Chapter 49

Gi-hyeon, who had almost reflexively turned his head, rigidly locked his gaze forward and kept walking. If he didn’t want to suffer the devastating regret of the man returning from Hell who lost everything because he looked back with only one step left to freedom, he needed an agonizing amount of effort. Today of all days, Gi-hyeon ruthlessly forced his leaden ankles to move. Neither slowing his pace nor quickening it, he walked at the exact same, methodical rhythm.

But tragically, his wrist was snatched almost instantly. Even though the man’s car parked on the shoulder was less than twenty steps away.

Gi-hyeon let out a heavy sigh.

“Let go, then we’ll talk.”

“…”

The bastard didn’t answer. Gi-hyeon violently yanked his wrist away. Surprisingly, Yeon-oh let go without a fight. Wondering why on earth the bastard had shown up here at this hour, Gi-hyeon quickly decided it wasn’t his problem and he had no obligation to know.

However, it seemed the bastard harbored the exact same question.

“…Why are you here, at this hou—.”

“Just state your business.”

Gi-hyeon coldly cut him off. He could physically feel Jo Yeon-oh taking a sharp, jagged breath. The raw, impatient tension plastered across Yeon-oh’s cheeks made his face look gaunt and terrifyingly severe.

Jo Yeon-oh looked intensely anxious. He also looked deeply unsettled. Or perhaps it was a violent mixture of both. While the dark, bruised circles under his eyes couldn’t diminish his devastatingly handsome features, his complexion was undeniably the worst Gi-hyeon had ever seen it.

He had probably suffered severe insomnia. Since Jo Yeon-oh hadn’t been able to visit Gi-hyeon’s apartment yesterday or the day before, it was a guaranteed fact. Jo Yeon-oh’s chronic insomnia was a longstanding, agonizing issue, yet knowing that, Gi-hyeon felt shockingly little pity for him today.

After hesitating for a painfully long time, the bastard finally forced his mouth open.

“Why are you quitting the hospital.”

Gi-hyeon had absolutely no idea how that news had already reached him. Judging by Beom-hee’s reaction earlier, she definitely hadn’t told him. It was genuinely fascinating how fast hospital rumors reached him compared to the Team Leader Lim incident, but Gi-hyeon simply refused to answer.

Furious that he wasn’t getting a response, Jo Yeon-oh took an aggressive step closer to Gi-hyeon.

“So Gi-hyeon, why aren’t you answer—.”

“Right. Thinking about it, I’m genuinely sorry about that.”

“—What?”

At Gi-hyeon’s utterly unexpected apology, Jo Yeon-oh furrowed his brow, staring at him in deep confusion. He looked more utterly bewildered than angry. Gi-hyeon slowly pulled his gaze away from the bastard’s scowling brow.

He had absolutely no desire to look at that face from this close. He had been about to tell him to take his clothes from the apartment since they had run into each other anyway, but he firmly clamped his mouth shut. He didn’t want to say a single word today. At the very least, today, he simply didn’t have the energy to face this man.

However, his apology regarding the hospital was entirely sincere. This was the man who had gone out of his way to establish and manage a massive rehabilitation hospital—something he had never cared about in his life—entirely for Gi-hyeon’s sake. How could he possibly ignore that level of dedication? Gi-hyeon had always been deeply grateful to Jo Yeon-oh.

“I’m sorry for making you go through all the trouble of acquiring and building the hospital when I was just going to quit like this.”

“What the fuck kind of absolute bullshit is that, Gi-hyeon-ah.”

Scowling ferociously, the bastard sneered, one corner of his lip curling up in a vicious smirk. He was clearly violently pissed off.

Gi-hyeon understood. To have the person you practically bent over backward to fake-date—just to somehow salvage a relationship that was only ever platonic—suddenly declare they were severing ties right to your face? And doing it twice in a row? Gi-hyeon entirely understood Yeon-oh’s rage.

“Right now, you are, fuck—. No, whatever. Why the hell did you come here at this hour.”

Gi-hyeon desperately wanted to shoot back, ‘Why the hell did YOU come here,’ but he kept his mouth shut. Because he couldn’t exactly confess he had come to confirm his pregnancy.

Clearly waiting for an answer, the bastard relentlessly scrutinized Gi-hyeon’s face. The heavy, suffocating gaze sticking to his cheeks, his temples, the nape of his neck, and his chest felt incredibly violating. It was an obsessive, violently stubborn stare. It screamed that he would absolutely not back down until he got an answer.

Hesitating on how to construct the lie, Gi-hyeon finally opened his mouth.

“I left something behind before resigning.”

“…What?”

