Chapter 5: The Question That Shouldn’t Be Asked

Beom Euigeon entered through the back door of the lecture hall.

Chaewoo stiffened his body and fixed his gaze on his desk.

It felt as if only Euigeon’s footsteps echoed loudly in the room.

He hadn’t realized it because he hadn’t been conscious of it before, but the presence of his pheromones was quite strong.

Even from a distance, he was distinctly different from the others.

With each step Euigeon took, the distance between them narrowed.

The presence felt from behind made Chaewoo’s pulse quicken.

He was anxious.

‘He wouldn’t talk to me, would he?’ Chaewoo bit his lip.

All his attention was focused on Euigeon.
He desperately wished Euigeon would just pass him by.

Because of the tension, seconds dragged on like minutes.

The pheromones wafting from nearby, though not intentionally emitted, were dominant and intense enough to make one cower.

As if Chaewoo’s wish had worked, Euigeon walked right past him.

Only after seeing his back as he sat near the front of the lecture hall did Chaewoo’s tense muscles slowly relax.

“Sigh.”

“Why the sigh?”
Kim Yunso poked Chaewoo with the tip of her pen.

Just as he was about to say it was nothing, the teaching assistant came in and called attendance.

The cluttered lecture hall quickly quieted down.

And moments later, the professor began the lecture.

Chaewoo glanced at Euigeon’s back and recalled the information he had about him.

Euigeon had been a well-known name in a good way since he was a freshman.

The fact that his mother was a pianist and his father a violinist was a famous story that every music student knew.

His parents weren’t just any music college graduates; they were renowned musicians whose world concert schedules were packed year-round.

Since their child had entered the vocal department at the top of his class, it was naturally the talk of the town.

From a flawless family, a dominant Alpha, and annoyingly good at singing.

It was even rumored among the students that the tenured professors in the vocal department had fought over which class Euigeon would join.

If one were to look at it purely in terms of specs or conditions, the possibility of him spending a fortune to find a Reset Partner was fully plausible.

However, Euigeon was only twenty-four.

And a college student at that.

A twenty-four-year-old college student commissioning something an infertile couple would do.
Wasn’t that strange?

Anyway, being from a famous family of musicians, they probably wouldn’t want the fact that they were looking for a Reset Partner to bear a child to become public knowledge.

Chaewoo didn’t know what Euigeon thought of him, but the chances of him going out of his way to approach him and strike up a conversation were slim.

He might just dismiss it as a happening created by an amusing coincidence.

Chaewoo decided to conclude the matter as just that—a ‘happening’.

Doing so made his heart feel much lighter.

Fortunately, Euigeon seemed to have no interest in what happened yesterday.
So, things would likely pass by without incident.

Chaewoo was convinced of that.
At least until he heard a voice calling him right after the lecture ended.

“Senior Seol.”
At the uncomfortably clear voice, Chaewoo turned around with a bitter expression.

Euigeon approached him and held out a sheet of paper.

“This is our class’s practice room schedule for this week. Could you fill it out for me?”

For music students to use the practice rooms on campus, they had to apply for a schedule in advance.

Seeing the blank paper, it seemed he meant for Chaewoo to go around to the classmates and write down their preferred times one by one.

“That’s the TA’s job.”

“The TA asked me to do it, but I just got an urgent call from the professor. I have to go now.”

“Why me? There are plenty of other students besides me.”

“I asked you because having you do it is the most efficient. Since you’re the most senior, the others won’t procrastinate and will write it down right away.”

“If you’re talking about seniors, Kim Yunso is also…”

Chaewoo trailed off as he looked at the seat next to him.

The extreme outsider Kim Yunso had swiftly exited the lecture hall the moment Euigeon started talking to Chaewoo.

There were no more excuses.

With suspicious eyes, Chaewoo took the paper and caught the classmates who were just about to leave.

Fortunately, Euigeon didn’t say anything else and went down to the professor’s office.

His face was calm, but inside, Chaewoo was screaming.

They had never once had a proper conversation, so he was suspicious of Euigeon’s intentions for suddenly speaking to him.

Driven by an inferiority complex, Chaewoo had consistently shown his dislike for Euigeon.

Because of that, they had absolutely no history of talking properly.

They weren’t on the kind of terms where he would do him a favor like this.

“Hey, you’re a sophomore, right?”

“Ah… yes.”

“Write down your practice room schedule for this week quickly. Here.”

“Just a moment.”

“Don’t think too hard, just write something down.” Chaewoo pressured the innocent junior.

Since each class led by a tenured professor in the vocal department had just over ten students, what Euigeon asked wasn’t overly burdensome.

The entire undergraduate body across all years was less than one hundred and fifty students, so they generally knew each other’s schedules and faces.

Chaewoo looked around the increasingly empty lecture hall, his leg shaking nervously.

Euigeon’s bag was still on his desk.
That meant he hadn’t left completely and would return.

Chaewoo planned to fill out the schedule as quickly as possible, hand it to the TA, and run away before Euigeon came back.

“All done, Senior.”

