HYDP C1

 Jingle… jingle….

From the stabbed flank, a numb ache spread as sensation went dull. Strength was ebbing so quickly that without pulling himself together, it felt like death might come at any moment.

Catching his breath for a moment, Cheonguk turned his head toward the bell ringing through the pawnshop. He had definitely heard it, but something was off.

A hallucination? It wasn’t a sound coming from somewhere outside; it was like it was tolling from deep inside his skull.

The next instant, what entered his field of vision was Sanhong, leaning against the wall and panting for breath.

A forehead revealed beneath swept-up bangs, well-ordered features, and lips flushed red….

The world stopped. Had the world always been this beautiful? Could something with colors like this even exist in this sewage-like reality?

Only then did Cheonguk understand everything.

Why he had sprinted so single-mindedly toward this pawnshop, why he had brushed off even the order to kill as if it were nothing. He understood it all, at last.

“You were trying to tie us together….”

What burst out of him wasn’t a scoff but real laughter.

Madness was mixed in, and rapture followed close behind. Then suddenly, a warning flashed through his mind.

“If you hesitate, you die. The moment you see him, kill him. Got it?”

“Fuck… how the hell do I kill this….”

Cheonguk picked up the revolver that had fallen to the floor. Then he leveled the muzzle not at Sanhong, but at his own thigh.

Bang!

There was no hesitation. With an ear-splitting gunshot and the pain like a red-hot spit driving through flesh, Cheonguk was certain. He let out a hollow laugh at the agony he’d never experienced in his life.

“This isn’t a dream.”

This was already the love style of a Cheonguk who had gone mad.

“……”

Across from him, Sanhong widened his eyes and murmured under his breath.

“…Is he insane.”

More than anything, Sanhong didn’t want a corpse turning up here. However things had spiraled to this point, it was time to slowly retrace the steps.

If one stepped into the building with the sign “Horangyong-dong Pawnshop,” the first thing that caught the eye was a simple entrance anyone could come and go through. Passing that door and going a little farther in, the interior of the pawnshop—about thirty pyeong—came into view.

For an old building, the inside was surprisingly neat and orderly.

In the glass display cases, relatively well-kept electronics and luxury items were lined up tidily, and the floor, polished to a shine with not a speck of dust, faithfully reflected the owner’s character.

With a space arranged without frills and not a single unnecessary object, the pawnshop gave off an impression that was somehow cold and at the same time prim.

On the very back wall of the shop, there was a door only the initiated would use, one ordinary customers would hardly notice. Opening that door revealed a small, quiet room.

That was the sanctuary of this pawnshop’s owner, “Yeon Sanhong.”

From the outside it looked like a small storage room, but stepping in, one found neutral-toned furniture neatly placed on a warm, yellow heated floor. The space, permeated with traces of Sanhong’s daily life, carried a quiet, orderly atmosphere. It was a space belonging to Sanhong alone, but on very special days, he would make an exception and open it to someone.

Sanhong opened the inner door of the pawnshop and walked out slowly.

Each time the toes of his slippered feet dragged over the threshold, he took a breath as he walked. His whole body was exhausted, his eyes were bleary, and cool sweat clung damp at the nape of his neck.

Even with his mind scattered and his energy spent, the signal that he had to eat now was carved into his body like a habit.

On the dining table sat a pre-bought lunch box, meekly waiting. It was ready to eat as soon as the wrapping was peeled back.

Without a word, Sanhong sank heavily into the sofa. Slumped almost to collapse, he slowly lifted the lid of the lunch box.

The beads of water gathered inside and the faint steam rising told him the lunch was still lukewarm.

Rice, rolled omelet, and grilled pork belly were laid out neatly.

At the familiar combination, his stomach reacted reflexively ahead of thought. Sanhong picked up his spoon and began quietly shoveling rice into his mouth. Even when he tried to eat slowly, his pace naturally picked up. Normally he didn’t have much of an appetite, but right after a heat cycle, he ate like someone who hadn’t eaten in days. It was closer to refueling for survival than recovery.

Silently chewing, swallowing, and eating again. With his mouth stuffed full of rice, there came a moment he paused, letting his head drop and exhaling like a sigh.

The sense that the job was finished always settled in only with this one meal.

Just then, there was movement from the back room.

As the door creaked open, the room was revealed, its humid heat not yet dispersed. Through the cracked opening, a heavy chestnut-blossom scent mixed with a thick, sour odor crept out, and clothes tossed off any which way lay crumpled and tangled on the floor. The air inside was still sticky, and there was no need to explain what had been happening there until just a moment ago.

All four of them were Betas. They glanced at Sanhong and then averted their eyes. Scratching at a neck without a word, one of them tossed out a remark.

“You’ve still got the strength to eat?”

Without replying, Sanhong only tilted his head slightly. Then he shoved another spoonful into his mouth.

This time, a man who was straightening his disheveled jacket and hitching up his pants started to speak, pausing in the middle of putting on his shoes.

“Can you even get the rice down? I feel like puking from having my energy sucked dry….”

“My vital energy’s depleted.”

“…You’re a real monster.”

Again, without much reaction, Sanhong chewed the soy-braised quail eggs in his mouth.

All of them were conscious of Sanhong, but not one tried to properly make conversation. Nor did Sanhong cast them a glance.

