10.09.2049, Seoul, Mapo-gu, Hunter’s Association Hospital

  The hospital lobby was its usual controlled chaos, buzzing with hunters in uniform, alphas, omegas, and betas all passing through the same space. Yoon Taeha sat there and stared at the flow of people, some clearly carrying the wounds the gates had created. He thought that all it would take from him was one touch and they’d be healed. Still, he knew the world didn’t work that way. He couldn’t heal everyone without it taking a toll on his body. There was guilt there, but also selfishness.

  A hunter with crutches walked past him, the sliding doors parting automatically for a man who had lost a leg. Probably a veteran. Needless to say, he wasn’t one to enter dungeons anymore. Maybe he had been deployed during Yoon Taeha’s time. The face didn’t spark anything. He never bothered to remember those outside of his team.

  For a moment, Yoon Taeha wondered whether anyone had remembered his face during the ten years he’d been gone, or whether he too had become another nameless veteran falling out of a gate.

  If Kang Jeonhyun were gravely injured, would he be able to simply walk past him too? Or would instinct force him to reach out a hand? The answer was immediate, unwelcome, and painfully honest; he could never ignore that man. The idea alone made his stomach churn, annoyance, fear, and longing all mixed like a cocktail he was getting intoxicated with.

  He kept staring at the man, waiting for his monitor to pop open.

  Name: N/A

  Rank: Revoked

  Birthday: N/A

  Sex: N/A

  Secondary gender: N/A

  Height: N/A

  City of birth: N/A

  Hunter class: N/A

  Qualities: N/A

  Yoon Taeha had never seen this before. The file was as empty as an unregistered hunter’s, but somehow it felt even worse. It wasn’t that the man was unregistered, he had been removed from the system. As if he had never served. Yoon Taeha felt the weight in his chest, wondering whether that was what his file had looked like while he was in a coma.

  “Who are you waiting for?” Doctor Han Yoonseo’s boot nudged his ankle, breaking his thoughts. The doctor looked as casual as always, cigarette hanging between his teeth like he owned the place.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not allowed in a hospital.” Doctor Han laughed dryly.

  “I have a medical condition that requires me to smoke.”

  “Nicotine addiction doesn’t count.”

  “On the contrary, it’s very serious. I might die if I don’t get my daily dose.”

  “What is your daily dose? A full pack?” Yoon Taeha asked, smirking despite himself.

  “Or two,” Doctor Han said, dropping beside him on the bench. Hunters passing through the lobby gave Yoon Taeha side-glances. For omega hunters it was normal. He pretended not to notice. He wasn’t here to prove anything.

  “My sister is with another patient; I’m waiting for her to pick me up.”

  “I’ll join you guys then.” Doctor Han lit his cigarette. Yoon Taeha coughed dramatically, earning an eye-roll.

  “Whatever. My pheromones are not exactly interesting though.”

  “To me they are. You have a very interesting body.” Doctor Han said.

  “Pervert.”

  “You’re reading into my words too much, Lieutenant Yoon.”

  “It’s as if you’re trying to uncover my secrets.” Yoon Taeha laughed.

  “Yes,” Doctor Han said, holding his thumb and forefinger millimeters apart, “and I’m this close to figuring them out.”

  Before Yoon Taeha could reply, his sister appeared.

  “Ya’ll enjoying yourselves?” Yoon Jiyeon materialized out of nowhere. “If you’re done with your gossip, you can come in.” She looked like she’d been awake for thirty hours straight. Knowing her, she probably had.

  Yoon Taeha followed her down the hallway. She blocked Doctor Han with a glare.

  “What do you want?”

  “I got permission.” He nodded toward Yoon Taeha.

  “He’s fine.” Yoon Taeha sighed. His sister shook her head, unconvinced. Concern and irritation crossed her face, but only Doctor Han noticed.

  Inside the exam room, Yoon Taeha sat on the chair beside the pherowave analyzer. Cold sensors touched his skin as Yoon Jiyeon attached them to his forehead and chest. There was no pheromone scent in the room, only the smell of disinfectant and Doctor Han’s cigarette.

