“Let’s go through this step by step. Do you know exactly what drug the late Park Juseong took just before having sex with you that day?”
“It’s an expression agent… an excitant that brings on heat.”
“It’s the narcotic hormonal drug known as manifestamphetamine. Is that correct?”
“Yes….”
At the word narcotic, Seong I-jun pressed his lips together. He’d known, but hearing it bluntly felt repulsive. That’s why people give drugs nicknames: to hide behind a name that sounds harmless, to escape reality.
“It seems long-term. How long did you take it?”
“About six months.”
“Were you aware of its side effects?”
“……”
He said nothing—if he admitted knowing, he could be charged with aiding and abetting.
“Did the deceased Park Juseong know?”
“…Yes.”
“Then why did he insist on taking it?”
“He said if you keep taking it you’d really express… and that if he became Omega, it’d be good for you too.”
Though that amounted to a confession, Jang Jin-woo didn’t press further. Having gotten what he needed, he moved on to other questions—safe ones unlikely to cause trouble: how they met, when they started living together, who paid living expenses.
As the straightforward dialogue continued, Seong I-jun lifted his head and began meeting Jang’s gaze. Answers that had been yes or no now gained flesh and extra explanation.
Marvin thought Seong’s appearance was quite decent. Even accounting for his haggard look from running, he wasn’t an ordinary person. He likely had been an idol trainee at the same agency as Park Juseong.
His character was still uncertain. The hotel dance-team testimony had labeled him violent and a jerk who treated his lover like trash, but in this interrogation he seemed timid and fearful.
Why did he run? If he thought he could save him and went for the drug, he should have returned.
“What was that antidote you mentioned?”
“They call it a detox agent. It removes the accumulated toxin from your body.”
“Does it work?”
“According to Juseong, it felt like reverting to Beta, which annoyed him—so it must work.”
“Has this happened often?”
“Not every time—about once in ten doses.”
Jang Jin-woo’s questions had now reached the point Marvin had wondered about. Seong answered diligently, as if hoping for leniency.
“The dealer said from the start to take these as a set. If you get breathing difficulty, you have to take it. But side effects don’t happen every time. It’d be a waste of money. So recently, Juseong switched to that alone.”
“Where from?”
“There’s someone who frequents the hotel where Juseong works—Executive Director Heo. He sells all the drugs.”
At mention of the hotel, Jang turned to Marvin. Marvin nodded slightly; the name matched one of the Eastern Liquors goons who’d been pestering him to work together.
“They said unlike the original, this has no side effects and if you keep taking it you’ll really express. It’s not given to just anyone, but since Juseong was a regular, he got special treatment.”
“What’s the price?”
“Almost the same as before. They said you couldn’t get it at this price later, so since we lost nothing, we switched last month. But after about a week, I really got heat.”
The two listeners both looked up. Seong added more detail.
“I was barely coherent. We had sex for two days straight, and I really hit heat. We thought he’d expressed, so Juseong was happy. But when we went to the hospital, they said he wasn’t a true Omega. His trait ratio was high but not diagnosable, they said.”
Jang nodded and wrote something. Marvin peeked:
““Statement matches autopsy results.””
He circled it and added the number “7.”
Knowing the answer already, Marvin sensed Jang closing in on the truth. But Marvin himself didn’t know what differed between the drugs he and Park had taken. Both had taken seven days; one expressed immediately, the other hit but didn’t express and then died.
What was different?
“So did you keep taking the drug after that?”
“I only resumed recently. After that one heat, we could have sex without it for a while.”
Jang raised an eyebrow.
“You could have anyway, right?”
“Well… I don’t like sleeping with Betas.”
Seong gave an uneasy grin, gauging Jang’s reaction as if to say, “You’d understand if you were Alpha, right?”
“A true Omega bleeds afterward. The passage widens quickly. And it… feels different going in…”
With a serious face, Seong explained at length why sex with an Omega was superior and neatly summarized the effects seen when a Beta took an expression agent.
In short, the new drug was really good—better even than with a true Omega, he said.
“Could you both not have sex without the drug?”
“It’s not that. But once you start with this agent, you can’t stop. I tried to dissuade him, of course. But he said it felt too good.”
Marvin watched Seong’s ramblings in silence. Over his face, he saw the greenish corpse of Park Juseong superimposed. The hotel staff’s prejudice seemed half a misunderstanding.
Seong I-jun wasn’t a thug but trash—a selfish, cowardly, human scum… the scum of the scum, a Beta’s idea of an Alpha, as they’d crudely put it.
“I understand. That’s enough for today.”
Suddenly standing, Jang gathered the scattered papers. Marvin, who’d been silently seething at the fratricidal tragedy, snapped back to reality.
It seemed over sooner than expected. Marvin looked at Jang, but he was already closing his bag. Seong also rose awkwardly at the unexpectedly swift end.
“Um, Prosecutor. Will I be released soon?”
Jang clicked his tongue as if incredulous.
“Of course not.”
Flustered, Seong stammered.
“Why? I didn’t give it to him. As I said, he took it because he wanted to… and also….”
But Jang gave no response. The mood had been amiable just moments ago. Seong’s face darkened with sudden alarm. Perhaps the detective had told him if he answered well and asked for leniency, he wouldn’t remain in custody. He was a fool.
“Why didn’t you come back?”
“Pardon?”
Seong looked at Marvin. The usually silent man had suddenly spoken, leaving him puzzled. Jang, turning from the door, watched Marvin ask a question of the suspect without permission.
“You said you went for antidote on the day of the incident. Why didn’t you return home? Didn’t you worry?”
“I did return… but the police were all over the house…”
“Were you afraid?”
“…Yes. But I didn’t kill him. Isn’t it my choice whether to return? Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here.”
He looked between them, wronged. Jang narrowed his eyes and explained flatly.
“Seong I-jun, you are currently under investigation as possessing a prohibited drug and for aiding in the death of your partner, the late Park Juseong. Even if you saw him dying and didn’t stop him, that’s punishable. When you’re formally sent to the prosecution, we’ll meet again. If you feel wronged, raise it then. Find a lawyer quickly.”
At that, the door opened and the investigator returned. Marvin saw Seong’s wrists handcuffed again, his face flushed.
Unfortunately, aiding and abetting doesn’t carry a huge sentence. Jang Jin-woo knew that well himself. Yet he frightened him—perhaps his way of justice, or a professional tactic to ease later investigation.
Jang knocked on the door gently, signaling Marvin’s attention—what are you waiting for?
Disturbed, Marvin stepped out. One thing was clear: something mimicking the Stage-Two Expression Agent had indeed been released. And of all places, where he was hiding…
“Let’s get something to eat.”
At the sudden suggestion, Marvin looked up. Without a trace of pity for Park or disgust at Seong, Jang asked, “How about pufferfish soup?” He said he knew a good place. His tone was so straightforward that Marvin couldn’t respond. Taking his silence as assent, Jang walked on ahead.