“It’s amazing that there are still people like you wanting to do good deeds in today’s world.”

The director followed and stood beside him.

“Actually, I was a bit surprised when I first met you.”

“Why?”

The man asked quietly. His eyes, looking down at the much shorter director, were devoid of emotion.

“Did I look like a gangster to you?”

“N-no…! It’s just that you’re so tall and handsome, like an actor.”

Then he laughed awkwardly, “Ahaha.” The man raised one corner of his mouth and closed the distance between them.

“Because of my size, people often mistake me for a thug who beats people up, but I, Kang Pyeong-won, am not that kind of person.”

The grey smoke from his cigarette twisted upward as it rose.

“Like you, Director, I do lots of good deeds – cleaning up society’s trash, burying things that need burying.”

Though the director turned his head slightly, bothered by the cigarette smoke, the man deliberately moved closer. He exhaled a thick cloud of stale smoke.

“Sometimes, I even burn things.”

A cold silence suddenly fell over the director’s office. The director gulped dryly at these ominous words.

“Pardon…? What do you mean?”

Sweat trickled down under the director’s wig. A fishy smell touched his nose. The man, with his refined tastes, sensitivity to scents, and hatred of filth, became quite displeased. His smile turned cold.

“Oh, yes, it’s a very necessary work.”

The director forced an awkward laugh. His complete change in attitude was laughable. When he first visited the orphanage, the director had rejected him with a pale face, but with one mention of donations, here he was, acting like he’d suck his cock if asked.

Speaking of that, the thought of his cock reminded him of the hole he’d thoroughly stuffed and pounded until dawn. The fragrant scent of flowers in water wafted through his memories.

“The office view is such a killer.”

The man licked his lips, suppressing his lust. Something caught his eye as he turned his gaze.

“You play golf?”

A golf club was leaning against one wall. The man lifted it and tested its weight in his hand.

“No, golf? My back isn’t good enough.”

The director quickly waved his hands. Perhaps thinking it didn’t match his public image of frugality, he rushed to explain.

“I’m too old for exercise. Someone was kind enough and gave it to me as a gift once, and insisted I keep it even when I refused.”

“I see.” The man smiled. As he took a perfect swing stance with the club, the director tried to make conversation again.

“Do you enjoy golf, Boss?”

Whoosh! As the man smoothly turned his waist, his perfectly fitted jacket fluttered. This, too, was a flawless movement without any waste.

“I don’t play – shouldn’t a man exercise and sweat? Such refined sports don’t suit me.”

Something caught the man’s eye as he spoke. There was something reddish on the club head. An unmistakable trace. Blood. And fresh blood at that, only days old.

Things are finally getting interesting, damn it. It was almost laughable. The orphanage director beats people up too – how is he any different from a thug? It’s absolutely ridiculous.

The man’s wandering gaze caught something. A large frame was hanging on the wall.

“That child is quite cute.”

The director’s face showed confusion at the sudden comment. The man smirked and tapped the frame with his middle finger. It contained a group photo of children. He pointed to one of them.

“This one, the pale-faced child.”

White face, short limbs, round eyes. Somehow, the child looked frightened. Like someone who had just been scolded. The clothes the child wore were so shabby they might as well have been picked up from somewhere.

“Ah, you mean Eun-myeong?”

The director recognized immediately when the man mentioned the pale-faced child. The man stood there, leaning on his golf club.

“I raised that child like my own grandchild. Fed him well because he was pretty, changed his diapers, carried him on my back, tsk.”

The man smiled, saying, “Is that so? You’re quite remarkable indeed.”

“At first, the child was ill-mannered. He would cry loudly at night and wet his pants.”

“Ah,” the man sighed softly. As he played along, the director clasped his hands as if reminiscing.

“So I raised him with some… education. Now the child is very docile. Whatever you tell them to do, he just says ‘yes, yes’ and obeys adults without question.”

The man took a deeper drag of his cigarette.

“If he had been born an Omega, everyone would have been fighting to take him, but he turned out to be a Beta.”

The director whispered as if sharing a secret. The man exaggeratedly raised his eyebrows.

“Is that so? That’s strange.”

He tilted his head slightly. For a Beta, he got pretty wet down there, like a flood… He looked down at his fingers.

The hole had been so wet that his fingers had wrinkled. Now, looking at his plump fingers with regret, the man subtly rubbed his nose. The sweet scent of nectar might or might not still be there.

“I was originally planning to arrange his marriage to a distinguished person.”

“Ah, is that so?” the man muttered tonelessly, rubbing his eyebrow with his stiff middle finger.

“Chairman Ko, who’s famous for being the most respected person in this neighborhood.”

“…”

“Whenever he visited, he would always praise our Eun-myeong, saying how cute and pretty he was, like his gentle grandchild.”

Then the director proudly pointed to another frame with both hands.

“Oh, here he is.”

The man’s eyes were drawn to an elderly man was receiving an award there.

Ha, seventies? What nonsense. He looked well into his eighties. An old man with a balding head and a hunchback. Shorter than Eun-myeong, with a face all wrinkled like a sea squirt, but his eyes were alive, gleaming with lust.

“Hmm.”

The man laughed softly. But a pillar of fire was coiling in his lower abdomen. He ground his molars with a crunch. Gradually, his thoughts assembled slowly, decorated with anger.

Where does this anger come from? The director’s shitty appearance? His idiotic way of speaking? The tasteless tea?

…Ah, no.

This bastard is the very one who ordered the Omega heat suppressants to be shoved into that shell. Isn’t that why he came all the way to this dog-forsaken countryside? Damn it, these worthless Alpha bastards couldn’t even get it up…

Noticing that the man’s mood wasn’t right, the director carefully tried to flatter him.

“But Mr. Kang, being so tall and broad-shouldered like this, if you tried playing golf, women would line up for you.”

The man firmly gripped his hand.

“Yeah, I should play sometimes when dealing with guests.”

Like now. The man who muttered quietly tensed his thigh and swung his waist sharply. The head of the golf club shattered the display case with a crash. The innocent glass window broke mercilessly into thousands of pieces.

Among the flying shards, he could see the director’s eyes filled with shock.

“W-what is this…!”