  “Chief Han said you want the pheromone shot, is that right?”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to cause any trouble on my missions.” Yoon Taeha admitted. The thought of losing control during a mission was a thorn in his side.

  “I’m not very fond of the shot.” Yoon Jiyeon’s eyes stayed glued to the monitor. “It might have been created by me, but we don’t know the full extent of it yet, and it doesn’t work on everyone. It’s too new to administrate carelessly.”

  “Why are you administering it then?” Yoon Taeha raised his voice, concerned.

  “Because the Association wanted me to, and we only give them to volunteers.”

  “Like the Special Ops?” Yoon Taeha asked. The way Park Minjae had described it hadn’t sounded voluntary.

  “Yup, like the Special Ops.” Of course she didn’t know. The Association was excellent at hiding things, even from its own doctors.

  Doctor Han sat there next to Yoon Taeha, arms crossed, listening to the conversation while Yoon Jiyeon frowned at the screen. Leaned closer. Then closer still.

  “Won’t you look at that…” she murmured. Doctor Han moved beside her.

  “What the hell. Is that even possible?”

  “I’ve never seen a case before… The system might be malfunctioning. Go to the lobby and ask for another analyzer. This can’t be right.”

  Yoon Taeha lifted a hand. “Umm—” He was ignored.

  Doctor Han was back in under a minute, rolling in another monitor with enthusiasm. Yoon Jiyeon stripped off the sensors, replaced them, and started the test again. A few minutes went by with both doctors eyeing Yoon Taeha’s pherowaves on the monitor.

  “I guess you better call someone,” Doctor Han finally said.

  “No.” Yoon Jiyeon tore off her gloves and slapped them onto the table. “I’ll keep him as my guinea pig. I’m not handing him to the Association.”

  “Technically, you’d be handing him to me.”

  “Even worse. Also, you don’t do pheromone research; you’re in fact useless.”

  “Wow, that hurts.”

  The veins on Yoon Taeha’s forehead twitched, and finally his patience snapped.

  “Do you guys mind finally telling me what the hell is going on?”

  Yoon Jiyeon rubbed her forehead.

  “Well… I’ve never seen this happen before, but in theory I don’t believe it impossible.”

  “Stop beating around the bush. Just tell him,” Doctor Han muttered, lighting yet another cigarette.

  “You manifested as an omega when you were around, what? Fourteen? Fifteen?” Yoon Jiyeon began. “Your pheromones were tested then, many times after, and they’ve always stayed the same. You’re a recessive omega.”

  “Okay, so what’s the problem now? I’m a recessive omega. Big whoop, we knew this already.”

  “Well, the problem is that you’re not a recessive omega anymore.” Her eyes sharpened.

  “Did I turn into a beta or what?” Yoon Taeha laughed, knowing he emitted pheromones just fine.

  “No, you’ve become a dominant omega.” Doctor Han’s grin was barely restrained, he was overjoyed. Both siblings glared at him. Yoon Taeha still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

  “So… what does that mean exactly?”

  “Well, first, giving you the shot is not an option anymore.” Doctor Han folded his arms. Yoon Jiyeon followed with, “And it’s that much easier for you to get pregnant.”

  Yoon Taeha stared at them as if they were speaking another language.

  “Have you been smoking together now? Me, get pregnant? What the actual fuck?” Yoon Taeha rubbed his temples.

  “You knew pregnancy was possible, even with male omegas. This can’t come as a surprise to you.”

  “Yeah, I know, I know. But being recessive, I also know the possibility of it is very, very small.”

  “You’re not recessive anymore, darling.” Doctor Han smirked. “We better get you some good suppressants, unless we want to see babies with the surname Kang soon.” He laughed so hard he almost dropped his cigarette.

  Yoon Taeha nearly fainted. A miniature version of Kang Jeonhyun raising a tiny eyebrow at him? Absolutely not. He’d rather walk back into a gate unarmed.

  “Hey, you bastard, do you want to die?”

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Doctor Han wiped his eyes. “Anyway, you might want to stay away from dominant alphas for the time being.”

  Yoon Jiyeon nodded her head, agreeing with Doctor Han.

  “You’ll come here for weekly check-ups,” she said, giving Doctor Han a warning glare, “and we’ll be keeping this under wraps.”

