Chapter 210

Baekgyeong concluded that Hybris had kidnapped him in order to get their hands on the rut suppressant. They had murdered his mother to stop her plan of exposing the suppressant’s clinical trials to the outside world and, in doing so, officially revealing the existence of alphas.

Whether coincidence or not, one year earlier, researchers from Ward 3 of Stone Creek Psychiatric Hospital had died in a helicopter crash caused by a bird strike. That accident had occurred just as the suppressant’s development was completed and preliminary clinical research was about to begin. In both cases, it was right before the existence of alphas could be exposed, and the deaths of those involved buried the clinical studies before they could even start.

Baekgyeong could not pinpoint exactly when Kim Seontae had been bought by Hybris. Yet he could not shake the thought that Seontae had been deeply involved not only in his mother’s death but also in the researchers’ accident. What was certain was that Hybris had not yet managed to get their hands on the suppressant data they wanted.

In the end, Hybris must have assumed that the suppressant formula was stored in the phone his mother had left him as inheritance, and so they had abducted him to the island to force him to crack its encryption.

“If you don’t want Hybris chasing you any longer, then release the suppressant data on an open-source platform.”

At Isaac’s words, Baekgyeong frowned. Uploading the suppressant recipe to a platform accessible to anyone, letting those in need use it. Baekgyeong himself had already considered that possibility. But the moment the existence of alphas was revealed to the world, the crimes that had been concealed would be exposed as well.

And what grated on him even more was how Isaac, in front of Siron, slipped in as if without malice, speaking in a way that made it feel like he was “supplementing” him, as if dismissing his abilities and stripping him of initiative.

“I know that might be the best option. But if I think of it as the price of my mother’s life, I don’t want to rush into it so easily.”

Isaac tilted his head slightly and studied him.

“If you can take responsibility for that judgment, then the choice is yours.”

After tidying up the conversation, Isaac looked back down at the phone.

“Don’t read the second folder. They’re just personal letters.”

He looked back at Baekgyeong, irritated, shook his head, and opened the third folder.

“Latitude 34 degrees 58 minutes 41 seconds north, longitude 126 degrees 49 minutes 20 seconds east... what’s this?”

“Coordinates. Turns out it’s Naju, Jeollanam-do, Korea.”

“What’s there?”

“I don’t know. I don’t either.”

Isaac stared at the numbers on the phone, then furrowed his brow.

“It’s a file that can be altered.”

Baekgyeong smirked.

“Exactly. You think I’d obediently tell you, when I never know when you’ll stab me in the back?”

“You don’t think I could torture the answer out of you? Or that maybe I don’t even need the data on this phone?”

Baekgyeong let out a short laugh.

“Not the data—you’ll need me. A dying man like you won’t be able to protect Yoon Siron alone.”

With a sneer laced with derision, Baekgyeong jerked his chin toward Siron, who was wheezing beside them. Siron stiffened at Baekgyeong’s words, but as Isaac turned back to glance at him, he quickly averted his eyes.

Though his dislocated shoulder had been reset, his once-healed face was bruised all over again. Isaac took in the sight of Siron’s split lips and mottled cheekbones, let out a long sigh, and turned back toward the car’s windshield.

“If you want to play guard dog, I won’t stop you. But you’d better know your place.”

It takes fourteen hours to drive nonstop from Houston, Texas, to Helso State. But since Siron struggled to sit for long stretches due to the lingering effects of his car accident, they had to stop for another night at a motel in neighboring Alabama before reaching their destination. In the end, the fourteen-hour trip stretched into thirty-one, and the first place they stopped once they reached a small city on the outskirts of Helso State was a large supermarket.

Pretending not to be together, they split up and filled separate carts. Since Isaac’s taste in food couldn’t be trusted and Baekgyeong knew little beyond Korean dishes, Siron took charge of food. He loaded the cart with all kinds of preserved goods, then grabbed a portable gas burner and a few propane canisters.

As he wheeled the overflowing cart toward the register, Siron suddenly froze at a strange scent. Alpha pheromones lingered nearby. About ten meters behind him, Baekgyeong, too, came to a halt. Pulling his cap low, Siron stretched his stiff neck as if to loosen it, sneaking a glance around.

The scent was coming from a woman barely five meters away. She looked to be in her early thirties, her expression fatigued. One hand pushed a cart while the other gripped her child’s arm as they waited in line. Despite the sweltering weather, she wore a scarf. When she bent her head toward her child, faint mottled bruises and bite marks peeked out from beneath the fabric.

“She must have an alpha spouse. Whoever he is, he’s drenched her in pheromones.”

Her hollow eyes stared into nothing, her expression empty like a drained shell. Only when her child chattered did she manage the faintest of smiles.

Alphas hadn’t just dropped from the sky one day. There must have been a family who had loved a dying husband, son, or brother enough to make him into an alpha. But those families couldn’t possibly have known the truth of the procedure, and their current lives had to be nothing short of shattered.

Siron’s thoughts drifted to the panic room in Anna’s house, to Lewis, who had endured rut inside it until his escape. Thinking of Lewis twisted something painfully in his chest.

