The Eastern Liquors executive approached Yang Jin-man, one eye narrowed.
“Hey, Yang Jin-man. Are you talking to me right now? Damn it, you keep staring at me…”
“Boss, boss!”
Just as it seemed a commotion would break out, someone flung open the boss’s office door without knocking. It was Jin-yong. His face flushed, he glanced around the room as if sensing something was off, hesitated for a moment, then convinced himself his message was more important.
“Um, he’s here. That prosecutor.”
“Who?”
Yang Jin-man’s face, twisted in annoyance moments before, turned toward Jin-yong.
“That prosecutor. The one who reported our hotel.”
At those words, Marvin—who’d been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed at a distance—unfolded his arms and straightened up.
“Prosecutor Jang Jin-woo?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Jang Jin-woo!”
Jin-yong nodded at Marvin confirmingly.
“What the hell’s he doing here now? Hah, shit… did they come to seize evidence?”
Yang Jin-man’s face turned pale, and he bowed his head in fear.
“No, he came alone. He said he wants to apply for an Allocation System bid.”
“Allocation System? He came here to fuck around?”
The room fell quiet as if cold water had been poured over it. Yang Jin-man looked at his transporter friend, who glanced back and forth between Yang Jin-man and Jin-yong. Then, as if remembering something, he burst into loud laughter.
“Hahaha! See? I told you. He must expect something. Ha! Once he sees the seeds he sowed have grown, he comes to harvest. He’s here to entertain us! Damn, he’s sly. Smart fellow, isn’t he?”
“Is that so?”
Yang Jin-man looked unconvinced.
“Of course it is! Act like you don’t know and bow down properly. Are any of the guys on shift today? Yoon-seong? No. Jae-hwan—he’s good. Hey, call Song Jae-hwan and tell him to get here fast. The boss’s looking for him.”
The transporter friend instructed Jin-yong to fetch an Omega for entertainment. But Jin-yong shook his head, as if to say that wasn’t it.
“Well… he’s already designated me.”
“Huh? Who?”
Yang Jin-man finally snapped back to attention and asked; Jin-yong’s gaze slid subtly back to Marvin. He licked his lips nervously. Yang Jin-man’s eyes followed his, then widened as if realizing something. Marvin’s expression began to tighten.
The elevator doors opened quietly on the fourth-floor corridor. Marvin, glance downcast, lifted his head and stepped out. The entire corridor was silent—the Allocation System clients’ visits had dried up, and no VIP rooms had opened for a while.
He saw a corner of the carpet buckling. Pressing it down with his shoe, he frowned at what he’d heard was newly installed last year already showing defects. He kept rubbing the spot with one foot while pondering.
Should I go in, or not?
He’d been thoroughly thrown when he heard Prosecutor Jang Jin-woo had named him as the Omega for the Allocation System entertainment and was waiting for him in the room. It made sense he’d hidden his Omega status and Trait Carrier record from everyone.
“No way—you’re an Omega?”
Yang Jin-man’s transporter friend’s eyes bulged as if only he had been unaware. Marvin immediately played it off.
“No, I’m just doing it on purpose. I had some business with him last time.”
“What kind of business? Jesus, this prosecutor bastard has some inventive ways to screw people over.”
He was grateful for the Eastern Liquors executive’s dismissive reaction. Treating it as such nonsense helped Marvin immensely.
“Anyway, go up. If he wants anything, ask him to send someone.”
Yang Jin-man licked his lips and stared at Marvin with suspicion.
Did they catch on?
Leaving the room with the promise to explain it clearly to the somewhat pathetic-looking man, Marvin now stood in front of that door again. Three weeks ago, he’d stood in the exact same spot. The brutal headache he’d felt then had faded, but an unpleasant anxiety had taken its place.
What scheme is this? If he had something to say, he could have just sent a summons as before. If it was urgent, he could have called. Charging in like a declaration of war and designating me as an entertainer feels like an invitation to screw me over.
Damn, people really… I begged him to keep this secret…
A surge of emotion rose up. He hadn’t expected any humanity from Jang Jin-woo, but he hadn’t imagined being treated so cheaply. Without realizing it, he’d given him more credit than deserved. Gritting his lip, Marvin knocked.
Knock knock.
“May I come in?”
After a second, he opened the door. Marvin halted slightly as he entered. The room was dazzlingly bright. The long table held no drinks or snacks. With the lights turned up full blast, every bit of aging equipment in the room stood revealed.
The outdated karaoke machine, the faux-leather sofa, the veneer table masquerading as solid wood—all the masks had fallen away, and the space now felt like an interrogation room, not a place for secret talks.
Unlike before, Jang Jin-woo didn’t even bother with a forced smile. He stood stiffly, staring at the framed photos on the wall—old, signed photos of entertainers. Not the most famous, but recognizable faces nonetheless. His gaze lingered longest on the photo of the VIXY Entertainment CEO with Yang Jin-man.
“I hear you asked for me.”
Despite sensing someone entering, he didn’t turn, so Marvin spoke first.
Jang Jin-woo slowly turned his head toward Marvin, then scanned him from head to toe.
“Am I mistaken? You seem to wear the same clothes every time.”
It wasn’t a mistake. Marvin always wore the same style: a white shirt and a black jacket, just as when he first came here a year ago. His time had stopped there—a kind of self-hypnosis to show he’d never become—or wanted to become—anyone else.
“I’m not very interested in clothes.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Looks that way.”
He tossed out that ambiguous remark, then fell silent again. His face was as indifferent as ever, but something about the atmosphere felt different today.
Marvin realized he’d made an effort with his attire. He must have come from an important engagement—his suit was well-fitted, complete with a vest and a tie. It was formality, not fashion.
“You must’ve been somewhere. You look sharp.”
He let out a nearly imperceptible smile at the half-hearted compliment.
“You haven’t improved your flattery at all.”
Marvin’s expression soured. What choice did he have? He hadn’t said it to make Jang Jin-woo feel good. He needed some small icebreaker or they’d have nothing to discuss.
They weren’t close enough for pleasantries, and he still didn’t know why Jang Jin-woo had called him here—whether to be hostile or cautious.
But one thing needed clearing first.
“I heard you designated me as an Allocation System Omega entertainer.”
Jang Jin-woo nodded willingly.
“Yes.”
“You must’ve forgotten—I don’t entertain clients.”
“That’s a shame.”
He shrugged with no hint of regret, openly admitting he’d done it on purpose.
“Shall I call another Omega, then?”
Knowing it wasn’t a Rut visit, Marvin deliberately changed the subject as a power play.
“No. It’s fine. I came to see Kim Ma-bin.”
“Then you could’ve just called me. Why expose my Trait after promising to keep it secret?”
“When did I ever agree to keep it secret?”
Jang Jin-woo looked genuinely puzzled. Marvin clenched his jaw. True, he’d never explicitly agreed…
“I asked you so many times. You didn’t deny it, so I thought we had an unspoken agreement. Are you doing this for fun?”
They weren’t close, but he shouldn’t have needed to put on such an act. Even if they’d barely interacted, they’d crossed paths three or four times already. Spreading word of his weakness for no gain, just to harass him, was inhuman.
You’re not that much of a bastard, are you?
Of course, no one might agree with that. Marvin couldn’t swear it himself. He’d instinctively hoped that whoever held his weakness wouldn’t be completely without conscience. Facing the opposite felt bewildering.