  Doctor Han lifted his hands innocently.

  Yoon Taeha sank back into the chair with an unsteady pulse. Becoming dominant changed everything, and none of it felt safe. Especially when a certain alpha was already lodged in his mind like a splinter he couldn’t pull out.

  10.09.2049, Seoul, Seocho-gu, Seocho Central Heights

  “Why are you picking at your food? Some children are starving!” Yoon Mi-sook slapped her son’s head lightly. Yoon Taeha’s mind was still stuck in the hospital, replaying every word his sister and Doctor Han had dropped on him like bombs. Nothing anchored him.

  Across the table, Yoon Jiyeon watched her brother, reading his expressions like a chart. His stiffness didn’t match the casual family setting, but then again, when had anything in their lives ever been casual? She knew exactly which part of the day he was stuck on. His relationship with Kang Jeonhyun had already been rocky, but now? Things were about to get impossible.

  Yoon Jiyeon toyed with her chopsticks, debating her earlier decision. Keeping his new status under wraps had felt like the responsible thing to do, protecting him from the Association and opportunistic alphas.

  But it also meant hiding things from Chief Han Seri. And Yoon Jiyeon was close with her, too close. Not telling her felt like a betrayal of trust yet telling her might doom her brother. She couldn’t risk Chief Han separating her personal affection from her professional duty. She needed time to think.

  Her gaze shifted to Yoon Taeha again. If the only dominant alpha routinely near him was Kang Jeonhyun…, had he noticed?

  A thought followed quickly. The Second Lieutenant had visited her brother regularly during his coma, five years of exposure. A dominant alpha would never miss a change that significant. The possibility made Yoon Jiyeon’s stomach twist. Could prolonged exposure to dominant alpha pheromones during Yoon Taeha’s coma have influenced his secondary differentiation? And of all people, Kang Jeonhyun had been the one to predict Yoon Taeha’s awakening… because he had reacted to his pheromones.

  Yoon Jiyeon’s eyes widened. She shot upright, chopsticks slamming onto the tabletop.

  “I need to go to the lab. Now.”

  She didn’t even grab proper shoes, just ran out the door in her slippers. Both Yoon Taeha and Mi-sook stared, dumbfounded.

  “I will never understand that girl,” their mother finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Me neither,” Yoon Taeha replied.

  “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an even bigger mystery to me. Although I’m happy to have you back.” She smiled.

  “Yeah, it hasn’t been the easiest ride, for anyone.” Yoon Taeha admitted, staring at his bowl of rice. His mother leaned in to pile more meat onto his plate, the only way she knew how to comfort him.

  “Have you been working now?” she asked.

  “I’ve been to a few easier dungeons. The Special Ops do trainings with the beginners and the lower classes, so I’ve been joining as a supervisor.” There was no need to tell her he’d already stepped into A-class gates again. No reason to worry her. She didn’t need to know that after a loop of Baekho, Hyeonmu, and Cheongyong gates, a red one was approaching sooner or later.

  “Oh, but isn’t that good. Not too much danger then.”

  “I just didn’t think it’d be this easy,” he lied smoothly, “but they’re assigning me to the training center starting tomorrow.”

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  “What about the gates? Are you finally quitting?” Her voice wasn’t joking, but he laughed anyway.

  “No, it’ll be between missions,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I’m looking forward to it. Maybe I can break the toxic cycle of soldier training.”

  His mother’s face fell into seriousness.

  “Honey, this is not the North. They don’t experience the same hardships here. People here can be deployed but still live comfortable lives.”

  “We were quite comfortable as well.” Yoon Taeha shrugged, dismissing memories that were anything but comfortable.

  “I don’t think you remember quite right…” Yoon Mi-sook whispered, almost too quietly, trying not to reopen old wounds. He let it drop. His profession may have been the reason they were able to leave the North, but it had also been the reason for all the worry and pain his family had gone through.

  “Anyway, I’ll be living in Gwangju for the time being. I’ll visit home as much as possible.” He set his chopsticks down. “Look, I know I haven’t been the best son, having barely visited after you waited ten years for me…”

  “I’d wait another if I had to.” She grabbed his hand. “What matters to me is that you’re alive and well. I just really wish you would quit being a hunter.”

