The salty sea breeze slashed against the exposed skin beneath his coat, merciless and biting. The old man stared silently into the abyss of the pitch-black sea. The strands of silver and white in his hair, replacing what was once dark, stood as proof of the years he had endured.
Standing at the railing of the weathered boat and looking out over the sea, the old man clicked his tongue and let out an unintelligible mutter.
“Pathetic bastard.”
His voice was sharp, cutting through the night with a strength that did not match his aged appearance. His thick wrists, his straightened back, his solid build. The only parts of the old man’s body that bore the marks of time were his wrinkled skin and his white, graying hair.
“Chairman, the dock connection is complete. You can disembark now.”
At the sound of the captain’s voice coming from behind, Chairman Jung’s gaze, which had been sinking toward the sea, shifted forward. Without a hint of hesitation, Chairman Jung began to walk. His attitude was utterly brazen, despite having slipped aboard under the cover of darkness to avoid prying eyes.
The captain, having received a bundle of cash, fawned with a “Take care on your way,” his obsequious voice clinging to Chairman Jung’s back. Yet, even with such a servile farewell, Chairman Jung didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder.
The moment he set foot on the gangway connecting the boat to the shore, a wave surged in, causing the vessel to rock. As if this were nothing at all, Chairman Jung maintained his usual stoic expression, stretching out his legs and moving forward with ease. His light, steady movements showed full composure.
Climbing onto land with heavy steps, Chairman Jung furrowed his thick, gray-tinged eyebrows. Perhaps it was because he had reached the harbor, but the distinct fishy stench of the sea suddenly stung his nose anew. Though the boat he’d used for illegal entry was relatively comfortable as far as such vessels went, drifting over the ocean for more than ten hours had left him utterly sick of the sea’s briny smell.
Knowing full well that he couldn’t shake off the odor, the old man still raised a hand and brushed off his coat with a few sharp flicks. At that moment, headlights flared on from a black car that had been melding into the darkness, its shape camouflaged. As if it were only natural, he turned his steps toward it, and a figure sprang out from the passenger seat.
“Chairman Jung, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve been sent by Sunha.”
A man in a neatly pressed suit bowed slightly, his posture tinged with nervousness.
“Were you sent by Sunha’s eldest son?”
“Yes. I’ve heard much about you. Please, allow me to escort you.”
Chairman Jung settled into the car as the man opened the door for him. Though his body, which had been mercilessly scratched by the sea breeze, was now enveloped in warm air, the old man’s expressionless face showed no sign of relaxing.
“Go.”
“Yes, sir.”
At the curt command, the car smoothly rolled forward. The old alpha turned his sharp gaze to the sea outside, his posture ramrod straight despite the plush leather seats. He retraced the miscalculation that had led to his current predicament.
Never—not even in his wildest dreams—had he imagined that Lee Yootae would betray him. He had taken in a filthy, penniless wretch with nothing to his name, only for that kindness to be repaid with betrayal.
“Should I take you to a hotel, sir?”
“No. Take me to my house.”
At the firm reply, the man in the passenger seat hesitated slightly before glancing back.
“Director Yeon might catch wind of this. Are you sure it’s wise?”
“He’ll notice me regardless. Even if it was an illegal entry, he’ll know. I plan to meet him in person anyway, so just head straight to my place.”
“Understood.”
The mention of Director Yeon made him think of the fighting dog he had once raised.
Among the countless alphas that had passed through his hands, that one had been of the finest breed. It spoke volumes that he still remembered a nameless, discarded guy, out of all the alphas and omegas he had raised. When he had trained the guy with a strict hand and eventually sold him off, he never imagined that a mere fighting dog would survive and come to threaten him.
Back then, the ones who truly held power in South Korea were not the politicians or the conglomerates, but the organized crime syndicates. There was a time when even the most influential businessmen and political figures were wary of their actions. And among those syndicates, the most notorious was the Yeonbeom faction, which reigned over Seoul. As with all power struggles, the organisation was bound to have a high number of enemies.
Sold into such a group at a young age, Chairman Jung thought he’d die quickly. Chairman Jung never imagined he’d survive and even come to bear the name Yeon Woobeom.
“I never could have imagined he’d go so far as to bite his owner to death and even start passing himself off as human…”
Nor did Chairman Jung ever anticipate that he’d conspire with the other dogs the old man had raised to come strangle him.
The life of fleeing from the young alpha was bearable enough. One thing Chairman Jung had in abundance was cash, and with that amount of money, living comfortably in a third country was no trouble at all. The real issue was the mental strain. No matter where he went, the watchers that the bastard had planted followed close behind. Every time he sensed an unfamiliar presence, the old man trembled with anxiety, never knowing when he might be killed.
It was only after a considerable amount of time had passed that the white-haired, aging alpha realized the truth. Director Yeon had no intention of letting him die easily. It seemed he planned to toy with him until he broke down from nervous exhaustion, then toss him as prey to the other dogs once he grew bored.
“Pardon, sir? Did you say something?”
It seemed that, with age, his self-mutterings had grown louder.
“It’s nothing. More importantly, are you certain my grandson is with that bastard… no, Director Yeon?”
“Since he always brings the boy along, there are no photos, but based on the circumstances, it’s certain. I tried making contact, but since the other side consists of alphas from the Jiwoo faction… My apologies.”
“I see, so that’s how it is.”
He clicked his tongue again and fell silent. He was intensely curious whether that guy had touched his grandson. That omega had been meticulously raised with great care, to be sold at a high price. He had trained that omega to obey any alpha’s command without question and deliberately kept him frail to prevent any attempt of escaping.
Roughly calculating the time, he wondered if the omega’s heat cycle, which had been suppressed for years, might have finally erupted. If he had already been claimed by an alpha, his value would plummet—and that would be a real pity.
However, the eldest of the Sunha Group still would likely buy his grandson. They needed a dominant omega who would bear a child with a good lineage. There was even a possibility the group would pay a higher price just because the omega had been taken by that bastard.
“As for the personal details of Lee Yootae, which you previously requested, I regret to say I haven’t yet uncovered them. He’s currently listed as missing, with no death report filed, but I’ll soon find out and inform you. My apologies.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Chairman Jung said, waving his hand dismissively.
“He’s probably already dead.”
The image of a young boy’s face flashed into his mind—blood dripping over his eyelids.
He vaguely recalled the fierce, murderous glare in those eyes, staring at him with desperate intent to kill. He had thought it might actually be worth something.
***
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