“Oh dear, you must’ve been terrified. But don’t worry—it wasn’t intentional. We checked the CCTV footage, and the guy suddenly jumped out into the road. His injuries are minor too, so there’s nothing you need to worry about anymore.”
As Team Leader Oh handed him a cup of coffee, Choi Wonjoon put on a politely relieved expression that looked completely insincere.
“That’s a relief. My heart was pounding earlier.”
“That’s only natural. Anyone would be shaken after hitting a person with their car.”
Then Team Leader Oh shot Yieum a meaningful look, gesturing for him to come over.
Yieum had been interrogating the arrested suspect and initially pretended not to notice, but after several increasingly obvious signals, he reluctantly walked over. The team leader patted him on the back with forced cheerfulness.
“Thank you again for dropping the complaint. Our Inspector Kim really isn’t that kind of person. There must’ve been some misunderstanding.”
“Yes, of course.”
Wonjoon smiled mildly.
“Looking back, I wasn’t entirely blameless either. I regret handling things so emotionally.”
Team Leader Oh looked genuinely impressed.
“Wow, your heart’s as wide as the Pacific Ocean. Your employees must adore you. If the company owner is someone this understanding, going to work must feel like a blessing. Haha. Right, Detective Kim?”
Yieum couldn’t openly sneer, so he settled for a dead-eyed expression instead.
Team Leader Oh was fundamentally a decent man, but he wasn’t free of snobbery either. He threw himself sincerely into investigations, yes—but that didn’t make him naive. Right now, he was clearly terrified that one of his detectives had offended a chaebol heir and might drag the entire team into an exhausting mess.
“I should get going now. I was on my way to work.”
“Ah, of course. You must be very busy.”
Wonjoon rose from his seat, and Team Leader Oh immediately shot Yieum another look, silently ordering him to escort the man out at the very least.
Suppressing his irritation, Yieum followed him outside.
A secretary waited nearby beside a parked car. Yieum recognized him immediately—the same man he’d seen in the lobby the first time he visited Sehwa Construction.
Yieum stood there wishing both of them would disappear as quickly as possible when Wonjoon casually pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Smoke curled lazily into the air as he turned toward Yieum.
“Stop glaring at me like that. I even caught the criminal for you.”
“You said it was an accident.”
“That’s right.”
Wonjoon grinned.
“An accident with very clear intentions.”
There was unmistakable mischief in his smile.
He really does have a different face for every occasion, Yieum thought.
And somehow, every single one of them only made him more irritated.
“What the hell were you thinking, hitting someone like that?”
“I was simply trying to help you, Inspector Kim.”
Wonjoon placed a hand dramatically against his chest.
“I was so startled myself. Look—my hand’s still shaking.”
He raised his hand and exaggeratedly trembled it.
The sight made Yieum want to speak to him even less.
He turned to leave, but Wonjoon called after him.
“Have you thought about my proposal?”
“I refuse.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Yieum turned back sharply.
“I’m serious. So stop contacting me. Stay out of my sight. And if you pull something like today again, next time I really will slap handcuffs on you and throw you in jail.”
His voice hardened further.
“I wanted to seize your dashcam footage today and prove you hit him intentionally. The only reason I held back was because I don’t want to get involved with you any more than I already am.”
A cold glare settled in his eyes.
“So let’s never see each other again. Understood?”
“Fine.”
Wonjoon shrugged easily.
“Let’s do that.”
For a second, Yieum thought he was finally backing off.
Then Wonjoon flicked away his cigarette butt and casually headed back inside the police station.
Yieum immediately frowned.
Something about it felt wrong.
Sure enough, instead of turning toward the restroom nearby, Wonjoon strode straight up the stairs.
Yieum hurried after him and grabbed his arm.
“Where are you going?”
“The restroom.”
“…Ah.”
Embarrassed, Yieum loosened his grip.
Wonjoon grinned and continued upstairs.
Yieum watched him suspiciously—and, exactly as expected, Wonjoon turned right at the top landing instead of heading toward the bathroom.
Straight toward the chief’s office.
Horrified, Yieum lunged after him and grabbed him again.
“What the hell are you doing? Why are you going in there? The restroom’s the other way.”
“Is it?”
Wonjoon tilted his head lazily.
“It smelled like shit over there, so I assumed this was the restroom instead.”
Then he smiled.
“I was thinking of going to meet your chief and making a very big scene. You’ll handle the aftermath for me, right, Inspector Kim?”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“You know exactly what I’m planning to say.”
Yieum was seconds away from exploding.
“Fuck.”
His voice dropped dangerously low.
“Are you seriously threatening a detective inside a police station?”
“What threat?”
Wonjoon looked almost innocent.
“Do you have something to hide?”
At that exact moment, the head of Violent Crimes Unit 3 happened to pass by on his way toward the chief’s office. The man glanced at them curiously.
