Chapter 1

The dazzling crystal chandelier scattered a blinding brilliance throughout the wedding hall. Tens of thousands of fresh flowers, brought in from elsewhere, filled the hall with their fragrant scent, while at the very center of the platform stood the protagonists of this world.

Kang Taeon, the main top, a Dominant Alpha who possessed unfathomable wealth and power.

And beside him stood Baek Hamin, the main bottom, a breathtakingly beautiful Recessive Omega, smiling shyly.

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience as they celebrated the perfect union of the two. It was a wedding that could easily be called the wedding of the century.

“Live happily ever after, seriously!”

I hope you two bicker and fuss over each other until your hair turns completely white and live together for a hundred years.

In a corner of the guest seating, there was a young man clapping more enthusiastically than anyone else. To an outside observer, he looked genuinely moved, as though he were sincerely blessing the bride and groom’s future.

But in reality, the young man’s heart was overflowing with relief and a sense of accomplishment greater than anyone else’s.

His name was Jeong Iwon.

Originally, in this world—in other words, in the BL novel he had been reading—he was the “minor-character bottom” destined to meet a horrific end.

The original Jeong Iwon was a tragic villain who, relying solely on his status as a Dominant Omega, became obsessively attached to Kang Taeon and tormented Baek Hamin in every possible way, eventually meeting a miserable downfall without anyone even knowing what had happened to him.

But one day, Jeong Iwon suddenly opened his eyes inside the body of this damn minor character.

And in order to survive, he immediately flattened himself completely.

He recognized his place, learned to read the room, and concealed his pheromones.

The original Jeong Iwon had constantly released his scent in every direction, trying to seduce Alphas. But the Jeong Iwon who had possessed his body lived with pheromone suppressants practically glued to his mouth, sealing away his pheromones so thoroughly that no one could detect them.

And instead of clinging to them with suffocating obsession, he chose to take on the role of a supporter who passionately cheered on the couple’s love from behind the scenes.

After that tearful farce and desperate struggle for survival, Jeong Iwon finally managed to completely overcome his death flags and survive all the way to the original ending—the very wedding taking place before his eyes—with his body and limbs intact!

I did it. I’m finally alive! Now all that’s left is to break free from the shackles of this damn original story, throw away all my worries and responsibilities, and enjoy a comfortable retirement.

With a huge grin stretching from ear to ear, Jeong Iwon looked around.

But the moment his gaze stopped at the VIP guest seats near the front of the platform, he suddenly stiffened.

In a wedding hall that should have been filled with blessings and joy, there were two men emitting such ominous and chilling killing intent that it looked as though they might stain the entire venue with blood at any moment.

One of them was sitting in the front row with his legs crossed, gripping a champagne glass so tightly that it looked ready to shatter in his hand.

His name was Kwon Heeseong.

A third-generation chaebol from one of the highest-ranking families in South Korea’s business world, and a notorious playboy.

He wore a leisurely smile, one corner of his lips tilted upward as though he couldn’t care less. Yet around him, thick and vicious pheromones swirled threateningly, as if they might explode at any moment and suffocate everyone nearby.

The other man was leaning crookedly against the very back wall of the wedding hall, glaring toward the groom with beastlike eyes, looking as though he might leap onto the platform at any moment and tear out his throat.

He was Yoon Mujin, a poor genius boxer who had grown up in the slums.

From his bloodshot eyes and tightly clenched jaw, it was obvious that he was desperately holding back the emotions surging inside him.

In the original story, these were the pitiful second male leads who had passionately loved Baek Hamin but were ultimately never chosen, causing them to fall into darkness.

Now, as the main couple vowed eternal love and kissed, the sense of loss and fury consuming these two beasts had already exceeded their breaking point.

How terrifying.

I’d better get out of here before that stray fire spreads over this way.

Afraid that the aggressive tension between the Alphas might stimulate the pheromones he had painstakingly suppressed and cause them to leak out, Jeong Iwon shrank into himself.

He quietly slipped out through the back door of the wedding hall before the officiant had even finished his speech, without bothering to collect his meal ticket.

Now he could say goodbye forever to both the regret-filled second male leads and the perfect main couple.

After leaving the wedding hall, Jeong Iwon picked up the large luggage bag he had packed in advance and headed straight for Seoul Station without a moment’s hesitation.

His destination was a quiet, small rural village at the southernmost end of the country—a place he had thoroughly researched and prepared for as a contingency plan ever since he first possessed this body.

On a spacious wooden veranda bathed in warm spring sunlight, Jeong Iwon stretched.

He was dressed in comfortable, loose work pants and a stretched-out white cotton T-shirt, with the finishing touch being a bright yellow floral apron tied securely around his waist.

“Ah, the weather’s really nice.”

There was no pollution from the city, nor any of the ominous pheromones of Alphas that had once stung his nose and squeezed the breath from his lungs.

As he inhaled the clean air deep into his lungs, Jeong Iwon’s body relaxed, and the pheromones he had kept suppressed all this time slowly began to rise.

He didn’t have to worry about anyone’s opinion anymore.

