Chapter 58

“Let’s see here, where are the nails…”

Unaware that the final lilt of his sentence perfectly mimicked a line from a song, Gi-hyeon was deeply engrossed in his search. He wanted to hang a picture frame in the nursery. He hadn’t decided what to put in it yet, but his plan was to hammer the nail in first and then slowly shop for the perfect piece.

While rummaging through the entryway shoe cabinet for the nails, he suddenly remembered he had completely forgotten to take out the trash. A massive pile of recyclables had been aggressively accumulating, and in his rush to clear the clutter, he had dumped them by the door and entirely forgotten about them.

This time, he completely forgot about finding the nails and simply grabbed the recycling bin to head outside. The weather had warmed to the point where wearing short sleeves felt entirely natural. Humming an unrecognizable tune, Gi-hyeon rode the elevator down to the first floor and was making his way toward the communal recycling area when he bumped into the security guard.

“Oh, young man. Heading out to take the trash?”

“Yes, sir. Working late today, I see.”

“Ah, just planting some stakes for the cherry tomatoes in the community garden. You should grab some later. The neighborhood association grows them for everyone.”

“Thank you.”

He hadn’t lived here long, but he was genuinely touched that the guard already recognized him. Offering a faint smile, Gi-hyeon bowed respectfully and wished him a good evening. Just as he turned to resume his path toward the recycling bins, a painfully familiar silhouette caught the edge of his vision.

No fucking way, Gi-hyeon thought, slowly turning his head in pure disbelief.

“What are you looking at?”

“…”

The sheer audacity of the situation robbed Gi-hyeon of his ability to speak. He had absolutely no idea when the bastard had arrived, but Jo Yeon-oh was standing right there. And to make matters infinitely worse, the man was glaring at Gi-hyeon’s bewildered expression and aggressively demanding to know what he was looking at. Gi-hyeon’s lips parted slightly as he threw a sideways glance at the sleek sedan parked next to the bastard.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Digging his pinky into his ear canal with extreme apathy, Yeon-oh offered a profoundly disinterested reply.

“What, are you the only one allowed to live here? The hazing from the locals is pretty intense for my first day.”

…He’s really just throwing money around like this, huh. 

The blatant implication that he had actually moved into the villa complex turned Gi-hyeon’s expression violently cold. Ignoring his demand to never see him again was one thing, but this was absolute lunacy. If he was going to pull shit like this, Gi-hyeon couldn’t even begin to fathom why he had initiated the breakup in the first place.

What Gi-hyeon felt right now was a pure, unadulterated fury toward someone who completely refused to listen.

“Stop spouting bullshit and get the hell out of here. Have you completely forgotten every single thing you said?”

“I remember perfectly well. What about it?”

Yeon-oh merely shrugged. He had seemingly discarded his suit jacket somewhere, wearing only the tailored vest with his shirt sleeves aggressively rolled up past the elbows. With his tie missing and three buttons popped open, the violently disheveled look was completely out of character for a man who normally obsessed over his immaculate appearance.

Not that Gi-hyeon gave a single flying fuck about his outfit. Dropping the heavy recycling bin entirely, ignoring the plastic bottles scattering wildly across the pavement, Gi-hyeon lunged at Jo Yeon-oh and viciously kicked him square in the shin.

“Aaagh—!”

“Ugh…”

The agony wasn’t entirely one-sided. Gi-hyeon, who had charged forward in nothing but barefoot sandals, had violently smashed his big toe into Jo Yeon-oh’s rock-solid shin bone.

A bizarre, pathetic spectacle unfolded in the villa parking lot: two massive men doubled over, hissing and panting as they aggressively massaged their respective shin and toe.

Glaring down at Gi-hyeon, who was hopping on one foot like he was in a playground chicken fight while aggressively rubbing his big toe, Yeon-oh snapped.

“Are you a fucking psychopath? You have a shattered ankle, and you’re still kicking people?!”

“You’re the fucking psychopath here, you crazy bastard. Why do you keep hovering around me? I told you I never wanted to see your fucking face again.”

Scowling fiercely at him, Yeon-oh’s lips curled into a sinister smirk as he let out a sharp, mocking scoff.

“And what about you, fucker?”

The bastard’s eyes were violently blazing, roaring like an untamed inferno. He looked as though he was a millisecond away from vomiting up a massive, molten core of pure rage. Gi-hyeon couldn’t even begin to comprehend why Jo Yeon-oh was glaring at him with such intense hatred.

But Yeon-oh clearly had a lot more to say. Taking an aggressive, massive stride forward, he viciously punted an empty plastic bottle that had rolled near Gi-hyeon’s feet. The hollow plastic flew violently through the air, violently smacking against the concrete curb with a loud clack. Neither of them spared the pathetic bottle a single glance.

Gi-hyeon merely stared blankly at Jo Yeon-oh’s broad chest, which was heaving violently as the man aggressively closed the distance until they were practically pressed together.

“You must love how fucking easy everything is for you, Gi-hyeon-ah.”

“…What?”