Until he emptied the lunch box and set his spoon down. Not once did his eyes turn toward them.

A few years ago, Sanhong had suddenly appeared in Horangyong-dong as an outsider.

The reason he deliberately settled in this dangerous place was obvious.

Having lived only in brutal environments in the past, due to a certain incident, he quit the job of contract killing. While failing to adapt to the suddenly changed environment, he discovered “Horangyong-dong,” then the roughest neighborhood in Seoul.

The reason he chose this place was simple.

Horangyong-dong was a neighborhood where all kinds of criminals ran rampant. Judging it an appropriate space where he could blow off steam anytime, he decided to settle here.

The criminals saw him as a prime piece of prey, but in truth, they weren’t up to the task.

Sanhong had more grit than expected and, as a matter of course, he fought well. As a lesson on the very first day he set foot in this neighborhood, he finished his initiation by jamming chopsticks into the eyes of the owner of “Gyerang Ban-jeom,” who had pinned him to the floor and yanked his pants down to rape him, delivering his own kind of warning.

The sight left the local scum slack-jawed.

“Aaagh!! M-my eyes…! Aaaagh!”

With long, lanky limbs, when the “Gyerang Ban-jeom” owner swung a fist, Sanhong slipped aside lightly and knocked him out. That was the first image of Sanhong branded into the minds of the Horangyong-dong riffraff.

In the middle of sex, an old memory suddenly surfaced, and with a “Right, that’s how it was,” he let out a wry chuckle. That was when—

Rrrrrip— clack!

Someone roughly flung the pawnshop’s entrance door wide open.

“What the hell? Why are you bastards doing this here first thing in the morning…. Ah, for fuck’s sake. At it again, huh.”

“What the hell. Old man. Won’t you just get lost?”

“Why should I get lost when I came to pawn something!”

Kim, the owner of “Cheongsam Super(market),” who had lost his left ring and middle fingers to gambling, was very angry.

The man muttered, saying he had come here on a big decision, sneaking away from his wife, chanting the words like a spell. Then, when his eyes met Sanhong’s—who was watching him with a face gone languid—he clamped shut the mouth that had been hurling crude jibes in panic.

Even while eating, recognizing Mr. Kim, Sanhong gave a friendly wave. Chewing with food in his mouth, he looked almost disarmingly innocent at a glance, but it was also a cipher meaning: please wait just a moment.

Understanding the signal, Mr. Kim gave a needless little cough and put his hands behind his back. Then, perhaps his old-man instincts rekindled, he tossed a comment at the guys in front of Sanhong.

“Hey now. What are you Beta punks doing holed up here day in, day out? You’ll wear out all of Sanhong’s holes, wear them right out!”

“Even if they’re worn and swollen, the tight feel’s the same, so don’t worry yourself.”

“Don’t you have jobs? Huh? And when are you going to be filial to your parents!”

“Even the moment you kick the bucket, we’ll be being filial, so stop worrying already.”

“You damn persistent brats…. Like rutting male animals, the lot of you!”

Bang—!

As if he couldn’t stand the sight any longer, Mr. Kim slammed the door shut. At that, seeing his same-old temper, Sanhong couldn’t help but chuckle.

No sooner had the door closed than the guys were busy cursing out Mr. Kim. In the process, Sanhong ended up hearing them badmouth him too.

“Since when has he ever looked out for Sanhong….”

“Right? If anything, he’s worse than us. That old guy’s no less.”

“Hey. Apparently that old guy used to be an Alpha. Now that he’s aged out, his sexual function’s shot, so he can’t do anything. I heard he can’t even get it up.”

“Huh? That old man was an Alpha? Maybe he was an Alpha who got some procedure…. He sure as hell doesn’t look like it.”

“Age is the issue. What sin is the trait to blame.”

Footnotes:

1. Heat cycle: In Omegaverse, Omegas periodically experience “heat,” a hormonal cycle marked by heightened libido and pheromone output; recovery often involves significant caloric intake, hence the near-compulsive refueling after “heat.”

2. Beta/Alpha/Omega dynamics: Betas are generally considered neutral with minimal pheromone effects; Alphas are typically dominant with strong pheromonal influence; Omegas can enter heat and are often targeted or paired based on these instincts. References to “traits” here indicate whether someone is Alpha, Beta, or Omega.

3. Chestnut-blossom scent: A euphemistic descriptor often used in Korean to allude to the smell associated with semen; here it signals recent sexual activity without explicit description.

4. “Vital energy” (gi/qi): A cultural term referring to life force; “my vital energy is depleted” implies being drained/exhausted after sex, and is also used jokingly as sexual innuendo.

5. Pyeong: A Korean unit of area; 1 pyeong ≈ 3.3 square meters. “About thirty pyeong” is roughly 99 square meters (~1,065 square feet).

6. “Gyerang Ban-jeom”: A local Chinese-style eatery name; “ban-jeom” refers to a Korean-Chinese restaurant. The name is preserved as a proper noun.

7. “Filial piety” jab: The old man’s scolding uses a culturally loaded concept of being dutiful to parents; the retort twists it into a crude, comedic line to keep banter tone.

8. “Procedure” for Alpha: A joke implying medical intervention (e.g., castration, hormonal procedure) that might affect sexual function; not a standard Omegaverse element, but used here as crude rumor.