For the first time, he was completely free.

“It’s about time to eat. So, what should I have today?”

What was in the refrigerator again?

Jeong Iwon racked his brain as he walked into the kitchen.

Chop chop chop chop—!

First, he finely chopped the fresh green onions, onions, and Korean zucchini that the elderly woman next door had given him that morning.

Then he roughly tore the tofu he had bought at the local market yesterday into large chunks.

He dumped everything into a pitch-black earthenware pot, added a generous amount of homemade soybean paste, and brought it to a vigorous boil.

A rich, savory, salty aroma immediately filled the air.

He added a pot of freshly cooked rice, its grains glistening beautifully, along with young lettuce picked straight from the garden and chamnamul—the seasoned aster greens he had tossed with a spicy-sweet dressing.

“And now, the finishing touch!”

With thick slices of Spam and a fried egg browned to perfection in a frying pan, he had a meal that could make even a course dinner at a high-end restaurant seem unappealing.

“Let’s eat!”

Jeong Iwon spread a small dining tray on the wooden platform and plopped himself down.

He scooped up a huge spoonful of rice and stuffed it into his mouth.

The rice alone was delicious, but adding a spoonful of doenjang stew made it absolutely heavenly.

The salty, deeply savory broth soaked into every grain of rice, creating an incredible burst of umami.

“Mmm, that’s right. A person lives on the strength of rice. This is what living is supposed to taste like!”

The complicated emotional battles were over.

So was the survival game in which he had desperately struggled under the constant fear that someone might kill him.

Now he had a simple yet fulfilling life in a peaceful country house—tending his vegetable garden and cooking himself delicious meals three times a day.

Within that peaceful routine, Jeong Iwon was enjoying the ultimate form of happiness.

No one would be able to disturb his perfect retirement.

He happily chewed his food with cheeks stuffed to the brim, grinning from ear to ear.

Completely unaware that an injured beast, drowning in heartbreak and despair, had crossed into the quiet rural village by footsteps guided by either coincidence or fate.

The afternoon sun blazed over the empty rural village, almost as though it were drilling straight through the tops of people’s heads.

Through the quiet, peaceful air came an incongruous, enormous shadow staggering into view at the end of the paved road at the village entrance.

Yoon Mujin.

A poor boxer who had clawed his way up from rock bottom with nothing but his bare fists, and the second male lead from the original story who had suffered from an intense, devoted love for Baek Hamin.

Now, having lost everything and been driven to the edge of the cliff, he walked down the dusty country road looking as precarious as a wounded beast.

His right hand hung limply at his side, wrapped tightly in a crude bandage stained with dark-red blood.

It was the result of the reckless underground sparring match he had fought a few days earlier after losing his reason upon hearing the news of Hamin’s wedding.

His ligament had been stretched, and there was damage to the bone.

For a boxer, it was a devastating injury.

But what had torn him apart more cruelly than his physical pain or ruined career was the sight of his only salvation and first love, Baek Hamin, smiling brightly in another man’s arms as he vowed to spend eternity with him at the wedding.

He had lost everything.

He could no longer step into the ring, and the person he had loved enough to give his life for had left him forever.

Mujin had spent several days wandering the streets in a state where, despite still breathing, he was no different from a dead man.

Eventually, his footsteps carried him to the hometown of his late grandmother—the only person who had ever embraced him long ago.

He had come down here without thinking, searching for the wrinkled hands that had once held him and the warmth of the old kitchen furnace.

But there was no way that a nameless rural village he was visiting after more than a decade would still have a house or blood relative waiting to welcome him.

With nowhere to stay, no purpose, and no hope, he wandered aimlessly around the village with hollow eyes.

Around his enormous body, gloomy pheromones carrying the earthy scent of soil after rain drifted through the air.

He had lost even the bare minimum of reason required to contain his pheromones.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Whose family does that huge man belong to, anyway? He’s thin as a skeleton, and look at those hollow eyes.”

“My goodness, look at all that blood coming from his hand. It’s dripping bright red. Is he some criminal who got into a frightening fight somewhere and ran away? Goodness. How scary.”

“He’s going to collapse and die right there in the street at this rate. Shouldn’t someone go over and at least talk to him, see where he’s from?”

The elderly women who had gathered beneath the large zelkova tree in front of the village hall, sitting in the pavilion while peeling and preparing garlic, all turned their eyes toward Mujin.

As their whispers, filled with concern, fear, and suspicion, grew louder, the village headwoman suddenly slapped her knee.

“Oh, goodness! How can a bunch of old women like us go out there when we’re scared? What if he hurts us or something happens? You know that young man who moved into the blue-roofed house on the hill a few days ago? That handsome young fellow from Seoul who’s so polite and bursting with energy! Let’s have that Seoul boy go take a look!”

And that was how the elderly women’s message eventually reached Jeong Iwon.

“Ah, seriously, Grandma. I was just about to grill some mackerel! At this rate, I’m going to miss lunch today!”

After receiving the village headwoman’s urgent and persistent summons, Jeong Iwon hurried down there, grumbling with his lips pushed out in a pout.