  “Should I only be a soldier then?”

  “No! Just retire altogether. Get married, have babies, do something safe for once.” Her voice rose. “How about that Kang—” Yoon Taeha’s glare cut her off.

  “Lieutenant Kang is not just someone you marry and have babies with. He’s... how to say it nicely… a pain in the ass.”

  “Aigoo… Tsk.” She clicked her tongue. “Don’t see a good man even if he’s right in front of you.”

  Yoon Taeha pressed his lips together. He did see him. More clearly than he wanted to. But clarity didn’t change the fact that their relationship was going nowhere.

  15.09.2049, Seoul, Mapo-gu, Hunter’s Association Hospital

  “I have to say, I’m not very comfortable with you going to Gwangju,” Yoon Jiyeon said while monitoring her brother’s pherowaves. Despite the evidence in front of her, she didn’t quite trust the readings yet.

  “I can’t take anyone down with my hunter qualities,” Yoon Taeha said, reclining in his chair, “but I’m more than a decent soldier, and you know that.”

  “It’s not your skills I doubt.” Yoon Jiyeon turned to him, brow furrowed. “I’m just concerned your pheromones will attract unwanted attention at the base. There will be alphas there, some dominant even. You ought to be careful.”

  “You do realize it would be a serious crime for them to attack me, right?” Yoon Taeha asked.

  “That hasn’t stopped people before.” Yoon Jiyeon exhaled sharply. “You know how alphas can be.”

  “Indeed, I do.” Yoon Taeha sighed. Even the mention of dominant alphas made his chest tighten with a familiar discomfort. Yoon Jiyeon handed him a set of strong suppressants, heavier and more concentrated than the standard issue.

  “You’ll take these daily,” she instructed, “and you’ll come here when I tell you for checkups. No excuses.”

  “I’m not a child,” Yoon Taeha muttered.

  “No, but your pheromones are too unpredictable right now.” Yoon Jiyeon returned her focus to the monitor.

  Her theory, alpha pheromones triggering Yoon Taeha’s own, shifting him from recessive to dominant, was no longer speculation. One alpha stood at the center of everything, even if she wasn’t ready to say it out loud.

  She wasn’t ready to tell her brother that Lieutenant Kang might be the reason for the change, or to deal with how he might react. There was something else worrying her too, something the data hinted at. But she needed confirmation, and for that, she would need a consultation, with Lieutenant Kang himself. The thought made her stomach twist.

  16.09.2049, Gwangju, Buk-gu, National Unified Training Center, Gwangju Base

  Yoon Taeha’s case as a soldier had been much different than for anyone else. He was a hunter, yes, but first and foremost he was a soldier. He spent most of his time at the Seoul Hunter’s Association and had barely ever visited the military base. Even in the few instances he had been there, he hardly remembered them. The gates now stood much taller than he recalled.

  He stepped forward, handing over the identification the Association had updated for him. The guard scanned it, then saluted sharply.

  “Welcome to Gwangju Base, Lieutenant!”

  The air at the military base was stiff, not only with sweat, but with the possible tears of soldiers in training. Dozens of alphas were scattered across the grounds, glaring at him as if he were a piece of meat. Typical treatment toward omega soldiers. Still, none of their pheromones were strong enough to trigger a reaction. More than anything, as Yoon Taeha looked around, he thought this might actually be a place he would enjoy.

  This is going to be fun.

  “Lieutenant Yoon?” a voice called out. Yoon Taeha turned.

  The man approaching him was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and possessed the kind of presence you’d normally only see on television. It felt like watching a scene where a firefighter walked out of a burning building in slow motion. His uniform fit almost too well, and pale scars trailed along his forearms. He was, unmistakably, a dominant alpha.

  Yoon Taeha swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how easily he had ignored everyone else’s pheromones moments before. But this man was ridiculously handsome.

  “I’m General Lee Si-woo,” the man said, offering a hand. His grip was strong, professional, yet playful. “I’ll be your commanding officer while you’re stationed here.”

  General? Yoon Taeha thought, a smile tugging at his lips. Out loud he managed only, “Yes, sir.”

