HYDP C18

Chapter 18

“Someday that body’s going to have to take my seed anyway… If there’s no pleasure in holding you, I lose interest. The body has to pull me in first to make me want it.”

“……”

“The chest will grow on its own once you’re pregnant, so leave it.”

Feigning a grotesque kind of tenderness, Seo Kang-jo smoothed Sanhong’s hair. Without chewing properly, he swallowed the sashimi and forced the rising acid back down.

“Come on, have a drink.”

“Yes.”

Better liquor than this. Digging nails into a thigh, a forced smile stayed fixed.

Every time he drank, Seo Kang-jo burned to brag about his tolerance first. Knowing that better than anyone, he kept pandering to him.

Prick his pride, and who knew who’d be the next to take a beating.

“Not holding your liquor today? One glass and you’re tipsy?”

“It’s a bit nauseating.”

“Ha! A baby. A baby.”

Given his age, the word crawled across the skin. To use “baby” for someone only five years younger—that mouth was foul. He downed the glass with reflux pitching up the throat.

“If only you’d stay at my side, I’d have no worries in the world. You could shut that damned pawnshop.”

“I’m fine.”

“Really, just bring your body. Am I asking for something grand?”

So he wanted the body.

Twisting a corner of his mouth, he emptied the glass. Swaying slightly, he pressed a hand to his head. As if waiting for it, instead of going stone-faced, Seo slung a bright smile over him and put an arm around his shoulders.

“See you again.”

“……”

“Yikes… You don’t look so good. Don’t get sick. I’ll be upset.”

Knowing full well he was the cause, he laughed openly and stood. He was nothing more or less than a pervert who smiled to see him in pain.

“Make sure he gets home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Left alone in the room, the residue of him, annoyingly, hadn’t cleared. To steady himself, he went for water, gulping cold mouthfuls fast enough to spill.

The sudden chug made his head ring, but not to blackout.

More worrying was that he hadn’t taken his meds today. Jumping to his feet, he brushed off the underling’s “We’ll take you” the second he stepped outside.

“No need. Don’t bother.”

Out on the street, he ignored them and flagged a taxi.

His stomach heaved; he didn’t even want to speak. Thumping a fist to his chest only made it worse. Soon his head began to pound.

Barely holding on, he reached the pawnshop.

He tossed a fifty-thousand-won note without a word, kicked the door, and strode into the two-story building.

He took the stairs two at a time. The moment he opened the pawnshop door, the vomit surged.

His body lurched. Reeling into the restroom, he braced over the bowl and threw everything up.

“…Ugh…!”

His eyes stung.

It wasn’t tears so much as everything forcing its way back up, pressing even the tear ducts. It wasn’t the liquor—it was the sashimi he’d forced down. Right. Indigestion. Cold sweat broke; hands and feet went clammy.

Turning over that hellish hour did nothing to help; he bent his head lower, but no relief came. He started thinking he’d hole up here all night.

Then—

A hand thumped his back. Startled, he could only turn his head.

His eyes went wide, about to spill.

“……Oh.”

“Guess I should’ve just shot him there on the spot. Sanhong.”

“…Why are you… here…”

“I tailed you.”

“……”

“I’m the one who broke the window.”

“……”

“Should’ve smashed his skull.”

Who—turned out, Cheonguk.

“You can’t eat sashimi, huh. That drooly face was kind of cute.”

“…Move. Seriously…”

“Feels like we need a phase where we get to know each other. You don’t know me yet. I don’t really know you.”

“…And?”

“Let’s get to know each other sucking each other’s cocks.”

“…Don’t talk shit.”

Today was wrecked, honestly wrecked. He tried to remember where in here he’d left a gun.

But in the restroom, there wasn’t even so much as a paring knife—forget a gun. Sudden despair washed in. Next time, at least a knife—he decided, sincerely.

For now… stay calm. Any needless poke would backfire.

He was unguarded. If, right here, Cheonguk truly lunged to kill, there’d be no stopping him.

This was familiar terrain; he took a long breath and decided to handle him like soothing a child.

“Let’s not do this here. Let’s go out—”

“Hey. Is it because I’m a Beta?”

“…That’s not something I care about.”

“Or because I tried to kill you at first? It’s okay. I’m quitting. I filed my resignation.”

“……”

He wasn’t making sense.

Same language, zero comprehension—it was shocking. Anyone could see where the problem lay.

His gut lurched again. He bent in a hurry, and that familiar hand thumped his back. This time it was gentler.

“You should’ve said you can’t eat sashimi.”

“……”

“But, Sanhong—how long are you going to let that guy skate? When you kill him, can I join?”

More than the fact he’d followed him, what startled him now was the casual, unbothered way he patted his back.

He was a pro, clearly.

Just… he looked dim. The problem was not knowing if that was calculated, or genuine.

The guard couldn’t come down. Then his thumb wiped his lips. Vomit-soiled.

He jerked back on reflex, shoving him.

“…That’s filthy—”

“It’s not.”

“……”

“Hold still a second.”

He cupped his nape gently, lifted his face, and actually wiped his lips clean.

“Fuck. Your mouth’s so damn small…”

As if struck by something, he muttered to himself. Then under his breath: “Doesn’t look like it’ll fit…”

He shut his eyes, holding the roil in his gut and the ache in his head. Through the veiled dark, rustle—then those big hands cupped his cheeks.

“Looks like indigestion. I bought medicine earlier.”

“……”

“One pill. If it’s bad, up to three a day. Never take it with milk.”

“……”

“And don’t force yourself next time. That face you make holding it down—kind of a turn-on.”

He glared; he whipped his hands back.

“Kidding. Sorry.”

He passed him a cup of water and a pill from who-knew-where. At a loss for words, he swallowed it—it was the same kind he usually took.

“Do you always take whatever people hand you?”

“No.”

“Guess I’m not ‘people,’ huh? Why take mine? What if it’s an aphrodisiac?”

He knew his body’s habit of indigestion better than anyone, and it was the exact pill he used—so he took it. But saying so wouldn’t get through to this weirdo.

As he moved to stand, he sensed he’d grab him—on reflex, he threw a punch. It landed better than expected.

Thud—!

Cracked on the jaw, he dropped forward.

…Out cold.

So fast even he stood there, blank.

“Hey…”

“……”

“…You really out?”

Tap, tap.

He poked his shoulder, then put a hand under his nose, then lifted a lid to check his pupils.

Yes—out.

A bit flustered, but the quiet helped him snap back. Purging his stomach had eased him a lot.

He stared at the sprawled man for a while, then thought if he left him there, he’d die—so he dragged him to the inner room.

“Huff… haah…”

Even short of breath, somehow no curses came.

He managed to get the much larger man up on his back.

Even with his feet dragging, there was no time to stop. Almost crawling, he made it into the room and dumped him on the floor.

A strong metallic taste pooled at the back of his throat.

Things rarely drained him, but moving one person left him spent; he flopped to the floor, gulping for air.

“Too heavy… like strapping on a millstone…”

His heart pounded, limbs shook. After a long spell blinking at the ceiling, he steadied his breath and pushed upright slowly. He stared at the unconscious man a long beat, then left the room without a word.