Perhaps the excuse was too incredibly flimsy, because the bastard asked the question while letting out a hollow gasp. That single, breathless syllable sounded chillingly rigid. Gi-hyeon, who had been aggressively avoiding eye contact the entire time, unconsciously snapped his head up. The moment their eyes met, Gi-hyeon’s eyes blew wide in shock. Jo Yeon-oh’s expression was frozen in absolute, horrifying terror.

“…”

His complexion was so deathly, violently pale—as if he had just sustained a massive, psychological shock—that Gi-hyeon reflexively furrowed his brow. Their gazes locked in the empty space between them, but no words followed. Jo Yeon-oh stared at Gi-hyeon with wildly unfamiliar eyes, exactly like a man who had just confronted something completely impossible in a place he never expected. Standing there completely paralyzed, unable to utter a single syllable, was so incredibly unlike the Jo Yeon-oh he knew.

“…”

Their gazes locked once more. Jo Yeon-oh’s face remained a ghastly, bloodless white. It felt as though Gi-hyeon had seen the bastard struck completely speechless more times between yesterday and today than he had in their entire lives combined.

Suddenly, Gi-hyeon wondered if Yeon-oh was physically ill. Concerned by the wildly uncharacteristic behavior of a man who never usually acted like this, Gi-hyeon instinctively took a half-step forward, only to freeze, laughing bitterly at his own hypocrisy for acting concerned right after declaring he was cutting ties. Accompanied by a heavy sigh, Gi-hyeon spoke.

“…I’ll leave first.”

The phone clutched in his hand was lighting up. It was probably a reply from Beom-hee. He wanted to hurry over to her house, explain the catastrophic situation, and ask her to recommend a discreet pheromone internal medicine clinic or an OB/GYN specializing in Omegas.

It was exactly the moment he turned his back.

“Quitting the hospital but you still have lingering attachments? Or what, don’t tell me you came because your ankle hurts. If it hurts, go to a different hospital. I’ll introduce you to one.”

Before his brain could even fully process the venomous words, Gi-hyeon fiercely furrowed his brow. It was an entirely visceral reaction. A sudden, terrifying instinct warned him that he absolutely should not listen to whatever Jo Yeon-oh was about to say. His brain was screaming at him to just keep walking and escape this place immediately.

But Jo Yeon-oh’s razor-sharp tongue was infinitely faster than Gi-hyeon’s ruined ankle.

“Ah, was it too uncomfortable to come when people were around, so you had to sneak in and out in the dead of night like a fucking rat?”

“…What?”

He heard the words perfectly clearly, but he couldn’t help asking for clarification. Stopping dead in his tracks, Gi-hyeon turned back and asked.

“What the hell are you saying right—”

“Isn’t it true? Do you think I dug money out of the fucking ground to run a charity? I built an entire fucking hospital just to feed you, and you think you can just throw a resignation letter at my face and walk out?”

Only then did he finally understand the accusation. Jo Yeon-oh, who possessed an incredibly ruthless ambition when it came to business, fundamentally despised people who half-assed their work. He was applying that exact standard right now. Mixing a heavy sigh into his response, Gi-hyeon replied.

“Right, I already told you I was sorry about that earlier…”

“No, you’re wrong, Gi-hyeon-ah.”

The bastard smirked a chilling smile and reached into his coat pocket. Pulling out what looked like a pack of cigarettes, he retrieved one, clamped it between his lips, and sparked a Zippo lighter. The flare illuminated exactly half of his face, leaving the rest submerged in pitch-black shadow. Wondering what kind of psychotic game he was playing, absolute fury began boiling in Gi-hyeon’s blood.

“I’m telling you not to make me think about the sunk cost. Do you really not understand what I’m saying?”

“…What sunk cost.”

“The cost of my agonizing effort, building an entire hospital just to cater to a bastard who tossed away basic professional courtesy by refusing to work during his resignation notice period.”

It was a technically factual statement. But to Gi-hyeon, it felt like a profoundly meaningless argument over who had truly abandoned who first.

Jo Yeon-oh, who had demanded a breakup under the delusion that he had slept with another Omega. So Gi-hyeon, who had hidden the fact that he was that Omega and declared he never wanted to see Yeon-oh’s face again. Gi-hyeon genuinely believed the only things left between them were the rotting, toxic dregs of their resentment, yet Jo Yeon-oh was ironically preaching about professional courtesy.

Normally, Gi-hyeon would have simply agreed that Jo Yeon-oh was right. Submitting a resignation letter and immediately failing to show up for the notice period was undeniably his fault. That was an entirely separate issue from their breakup.