He honestly wondered what fresh bullshit the man was going to spew, but it was just more of this garbage. Everything is easy. Having lived an agonizingly difficult life, that was the absolute last thing So Gi-hyeon ever wanted to hear, especially from Jo Yeon-oh.

Yet, with his brow furrowed in sheer irritation, Gi-hyeon forced himself to endure the bastard’s words. He had a morbid curiosity about the man’s underlying motives for stalking him all the way out here. That was precisely why he had kicked him. He figured he would violently vent his boiling rage by physically assaulting the man, and then hear whatever psychotic reasoning he had to offer.

But to claim Gi-hyeon had it easy? Hearing that from the very bastard who had made his life a living, agonizing hell was absolutely unbearable.

“You’ve spent your entire life doing nothing but plotting your pathetic little escapes. Am I wrong?”

He wondered what the hell the man was talking about, but it was just the same exhausted narrative. Gi-hyeon was absolutely sick of it. A voice thick with pure irritation tore from his throat.

“Hey, stop your fucking whining. Do you honestly think you’re the only one who suffered? You think you’re the only one who endured absolute hell? You didn’t even give a single flying fuck as I withered away to nothing right next to you, you selfish prick.”

At that, Yeon-oh let out a sharp laugh. He laughed so violently and mockingly that the small beauty mark resting on the bridge of his nose actually crinkled. “Exactly. And who forced you to do that?”

“…What the fuck are you—”

“I told you this was my revenge against you. I thought about it, and honestly? I don’t think I was wrong. So why the hell did you confess to me, Gi-hyeon-ah? Why the hell did you have to love me?”

Gi-hyeon completely lost his ability to speak, staring blankly at Jo Yeon-oh. Because the bastard had closed the distance so aggressively that their chests were practically brushing, Gi-hyeon was forced to tilt his head up to meet his gaze. He had no idea what kind of pathetic expression he was wearing, but reflected in Yeon-oh’s dark pupils—illuminated by the glaring headlights of a car pulling into the lot—was his own completely deadpan face.

“Did I ever ask you for any of that?”

“…”

“I didn’t, So Gi-hyeon.”

A suffocating, ringing silence filled Gi-hyeon’s ears. Staring down at him, Yeon-oh delivered his final, ruthless blow, his tone practically mocking Gi-hyeon for playing the victim.

“So now it’s your turn. See how long you can endure having something violently forced upon you that you never once fucking asked for.”

“…”

“Only then will we finally be even.”

With that final declaration, Yeon-oh spun on his heel and stalked toward the building adjacent to Gi-hyeon’s. Staring blankly at his retreating back, Gi-hyeon slowly dropped his gaze to the pathetic garbage scattered violently around his feet.

“Hah…”

A hollow laugh escaped him. He finally realized that the agonizing, suffocating emotions he had harbored for over a decade were completely indistinguishable from the pathetic trash rolling around his ankles.

For a long time, Gi-hyeon simply stood frozen in the parking lot before slowly bending down to meticulously collect the scattered recyclables. Only then did he remember the nail he had been frantically searching for to hang the picture frame in the nursery. I should have just kept looking for the damn nail. A brief, sharp pang of regret washed over him.

But that was it; no further sighs or curses escaped his lips. Having experienced far too many things in life completely outside his control, he realized there was a strict limit to how many times a person could actually get angry about it.

He couldn’t even begin to fathom the psychotic logic driving the man to move into a remote villa miles away from his corporate headquarters. But realizing the sanctuary he had desperately fled to had been so effortlessly compromised left Gi-hyeon drowning in a profound, suffocating sense of helplessness. Knowing that lingering on such a toxic emotion was dangerous, he violently forced himself to shake it off. There was absolutely nothing he could do right this second, so he resolved to ignore the sheer exhaustion of today and aggressively brainstorm a solution tomorrow.

After finally dealing with the trash, he returned home, scrubbed himself clean, and collapsed straight into bed. He figured he could worry about hammering the nail after he actually bought a frame.

By the time morning broke, Gi-hyeon’s turbulent emotions had settled into a cold, pragmatic calm. Analyzing the situation, he reasoned that Jo Yeon-oh was a staggeringly busy chaebol executive, while he was currently unemployed. If he simply slept in, lounged around the house all day, and only ventured out for brief errands in the mid-afternoon, the chances of physically crossing paths with the bastard were practically zero.

Deeming this a highly sound strategy, Gi-hyeon immediately threw himself back onto the mattress and fell asleep. Ever since the pregnancy took hold, a bone-deep, relentless exhaustion had become his constant companion, making it incredibly easy to drift off.

By the time he finally dragged himself awake after a massive, uninterrupted sleep, it was already well past noon. Caught in the awkward limbo of mid-afternoon, he briefly debated going out for lunch before reminding himself to play it safe. Rummaging through the refrigerator for something quick, he suddenly jerked his head back from the crisper drawer as if he had been struck by lightning. An intense, violent craving for cold buckwheat noodles—a dish he had never once actively desired in his entire life—had completely consumed him.

Remembering a tonkatsu restaurant nearby, he decided a quick meal of pork cutlet and cold soba wouldn’t hurt. Pausing only to brush his teeth and wash his face, he grabbed his credit card and headed out.