Alive or dead, Lewis could collapse any day. Siron could not shake the memory of the way Lewis had looked at him—an unwavering gaze filled with blind affection. That gaze clung stubbornly to his mind.

After paying, Siron returned to the van parked in the blind spot behind the supermarket where no CCTV reached. Even when they went to find a late lunch, Lewis was still on his mind. The thoughts he had avoided and pushed aside came crashing in belatedly, like a wave sweeping him off to a place with no ground under his feet.

The restaurant they stopped at for their delayed meal looked as if it hadn’t been touched since its remodeling thirty years ago. The walls were yellowed from smoke and grease, the wooden tables dulled and scattered sparsely across the hall. Once, it might have bustled with patrons, but now only three other customers sat inside.

After eating, Isaac stirred two sugar cubes slowly into his thick espresso. Baekgyeong chewed gum to clear his mouth, Siron sipped cola, all three lost in thought.

“That woman in the supermarket. You both noticed, didn’t you?”

Breaking the silence, Baekgyeong drew their eyes. Isaac spoke first.

“She was showered in pheromones.”

“Pheromone shower,” Siron thought. The phrase was familiar—he had heard it back on the island, from the alpha who had been infatuated with Baekgyeong. The words still felt unnatural on his tongue.

“Yeah. That. You look like you could use it, too.”

Chewing his gum, Baekgyeong leaned toward Siron.

Omega pheromones evaporated quickly; sex pheromones dissipated even faster. But alpha pheromones lingered, heavy and long-lasting. When an alpha marked someone’s body with pheromones, it was a silent threat, a way of claiming them as their “territory” so others wouldn’t dare encroach.

In short, the moment someone was drenched in pheromones, they had already been pulled into the alpha’s world, whether they realized it or not.

Siron’s face tightened in reluctance, but he didn’t say no. For the sake of safety, it might be necessary. The objection came instead from Isaac.

“Anyone coated in alpha pheromones will inevitably be seen in a sexual light. Why should Siron have to endure that gaze?”

It was a man’s response, the kind that avoided exposing pheromones at all. Baekgyeong’s instincts pushed him to retort, but he knew Isaac had a point.

“Or maybe there’s a rule. Maybe no one touches someone drenched in pheromones.”

Siron, listening quietly, let out a deep sigh and shot Isaac a glare.

“I’ve always wondered—why was it me who became the only omega?”

Crushing the empty cola can in his hand, Siron asked the question.

“I can only guess. The experimental environment was crude, and there were too many variables.”

Isaac had combined different genetic sequences, using a specific one extracted from his own blood as a vector, inserting it into a retrovirus, and injecting it into Siron. Most participants had experienced no change—the virus simply destroyed by immune response. But Siron had become an omega. Whether it was environmental factors, suppressed immunity, or some rare genetic marker, Isaac himself could not be sure what had made Siron into an omega.

The one thing certain was that Siron was a being born from his blood. Like a vampire passing on life through shared blood, Siron’s pheromones carried a faint scent of blood. They were of the same kind as Isaac’s, as if he had passed down his very existence into Siron.

By the time Isaac refilled his coffee a second time and Baekgyeong debated ordering more food, the door chimed brightly, ushering in two men along with a gust of dusty air. One looked in his thirties, the other in his fifties, both clad in navy work clothes stained with earth. They crossed the hall and sat by the window, separated from the three by only one aisle.

As if by prior agreement, the men immediately ordered bacon toast and coffee, then launched into chatter about women, marriage, and their boss. Then the younger man slapped his phone loudly on the table and asked:

“So the contract’s finalized?”

“State’s put in an unofficial request. Contract’ll be signed soon.”

“Ha, finally.”

“First time in ten years. No, twelve. Last one was the year Billy started school—so twelve years.”

Their conversation snagged attention. Isaac lifted his coffee cup as if to drink, letting his gaze slide toward the next table.

“They’ll use the chloride?”

“Pentobarbital alone, I’d bet.”

“Yeah, nothing works better for stopping a heart.”

This time, Baekgyeong and Siron both snuck glances their way. The younger man hastily sipped coffee and lowered his voice.

“Scum deserve it, but when it comes down to it—”

He cut himself off with a cough. His superior had given him a look, flicking his eyes toward the trio nearby. Just then, the restaurant owner arrived with heaping plates of bacon toast.

The two men fell silent, gauging them, while Isaac calmly set his cup down on the table.

“Time to go.”

Baekgyeong nodded, and Siron was already rising from his seat.

Once back on the road, they revisited what they had overheard.

“Were they talking about executions?”

At Baekgyeong’s question, Isaac, hands on the wheel, replied:

“From the way they mentioned chloride potassium and pentobarbital, it sounds like it.”

“What’s that?”

“Toxins. They’re probably used in carrying out the death penalty.”

Baekgyeong muttered worriedly.

“Which state is it in?”

Coincidentally, they had just left the borderland where Alabama, Georgia, and Helso met. It meant they couldn’t know for certain which state was planning an execution.

Just then, a green highway sign appeared ahead.

WELCOME TO HELSO – The Twilight State

Their car had already crossed from Alabama into Helso.