But So Gi-hyeon had heard entirely too many devastating things today. Of course, all of it was ultimately the result of So Gi-hyeon’s own decisions and responsibilities. Sleeping with Jo Yeon-oh, getting pregnant—all of it was the direct consequence of his own actions.

However, the fact that So Gi-hyeon had mutated into an Omega was entirely, undeniably Jo Yeon-oh’s fault. Reaching that thought, he had absolutely nothing left to say. Gi-hyeon simply turned his body and walked away.

“So Gi-hyeon.”

He heard the bastard viciously grinding his name out from behind him, but this time, he absolutely refused to stop. Perhaps anxious that the person who said he would only be a minute wasn’t returning, the tennis player had stepped out of the car and was watching the confrontation between Gi-hyeon and Jo Yeon-oh.

Swallowing a heavy sigh, Gi-hyeon marched toward the car. His ankle felt as stiff as a block of wood, but deciding that limping in front of others was infinitely better than slowing his pace and letting Yeon-oh catch him, he walked as fast as he could.

“I’m not finished talking to you, Gi-hyeon-ah.”

Once again, his wrist was snatched. Unable to endure it a second longer, Gi-hyeon violently spun around and shoved Jo Yeon-oh’s chest with all his might.

“Don’t touch me, you fucking bastard.”

“What?”

“I said don’t fucking touch me. Do you have any idea how absolutely fucked up I felt every single time you touched me?”

Jo Yeon-oh completely froze in place, staring down at Gi-hyeon in shock. He wore a profoundly blank expression. Regardless of his reaction, Gi-hyeon finally vomited out the resentment he had suppressed for seven years. They were toxic, rotting words that had festered inside him for so long they reeked.

“Dating me like it was some childish prank, treating me like a dog in heat and telling me to go fuck an Omega if I was sexually frustrated, do you not remember any of that? To you, is that what fucking friendship looks like?”

“…Watch your mouth.”

Gi-hyeon didn’t bother suppressing the incredulous, explosive laugh that tore from his throat.

“Do I really have to watch my fucking mouth at a time like this? Jo Yeon-oh, tell me the absolute truth. You playing along, pretending to date me for seven years—you only did that to completely fuck me over, didn’t you?”

“So Gi-hyeon—.”

With a face entirely drained of blood, the bastard desperately reached out to grab his wrist again. Irritated, Gi-hyeon violently swatted the hand away and continued.

“You stayed by my side just to get revenge on me.”

“…What?”

“You stuck around… you stayed right by my side just to punish me for shattering that precious fucking friendship you cherished so much.”

The bastard instantly froze like a statue. It was impossible to tell whether the shock came from having his darkest intentions dragged into the light by another person’s mouth, or if Gi-hyeon’s words had simply lacerated him to the core. But Gi-hyeon no longer had any desire to know. Jo Yeon-oh’s circumstances meant absolutely nothing to him anymore.

—It was likely a sustained, long-term exposure. Whether consciously or subconsciously, the intense, overwhelming desire to make the partner their Omega is precisely what triggers the mutation in a Beta. It is exceptionally rare. Most Alphas simply lack the biological power required, and even if they possess it, almost none have the sheer, obsessive willpower to actually force the change.

The ER doctor’s words echoed relentlessly in Gi-hyeon’s mind. Those words meant that throughout their entire relationship, Jo Yeon-oh had constantly, obsessively wished for Gi-hyeon to become an Omega. Staring at the paralyzed Jo Yeon-oh, who could do nothing but stare blankly back, Gi-hyeon spat his final words like venom.

“You were so furious, so deeply resentful that I dared to ruin your perfect little friendship, that you trapped me in this pathetic, childish game of house just to torture me. Thinking to yourself, ‘How does it feel? This romance you wanted is nothing special, is it? It was much better when we were just friends,’ while completely suffocating me.”

“…”

Gi-hyeon tore his gaze away from Jo Yeon-oh. He genuinely hadn’t wanted to go this far, but something deep inside him had violently ruptured, and if he didn’t scream these words, he felt like he would genuinely die.

“You were fucking awful even when we were friends.”

With that, he turned his back. Casually ignoring the tennis player—who had been watching them before violently flinching and whipping his head away in awkward panic—Gi-hyeon marched straight to the driver’s side door.

The moment the athlete climbed into the passenger seat, Gi-hyeon shoved the gearshift and slammed the accelerator. Through the rearview mirror, he could see Jo Yeon-oh standing perfectly still, staring blankly in their direction.

Gi-hyeon pulled his eyes away, fixing his gaze firmly on the road ahead. There was absolutely nothing left behind at that hospital for him to retrieve.

***