Yieum clenched his jaw.
He wanted to curse Wonjoon out right there—but he couldn’t.
Because the threat was real.
How can a person be this rotten?
And worse—how pathetic am I that I can’t even confront him openly?
“…Fine.”
The words came out through gritted teeth.
“Let’s leave for now. We’ll talk later.”
“When?”
Yieum exhaled sharply and dragged a rough hand through his hair.
Heat crawled up the back of his neck, and as he rubbed at it irritably, he felt Wonjoon’s gaze settle there openly.
The stare itself was irritating enough to make his temper flare again.
Wonjoon smiled—a sweet, polished smile so fake it made Yieum want to punch him.
“So when?”
He checked his watch casually.
“I’m busy until Friday.”
Faced with the relentless pressure, Yieum finally gave in.
“Saturday.”
Right now, all he wanted was to get this bastard out of the police station as quickly as possible.
“Alright.”
Wonjoon smiled brightly.
“See you then.”
There were few things Yieum despised more than spitting in someone’s face.
And yet for the first time in his life, he genuinely wanted to do exactly that.
Kim Yieum had always considered himself a reasonably decent person.
But Choi Wonjoon possessed a truly unique talent for dragging the devil out of him.
“Why the sudden checkup?”
Yieum mumbled distractedly as he accepted the test results from the doctor.
The doctor was an old high school classmate—and also the very first person who had discovered Yieum’s Omega traits.
The results showed the same thing as always.
Secondary gender: Beta.
Cases like his were rare, but not unheard of. Some people possessed such recessive traits that standard tests failed to detect anything definitive.
Yieum was one of those cases.
And thanks to that, he had spent more than twenty years believing he was an ordinary Beta.
After confirming the results, he quietly let out a breath of relief.
He’d been nervous that his secondary gender might somehow have changed in the meantime. But if the results still appeared this way, then even if Choi Wonjoon tried to make an issue out of it, Yieum had a way to fight back.
“My heat symptoms have gotten worse lately.”
“How much worse?”
“Just being near an Alpha makes me nauseous.”
Yieum frowned slightly.
“The medication suppresses it quickly, but… I’m worried there might come a point where I can’t control it anymore.”
The doctor studied him carefully before speaking.
“At this stage, wouldn’t it be better to tell your family?”
“At least in case something happens.”
“What do you mean by ‘something’?”
“Like you said.”
The doctor leaned back in his chair.
“The symptoms could erupt suddenly.”
“….”
“Pheromones aren’t something you suppress through willpower alone.”
His tone grew more serious.
“Right now it’s just nausea. But if you lose control completely…”
He hesitated briefly.
“You could wake up next to a stranger one day. And accidents happen in situations like that.”
“By accidents…”
Yieum’s expression stiffened.
“You mean pregnancy?”
“Yes.”
A dry laugh escaped him.
Pregnancy? Me?
“As if that’s possible for someone this recessive.”
“Not impossible.”
The doctor shrugged.
“There was a case similar to yours that resulted in pregnancy. I can send you the research data if you want.”
Yieum frowned immediately.
“No thanks.”
He stood from his seat instead.
“Just prescribe more medication.”
The doctor sighed but opened a drawer and handed over the medicine.
Everything—the consultation, the prescription—was officially recorded under the doctor’s own name.
After slipping the medication into his pocket, Yieum pulled cash from his wallet and placed it on the desk.
As he turned to leave, he caught several nurses glancing his way.
They probably found him suspicious. He always came in, chatted privately with the doctor, and left without receiving any visible treatment.
Avoiding their eyes, Yieum hurried outside.
He drove straight toward the National Forensic Service.
Even though the “real culprit” in Yang Taekil’s case had already been caught, an unpleasant feeling still lingered stubbornly in the back of his mind.
If Team Leader Oh found out he was digging around in a closed case again, he’d definitely get an earful for it.
After arriving at the NFS, Yieum stepped into the elevator on his way to see the medical examiner.
Just as the doors began to close, he heard hurried footsteps approaching.
He pressed the open button.
A polished black dress shoe slid neatly through the narrowing gap.
“Thank you.”
The man who stepped inside wore a tailored black suit and stood slightly taller than Yieum.
When the elevator reached the third floor, Yieum headed toward the examiner’s office—but the man from the elevator followed behind him.
“Excuse me…”
The voice sounded oddly cautious.
Yieum turned around.
The man wore a faintly nervous expression.
“You’re Kim Yieum, right?”
Yieum blinked slowly.
Do I know him?
His gaze dropped to the ID card hanging around the man’s neck.
Western District Prosecutors’ Office.
Jeong Daehan.
Yieum looked back up.
The man smiled brightly, deep dimples forming in his cheeks.
Scar.
Dimple.
Scar.
Dimple…?
Ah.
Recognition finally surfaced.
“Jeong Daehan?”