Chapter 10: Blood Tears and the Contract of Fate

“Doctor Kim, what is wrong with him?”

“F-first… hospital. First, we must get to the hospital.”

Junseong, barely regaining his senses, stammered out the words.

While Manager Park directed other nearby employees to have the car ready, Seonghye listened to their conversation in silence. He blinked and asked softly:

“Are we going back to the hospital I was at?”

At his question, Junseong nodded with a forced calm. The priority was getting the patient checked. However, mocking their efforts to maintain composure, Seonghye’s previously fierce expression brightened instantly—like flipping a palm.

That immediate, visceral reaction was chilling enough to fluster even Junseong, who had seen many facets of Seonghye’s personality.

“Then I can see Kwon Yunhwan again, right? If I go back to that hospital.”

Before he even finished speaking, Seonghye took a long stride toward Junseong. He was breathing so heavily that his chest visibly heaved up and down.

“Ye-yeah. So let’s go to the hospital first. Get examined, get treated, and then… after that.”

They say bad premonitions are never wrong. In that moment, Junseong prayed his guess was off. Even as he watched Seonghye’s pupils contract sharply upon hearing the car was ready, he hoped he was mistaken.

But then, as Seonghye’s eyelids closed and opened again, the tears that spilled out caused everyone to freeze as if by command.

Instead of clear tears that should have left no trace, the tracks covering his face were a stark, vivid red.

Junseong’s face turned white instantly. He had never seen this before. Was this an aftereffect of the accident? Bloody tears. While Junseong’s gaze remained frozen on Seonghye’s face, Seonghye, blinking into the void, muttered to himself.

“No.”

He spoke with a face that looked utterly uninterested in his own condition.

“Even if I go to the hospital, he won’t be there. Why are you lying?”

“…Lying? Why would I lie to you?”

Seonghye slowly closed and opened his eyes.

“He isn’t there. Not there, but…”

“…….”

“Tell me. Where is he?”

Tear drops passed his pale cheeks and fell from his chin, dotting the marble floor. Like a fatal error hidden within broken code, it displayed Seonghye’s state—warped and far from normal.

As he wiped his face a couple of times with his large, bony hands, Seonghye’s porcelain-like face became soaked in red, exuding a macabre atmosphere. Even Junseong, standing close by, felt nauseous from the stench of blood, but the fact that the man himself didn’t care was even more horrifying.

Thick veins stood out on Seonghye’s neck as he stared ahead. The feeling was definitely not good.

“Manager.”

At the danger signals Seonghye’s body was sending, Junseong didn’t hesitate to look at Manager Park. Fortunately, several employees were already poised to jump in on Park’s signal.

“Doctor Kim… Seonghye hasn’t gone completely crazy, has he?”

Even Manager Park, who usually showed his rough nature without filter, spoke in a hushed tone before the unhinged Alpha. Sensing it might be a burden for a non-possessor to handle an unstable Alpha, Junseong gave a slight shake of his head.

Instead, Junseong watched Seonghye wipe the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand and whispered:

“Manager… are you absolutely sure Seonghye was administered pheromone stabilizers before he went down to Sanghui-ri?”

“Don’t even ask.”

If there was a stimulus capable of waking even dormant pheromones, Junseong knew of only one.

The situation in front of him suddenly felt miles away.

He slowly parted his lips toward Seonghye, who was breathing heavily as if ready to snap at any second.

“…For now… let’s just get him to the hospital.”

That was several weeks ago. Since then, Seonghye had been diagnosed by the country’s leading professors, and they all, as if by agreement, reached the same conclusion.

It was a physical side effect caused by an Alpha’s unilateral imprinting. In Seonghye’s case, the symptoms were significantly more severe than typical cases. Usually, when Alphas imprint on non-possessors (Betas), their pheromone systems break down and cause physical abnormalities.

“If you leave him like this, he’ll either jump out a window or run into traffic. One of the two. It means he’s going mad.”

According to the test results, the side effects caused by the absence of the imprinting target were more fatal to him than other Alphas. Beyond simply requiring pheromone stability, he displayed an abnormal obsession with the target’s existence.

