NLFSD Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Boiling fever consumed his body, and Lee Jiwoon felt utterly wretched. Even so, as a corporate employee there was still work to be done; with dogged effort he forced himself through the morning. He sent emails to clients, held a video call with a home‑shopping partner, and finished drafting a report for approval.

“Team Leader. I just submitted an electronic report for approval. Please confirm.”

“Ah, okay. Got it.”

Song Team Leader waved his hand lazily in assent.

“But, Assistant Jiwoon.”

“Yes, Team Leader?”

“If you don’t have plans today, why don’t we have lunch together?”

“…Lunch, sir?”

“Yes. I’m trying to have one‑on‑one lunches with each of the team members to build rapport. How about it?”

My condition’s a wreck… I should be collapsed in the lounge recliner, not out at lunch with the boss.

Jiwoon wanted to protest, but as a junior he didn’t dare.

“Yes, understood.”

“There’s a shop out front famous for braised cutlassfish. Let’s go there.”

“Ah… yes.”

He didn’t like cutlassfish stew, but when the boss said eat, refusal wasn’t an option. The corporate environment here was subtly strict in hierarchy and bureaucratic.

“Shall we head out a little early then?”

“Yes, sir.”

Though it was only 11:40, Jiwoon rose at his “let’s go.” But his knees suddenly buckled.

“Ah—”

“Jiwoon! What’s wrong?”

Assistant Manager Min leapt up in shock.

“No, it’s nothing, just a little dizzy…”

“Is it because of the cold?”

“What, are you sick?”

Song Team Leader clicked his tongue, studying him.

“Yes… to be honest, I’ve been feeling chills.”

“Come on, then you should’ve said so. Lunch isn’t important now.”

“I think it’s just a cold… Sir, I’m really sorry, but may I file for a half‑day?”

With his pale face, Jiwoon asked, and Song nodded.

“Of course. No point sitting here sick. Submit the form and go.”

“Thank you.”

Shivering, Jiwoon shrugged on his coat and typed up the request. Song’s gaze caught on the coat.

Hm, that coat… isn’t that from that luxury brand? What gloss. And the shirt under it too — all designer labels. He said he’s single, no lover, but he’s decked in clothes no junior’s salary could afford… Must come from a rich family.

Scanning him up and down, Song thought he looked refined, like some wealthy Omega heir. And his face… exactly my style. Maybe I could seduce him?

Song had a history of workplace romances, targeting attractive Omegas from affluent homes. With his Beta designation and modest background, he carried inferiority complexes — and seduction of naïve, wealthy juniors soothed his ego.

Snare a good Omega here, turn my fortunes around. Can’t be a salaryman forever.

Unaware of his boss’s predatory scheming, Jiwoon struggled to finalize paperwork.

“Please approve.”

“Go, quickly now!”

Feigning warmth, Song waved him off with a smile.

“Be sure to see a doctor and rest!”

“Yes. I’ll head out.”

On his way home Jiwoon thought about stopping by a clinic, but his timing was unlucky — he arrived exactly during hospital lunchtime closure. Waiting over an hour was beyond his drained strength, so he decided to just go home and collapse.

“Ah… I’m dying.”

On the way, his fever worsened. By the time he fumbled at his front door, he could barely stand.

After stripping off coat and clothes, he gulped water, thirsty from the heat.

“So cold…”

Though burning up, his body shook uncontrollably. Better soak in hot bathwater.

He ran the tub, water almost scalding, and sank in. The warmth brought a brief haze of drowsy weakness.

“Haa…”

But his vision swam and darkened, chills gripping him despite the hot bath.

I should’ve forced myself to the hospital… but I’m too weak to go out now. Can barely hold my body together…

His thoughts wandered. I want Taecheon.

He hadn’t seen him that morning; they hadn’t spoken. Avoiding him so he wouldn’t worry had backfired.

If only I recover before he comes home. At least enough to hide it.

But then his body suddenly shifted violently. Unlike the frozen chills earlier, heat surged up from deep in the gut.

“…What?”

The furnace inside him burned uncontrollably hot. This was beyond simple fever. His abdomen roiled with fire, frightening him.

“Wh‑what’s happening to me?”

No choice. I need to call Taecheon.

He struggled to rise from the tub — but felt liquid drip not water, but slick, translucent fluid between his thighs. Fever‑dazed, he barely noticed, staggering to throw on a robe and stumble out.

“Haa… haa…”

His breath came ragged now. Fingertips and lips tinged pink; a sweet sage fragrance rose faintly from his wrists and nape — pheromones leaking uncontrollably.

“Ughhh…”

Just a few more steps and he could reach his phone. But the muscles in his legs melted, leaving him collapsing.

“Ah!”

He crashed on the floor, writhing under waves of heat and dizziness.

Lee Jiwoon was an atypical Omega, classed as “hypo‑expressive” (열성 오메가, yeolseong)². Though diagnosed Omega in adolescence, his pheromone levels were unusually low. Doctors had said suppressants could control any potential heat cycles.

From his teens he had diligently taken them — partly because his family was poor, and an accidental pregnancy or marriage would have ruined him. He policed himself constantly, never wanting pheromones to inconvenience others.

Fortunately, the suppressants had always worked—up until now. He had reached twenty‑seven without ever experiencing a full “heat.” He only guessed the dates — on sleepy lethargic days every few months, he would assume, That must have been my heat window.

But right now, what he experienced was a full extreme heat cycle, years overdue. His pheromone glands, pressed down for years, suddenly erupted all at once, filling the air with intense, intoxicating pheromones, dragging him mercilessly into heat.

“Hhhaahh—”

Fluid gushed again between his legs. Jiwoon instinctively knew what it was, but his fogged mind could hardly rationalize anything — except I need Taecheon. I need him now.

Shakily, he grabbed his phone. Too weak to type a message, he pressed call. He didn’t even think about the time of day.

After only a few rings, Taecheon picked up.

—“Jiwoon. What’s wrong?”

Hearing that deep voice made him want to cry.

—“Why aren’t you speaking? Jiwoon, what’s happening?”

His silence made Taecheon’s voice sharpen with panic.

—“Jiwoon! Answer me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“T‑Taecheon…”

—“Jiwoon!”

“M‑my body… something’s wrong… it feels so strange.”

—“Where are you right now?”

“A…at home… hhhaah…”

His throat burned, breaths harsh, words nearly incoherent.

—“I’m coming immediately. Hold on.”

Before he could even register the words, Jiwoon collapsed unconscious. The phone slipped from his trembling hand and clattered to the floor.