  Lee Si-woo smiled in a way that could make anyone, alpha, omega, or beta, fall to their knees.

  “Relax, Lieutenant. You look like you’re about to faint. I promise I don’t bite.”

  Danger, his instincts whispered. Big danger.

  “Right,” Yoon Taeha muttered.

  “Come on,” Lee Si-woo said. “Let me show you the dorms before training starts. You’ll be staying with the instructors’ unit. It’s not much, but it’s better than the barracks. And we don’t keep curfew.” He winked.

  They walked across the courtyard, passing recruits jogging in formation. Yoon Taeha was so focused on the man’s looks that he nearly tripped. He wanted to slap himself.

  The dorm building came into view. Lee Si-woo opened the door for him.

  “This will be your room. You’ll also have access to the lounge. If anyone gives you trouble, just tell them General Lee will break their legs. That usually does the trick.”

  “Is that standard protocol?” Yoon Taeha joked.

  “For you?” Lee Si-woo shrugged. “Probably.”

  Yoon Taeha swallowed again; suppressants or not, his body reacted instinctively to the man’s dominant presence. A monitor popped up.

  Name: Lee Si-woo

  Rank: General

  Birthday: 17.09.2016

  Sex: Male

  Secondary gender: Alpha, dominant

  Height: 1.92cm

  City of birth: Sariwon

  Hunter class: E

  Qualities: N/A

  He hadn’t expected a monitor to open. Lee Si-woo looked like an ordinary, well, unbelievably handsome, ordinary soldier. But clearly there was more.

  “You’re an E-class hunter?” Yoon Taeha asked.

  “Technically,” Lee Si-woo answered, “but my qualities are unknown, and I’ve presented as E-class in the tests, so I never actually worked as one.” He shrugged. “Is that the only thing you noticed on my chart?”

  “Sariwon…” Yoon Taeha whispered under his breath. “You’re from the North?”

  “Indeed, comrade.” He winked.

  Yoon Taeha nearly forgot how to breathe. Apart from his family, it had been far too long since he had spoken with someone from the North.

  “Well,” Si-woo continued, “we’ll have time to catch up later. Welcome to Gwangju Base, Lieutenant Yoon. You’ll be working closely with me, so if you need anything, find me. And I do mean anything.”

  Danger, Yoon Taeha’s instincts repeated. Major danger. He didn’t need his telepathic skills to see the man was flirting with him. And he hadn’t even unpacked yet.

  17.9.2049-06.10.2049, Gwangju, Buk-gu, National Unified Training Center, Gwangju Base

  The weeks after the hospital visit blurred into routine. Training, missions, sleep, repeat.

  There was no time to process what becoming a dominant omega truly meant. He avoided situations that might trigger pheromone activation and avoided unnecessary interactions with dominant alphas. Until he came to Gwangju, he had never really felt the need to; his pheromones seemed to only react strongly when he was around Kang Jeonhyun. However, a new figure had entered his life like lightning from a clear sky and Lee Si-woo’s presence shook Yoon Taeha’s self-control like a storm

  It was one thing that the man was handsome. He was kind, he was an incredible soldier, but most importantly, he understood, better than anyone, where Yoon Taeha came from. Working directly under him made it impossible to avoid him, not that he really wanted to either. It wasn’t a romantic feeling he experienced around the man. It was more a comfort, a feeling of home no matter how chaotic, and it was certainly physiological.

  Despite the new attraction, Yoon Taeha did his best to stay focused on his new role, turning recruits into soldiers. Meanwhile, Kang Jeonhyun kept his distance. And yet, neither of them stopped keeping track of the other. Yoon Taeha would often find himself wondering whether it would be easier to get close to Lee Si-woo rather than Kang Jeonhyun, but logic was far from what he felt. The desire to be close to the Second Lieutenant exceeded the one toward the General by a million.

  The first days at the training center had been tough on everyone, not only on Yoon Taeha. He was introduced by his original rank, placing him at the top of the food chain immediately. The General made sure he was met with the respect he deserved, but Lee Si-woo couldn’t remain by his side constantly. Yoon Taeha’s usual carefree composure shifted immediately in the military environment that was very different from the Association and the hunter training center. It was also much lighter than the military environment back home. These people were far less serious and far from the world he had grown up in. But they were much more serious than the hunters that belonged to the Association.