Professor Jang, who had been Seonghye’s primary physician for a long time, looked at the sleeping man and tsked, saying, “This fellow is finally doing things only Dominant Alphas do,” though he quickly shook his head, afraid the words might become reality.

Instead, he turned his anger toward Junseong, his most talented student.

“Hey, you brat! You’re the one who wrote your graduation thesis on imprinting between Alphas and non-Omegas, and you’re asking me about a patient’s imprinting? If you’re going to work like that, go back to med school!”

Regardless of feeling ashamed before the professor’s thunderous shouting, Junseong felt frustrated because there truly was no other way.

“I don’t care who he imprinted on; don’t even think about forcibly separating them until the treatment is over. As his emotional fluctuations worsen, his body will fall apart too.”

While Professor Jang was the primary physician, Junseong was in charge of Seonghye’s psychological counseling. He had to remain silent when his mentor barked that he should know the inner thoughts of the patient better than anyone.

“An Alpha’s unilateral imprinting takes quite a while to erase, and in Seonghye’s case, the direction of treatment is tricky…. Ah, come to think of it, I missed the most important part.”

Breaking off his explanation, Junseong glanced at an SUV parked on the opposite side. Inside the darkly tinted vehicle sat several employees, instructed by Manager Park to stay inside.

The odd thing was that each of them had a hand on the door handle, ready to spring out at any moment.

Moreover, they all wore the same frozen, terrified expression, as if they had seen a ghost.

Junseong turned his gaze back to Yunhwan, who was waiting for him to continue. Based on Manager Park’s background check, the man in front of him was a Beta who had only had heterosexual relationships and had an extremely low genetic probability of manifesting a secondary gender.

Regarding secondary genders, Junseong—a doctor—knew more than anyone. As Professor Jang said, his thesis dealt with the love between non-possessors and possessors.

He knew all too well how much their union cost each other and how many obstacles they had to leap over to reach a fairy-tale ending.

Indeed, each other’s mere existence was a “bad move” in the game of life.

Junseong ignored Manager Park’s gaze urging him to speak and looked at Yunhwan again.

The man, who had a somewhat ordinary impression, was desperate to hide his face even at this moment. He wasn’t rubbing his cheeks loudly; rather, whenever someone’s gaze approached, he would instinctively bow his head or turn away.

Because of that, his quite neat features never lingered at the end of anyone’s vision for long. Except for Junseong, who had already spoken with him several times.

“The target of Seonghye’s imprinting is you, Yunhwan. Now, wait. There’s no need to panic. We’ve already prepared a solution.”

Before Yunhwan could even part his lips in shock, Junseong’s hands pressed firmly down on his shoulders.

“You’re surprised.”

“Wha-what did you… just say?”

It’s okay, I understand. Junseong patted Yunhwan’s shoulder with a face that said exactly that. By firmly pressing down on the trembling shoulder, he prevented the other man’s potential flight.

“See? I was hesitant to tell you because I was afraid you’d react like this.”

His voice was flat and calm, as if he had anticipated every bit of this.

Then again, it would have been weirder not to be surprised.

To a man whose crops failed every time he sowed them and whose greatest life hurdle was the hospital bills for his only family, his grandmother, one more ordeal had arrived.

“For Seonghye to receive treatment and return the imprinting to nothing, we absolutely need your help.”

I need you. Junseong’s gaze as he said this was firmer than ever. Manager Park, watching the situation from the other side, quipped, “Kwon Yunhwan’s eyes are about to fall out of his head.”

Indeed, Yunhwan looked dazed, as if he couldn’t possibly take any more shock. Only his intermittently blinking eyelashes proved he hadn’t fainted.

Seonghye imprinted on who? Did I hear that wrong?

Meanwhile, the tips of his shoes began to creep toward the opposite side of the porch.

The wide-open gate and the mud-caked shoes were quickly caught in Manager Park’s sights.

“Looks like you’re planning to bolt if given the chance. Before that, shall we talk about money?”

Manager Park smiled as he swallowed the remaining clump of grain powder at the bottom of his glass. Manager Hong went back inside to refill the empty glass, and Junseong stood up from the porch to let the two of them talk more comfortably.