“Good job.”
More than half of the schedule was filled in just a few minutes.

The ones who hadn’t written yet were Kim Yunso, Beom Euigeon, and two others.

With this much done, the TA would probably contact them individually to ask.

Chaewoo grabbed the paper and hurriedly packed his bag.

“Have a good day, Senior.”

“Yeah. Bye.”
The juniors from the same class glanced at Chaewoo as they left the lecture hall.

“Should we ask the senior if he’s coming to the class gathering today?”

“He doesn’t usually come to those things anyway.”

“Ah, you ask him.”

“Ugh. Why me? It’s embarrassing.”

“Crazy. Who told you to ask him out on a date?”

‘I’m crazy busy and they’re talking about a class gathering? Of course I’m not going.’
Chaewoo pretended not to hear the conversation coming from behind him.

Once the students murmuring in front of the lecture hall all left, the room was empty.
Having packed all his things, Chaewoo was also about to leave.

“Are you done?”

With terrible timing, Euigeon returned.

‘Why the hell did that jerk have to come back? I would have handed it to the TA just fine. There’s a reason I dislike him.’

Chaewoo lamented inwardly and avoided his gaze.

“Almost. The rest aren’t at school today, so I think they’ll need to be contacted separately.”

As he held out the paper, Euigeon immediately checked its contents.

Chaewoo’s nerves were on edge as he watched him, afraid he might say something else.

“Got it.”

“…Then I’m leaving.”

“Goodbye.”

Chaewoo made an effort to ignore the gaze on him and turned around.

Fortunately, it passed without further comment. Phew.

“Wait a minute.”

However, he was caught again by the deep bass voice that hovered between tenor and baritone.
Chaewoo barely swallowed the curse that was about to pop out.

“What now?”

“Your practice time isn’t written down, Senior Seol.”

“Ah.”
Like a fool.

Chaewoo hurriedly turned back and snatched the paper.

He had been so focused on writing down the other students’ schedules that he had forgotten his own.

Heat rushed to his face.

His pale hands hurriedly unzipped his cross-body bag to get a pen.

For some reason, today of all days, he couldn’t find his pencil case as it was buried between sheet music and books.

‘f*ck, nothing is going right.’

“Here’s a pen.”

“Uh…”
Chaewoo paused when he saw the pen held out by a large hand.

“Thanks.”

As if he had never hesitated, he snatched the pen and scribbled down a time.
Scratch, scratch.

The surroundings were so quiet that the sound of the pen on paper could be heard clearly.
It fueled an inexplicable tension.

His stomach churned.

An intangible gaze pricked Chaewoo’s body.

Was it the influence of Euigeon’s pheromones?

Sometimes, when compatibility was low, the other person’s pheromones could feel this unpleasant.

Chaewoo glanced up at the pheromone concentration meter installed on the lecture hall wall.

Contrary to his expectations, the number was close to zero.
It wasn’t a pheromone issue.

“I’m done.”

He held out the filled paper and the pen, but the other person just stood still without taking them.

With a mix of slight irritation and confusion, Chaewoo lifted the gaze he had kept down the whole time to look at Euigeon.

He intended to ask why he wasn’t taking it.

However, the moment he raised his head, no words came out.

Dark, deep eyes were scrutinizing him so intensely it was creepy.
At the direct eye contact, Chaewoo’s eyes widened.

Euigeon pulled up the corners of his mouth and smiled.

“Senior Seol, you’re an Omega, right?”
His heart dropped.

At the same time, he realized: Euigeon had been playing with him this whole time.
This trivial practice room schedule had been nothing but an excuse to test his reaction.

It felt like a blow to the head.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was just asking. Out of curiosity.”

“Why would you be curious about that? Calling a Beta an Omega out of the blue. You call yourself a dominant Alpha and you can’t even tell that apart?”

Contrary to his trembling insides, Chaewoo shot back bluntly.

Even if Euigeon knew everything, he had no intention of admitting it.

He had no desire to pathetically confess that he was looking into being a Reset Partner because he was short on money.

“Is that something to get so worked up about?”

“Because you’re suddenly spouting nonsense.”

“Why did you come to the practice room yesterday, then?”
It was a careless tone, innocent like a child’s curiosity, yet it caught him off guard.

“The person who was supposed to come didn’t, and only you showed up, Senior Seol…”

Guilty, Chaewoo forced his expression to compose.

“I told you I went to give you the printout.”

“You hate me, Senior Seol.”

“You know well.”
Deciding it wasn’t worth talking to him any further, Chaewoo grabbed his bag and stood up.

“I was mistaken yesterday because I thought you didn’t take it. I don’t know what that has to do with being an Omega. You know it’s rude to ask a question like that, right?”

From the moment Euigeon approached and asked if he was an Omega, his thoughts had become tangled.

He knew adding more words wasn’t persuasive, but for now, his only option was to insist.
Whether Euigeon believed it or not was the next problem.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, my mistake.”

Euigeon chuckled softly and shrugged as if he were watching an entertaining scene.