  “Let them see what Northern training looks like,” Lee Si-woo told him before his first training, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

  “It might not be ideal,” Yoon Taeha replied.

  “It’s exactly what these men need!” Lee Si-woo answered with a grin. “Besides, if anyone complains, you tell them I’ve approved it.”

  He found it amusing how his soft look created rumors among the recruits. He would hear whispers about being the coma omega, his height, or the military just being short-staffed to send him there. It was funny how no one would take him seriously at first. But they would. He would make them.

  The Southern military may have heard of Northern training, but they didn’t know the half of it. Until his coma, Yoon Taeha had kept his ways quite neutral, not to strike too much fear among his peers, but he had no reason to back off now. These times were far more dangerous, and he understood that they needed their forces to be stronger. This was also what the Association expected of him, even if they were separate from the military.

  On the first day of training, as the recruits were waiting for this short omega of a lieutenant, whispering and laughing. It all came to a stop when the man’s voice dropped to the cold, clipped speech he had learned as a child soldier. It was as if the tone had frozen their spines as the recruits straightened instinctively.

  “The name is Yoon Taeha, First Lieutenant, C-class telepath hunter. Don’t let my secondary gender or my hunter rank fool you. At this moment, you’re nothing but hatchlings clinging to the mother hen. You’re not hunters, but if command orders it, the military has every right to throw you into a gate as back-up. And if a gate opened right now, half of you would be corpses before you even understood what killed you. You’re slow. Your posture is a disgrace. And most of you look one breath away from running back to your mothers to cry. In the North, you wouldn’t even make it through orientation. You’d already be packed off to a Reconstruction Camp.”

  “But we’re in the south…” someone muttered.

  “Ah, a brave one, I see,” Yoon Taeha walked closer to the man. “Tell me, do you think the beasts care if you’re from the South or the North? Do you think they give a damn whether this is the Unified Republic or China?” He leaned in, voice cutting like a knife. “No. One. Cares.” He jabbed a finger into the man’s chest. “And for fuck’s sake, fix that posture before I break it and fix it for you.”

  The general following their first day of training smiled wide every minute he saw Yoon Taeha’s behavior toward the recruits. His methods were unusual, but not for Lee Si-woo. He didn’t know whether it was nostalgia or simply happiness that there was someone besides him really beating up these little chicks.

  “I see you changed your mind about showing them the way we trained. You’re scarier than half the generals I’ve met,” Lee Si-woo told him later that day.

  “That’s because Southern training is soft.” Yoon Taeha realized his poor attempt at a Southern accent had failed him once again. It was as if being with the general was bringing back the person he used to be before coming to the South. He didn’t hate it entirely.

  They ended up spending much more time together. Lee Si-woo rarely left the base, leaving Yoon Taeha wondering whether he had family to visit. He would never talk about his private life, unless it was about his previous life in the North.

  On a rare quiet evening, the conversation drifted somewhere else entirely. They were standing outside the dorms when Lee Si-woo lit up a cigarette. He glanced at Yoon Taeha from the corner of his eye and silently held the pack out toward him. It had been ages since Yoon Taeha had touched a cigarette, yet he felt tempted. He brought one to his lips, and without warning, the general was centimeters away from his face, reaching to light it. He blushed, completely involuntarily.

  Sometimes it felt like his telepathic skills didn’t work when it came to the general. His quality was unknown, but maybe he was a shield. Maybe Yoon Taeha’s ability simply didn’t reach him.

  “Do you remember when they made you stand out in the snow for roll call?”

  “Which time?” Yoon Taeha snorted. “There were too many to count.”

  “It was like a punishment we didn’t deserve. But then again, it did make a bunch of us stronger. The others, well, they died of hypothermia or lost a toe or two to frostbite.” They both laughed, not because it was funny, but because they both understood the pain of it.

  Yoon Taeha wondered whether the general’s training had always been the same as his own. But he somehow had the feeling that Lee Si-woo had had to endure much more than he had. Still, when they had the chance to talk like this, it was as if he didn’t have to translate himself. Despite the shared trauma, it felt somewhat comfortable.