As he walked down the street, a sudden wave of sheer embarrassment hit him regarding his aggressively casual attire. Catching his reflection in a storefront, he couldn’t help but laugh at his own pathetic appearance—striding awkwardly in baggy athletic shorts and an oversized, branded t-shirt.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t shaved in days. He wondered if his bizarrely smooth complexion was a direct side effect of his sudden Omega mutation. He had always been naturally pale with decent skin, but it had merely been “better than the average guy,” not remarkably soft. Lately, however, he found himself genuinely shocked every time he washed his face.

The cascading, bizarre changes hijacking his body were utterly absurd. Reminding himself that the mutation also allegedly caused significant muscle loss, he firmly resolved to aggressively ramp up his strength training while stuffing his face with tonkatsu and soba.

Because the portions were surprisingly massive, he figured a slow, aimless walk around the neighborhood wouldn’t hurt, so he embarked on a leisurely stroll in his pathetic sandals. Turning a random corner, he practically stumbled into a vibrant fruit stand.

“Welcome in—!”

The employee, who looked barely in his early twenties, greeted him with an obnoxiously slick drawl. It sounded closer to “Welcooome eeen.” As a former healthcare professional, Gi-hyeon generally despised being on the receiving end of aggressive customer service, but he offered a polite, incredibly faint smile and began inspecting the produce.

Despite the heat barely setting in, the stalls were already aggressively overflowing with early summer fruits. The employee, casually biting into an apricot, stepped out to offer his aggressively enthusiastic recommendations.

“What are you looking for, boss? These ‘mystery peaches’ are flying off the shelves right now.”

“I really don’t like hard peaches…”

“Ah, then how about these? Honestly, though, the flavor isn’t completely there yet. If you want the really soft, juicy ones, you’ll have to wait until July or August.”

Gi-hyeon was mildly surprised to find the employee towering over him when he stepped closer, and undeniably handsome to boot. Intricate tattoos snaked aggressively down his thick forearms, completely exposed by his short sleeves. Gi-hyeon randomly recalled the nurses at the hospital endlessly complaining about how violently difficult it was to find a vein on heavily tattooed arms.

“Are you only interested in peaches, boss? What about tropical stuff? We’ve got mangosteens and apple mangoes, too.”

Knowing that uttering exactly two more sentences would completely bankrupt his daily reserve of social energy, Gi-hyeon offered a vague shake of his head and bluntly asked for plums. The employee looked deeply, tragically disappointed.

“Ploooums? Ah, man, what a tragedy. We literally have everything under the sun, but that’s the one thing we’re completely sold out of.”

Normally, hearing they were sold out would be his immediate cue to turn around and leave, but his feet refused to move. Catching Gi-hyeon’s agonizing hesitation, the employee raised a single eyebrow.

“Damn, boss, you must really, really want a plum, huh? You want to swing by again tomorrow? Just take some apricots for today.”

It was a smooth, aggressive upsell, but Gi-hyeon desperately wanted a plum. It felt as though a parasitic entity had hijacked his brain, violently demanding the tart fruit. Normally, Jo Yeon-oh had to practically force-feed him fruit, and even then he would only manage a single bite before giving up. But today, just the mere thought of a plum had his mouth watering uncontrollably. Ultimately shaking his head and promising to return, he was just about to walk away when he froze.

A staggeringly expensive, sleek sedan was parked directly in front of the fruit stand. With both windows completely rolled down, Jo Yeon-oh was aggressively leaning his elbow on the window frame. He stared at Gi-hyeon and asked in a violently apathetic tone.

“Since when do you eat fruit?”

“…”

Gi-hyeon completely ignored him and kept walking. Throwing a quick glance at his watch, he noted it wasn’t even 6 PM yet. He couldn’t even begin to fathom why the workaholic bastard was off the clock so early just to loiter around him.

The sedan began creeping along the street, its hazard lights aggressively flashing as it slowly stalked Gi-hyeon. Because Yeon-oh was crawling down a two-lane road, the cars trapped behind him began violently honking their horns. Yeon-oh didn’t even flinch; he simply stuck his arm out the window and lazily waved them forward, aggressively signaling them to pass. The enraged drivers rolled down their windows and began screaming curses as they sped by.

“You think you own the fucking road just because you drive a nice car?! Fuck you, I’m in a goddamn hurry! How long are you going to block the lane, you crazy bastard?!”

Screaming their final insults, they aggressively overtook Yeon-oh’s creeping sedan. What the hell is his problem now? Thoroughly exhausted by the man’s psychotic behavior, Gi-hyeon violently swallowed a sigh and tried to maintain his pace. Yeon-oh casually tossed out a question.

“Want a ride?”

“…”

Gi-hyeon offered absolutely no response. Staring blankly at Gi-hyeon’s retreating figure, Yeon-oh aggressively shifted gears.

“Fine, then.”

With that, the sedan roared to life and violently sped off.

Only then did Gi-hyeon finally release the heavy, agonizing sigh he had been holding in. The scorching sun beating down directly onto the crown of his head felt violently, oppressively hot.

***