  He quickly earned the nickname of “Supreme Leader”. No one would call him that to his face, but he wasn’t unaware of it. General Lee would remind him of it constantly, telling him it suited him.

  “Please stop calling me that,” Yoon Taeha would plead.

  “No,” Si-woo would answer immediately. “In fact, I’m promoting its use.”

  Yoon Taeha somehow enjoyed the fear he had struck in these soldiers. His trainings were harsh, but never unfair, and far easier than what he had ever had to endure back home. The soldiers would cry after the physical drills: sprinting with weighted vests, crawling under barbed wire, gate breach simulations, and stress tests. These were things he had been put through already as a teenager. But these men were older and weaker, and when someone collapsed, Yoon Taeha reminded them that comfort was death.

  “Sweat saves blood,” he would tell them.

  The soldiers were relieved on the days the “Supreme Leader” wasn’t around, but no matter what they thought of him, this tiny omega did make them stronger.

  07.10.2049, Gwangju, Buk-gu, National Unified Training Center, Gwangju Base

  The Special Ops had taken the day off to visit Yoon Taeha at the training center, but it was also to take him back for the holidays. National Pledge Day fell on the next morning, and paired with a weekend, it meant a rare stretch of freedom. Unless an A- or S-class gate opened, of course.

  It had only been two months since Yoon Taeha had woken from his coma, but this was his first real holiday. The thought of spending it with his team gave him a warm feeling of comfort.

  He spotted them at the edge of the training grounds only because the recruits suddenly stood straighter, whispering urgently. He turned, and froze when he saw Kang Jeonhyun among them, arms crossed and with the annoyingly expressionless face he always wore. Something snapped inside Yoon Taeha, and a bright smile broke across his face before he could help it. The recruits flinched at the sight; they had only ever seen that smile right before hell began.

  Then, to their absolute horror, the “Supreme Leader” was leaping toward the team, as if running on a field of flowers. Some of the recruits actually rubbed their eyes, convinced it was a hallucination. Kim Jaeseong ran toward him, wrapping him in his embrace, spinning him around like they were dancing. It was almost as if The Sound of Music was playing in the background.

  Special Ops approached, amused and slightly alarmed, as Yoon Taeha excitedly recounted the morning’s training. Even the hunters paled during the explanation, and the recruits’ expressions told them more than they needed. The fragile-looking, although skilled, hunter they knew was a beast in sheep’s clothes. A devil incarnated.

  The whispers resumed in terrified awe:

  “Is this the same man??”

  “He was about to kill us 5 minutes ago…”

  “Are we being pranked?”

  “Do you think he’s bipolar?”

  “Shut up, he’ll make us crawl again.”

  Choi Yoonsun burst into laughter, pride filling his chest like a parent watching their child bully the neighbor kids. Kim Jaeseong was still holding him, clinging like an abandoned puppy, but as Kang Jeonhyun approached, Yoon Taeha instinctively slipped from his arms. The Sergeant let out a dramatic sob.

  “I can’t believe you would abandon me like this.”

  “You know where my priorities lay.” Yoon Taeha winked. Kang Jeonhyun’s ears burned red, but he forced himself to stay still with immaculate posture. Yoon Taeha gestured grandly toward him.

  “See this,” Yoon Taeha yelled at the soldiers, “This is what we call good posture.” He turned and smiled at Kang Jeonhyun like the past few weeks of avoidance had never happened. He didn’t mind pretending. He had missed him.

  Then Yoon Taeha noticed Kang Jeonhyun’s expression shift, eyes narrowing, shoulders tensing. He was looking past him. He felt something very familiar approaching before he even turned, an instinctive tightening in his chest. He followed the line of Kang Jeonhyun’s gaze; General Lee was walking toward them with that wide, dazzling smile, eager to meet the team his Lieutenant had praised so much.

  But Yoon Taeha couldn’t focus on the General anymore, sensing something from the man beside him. Kang Jeonhyun’s intent shifted in a predatory way, as if preparing himself to fight.

  Oh no. Not here. For once, Yoon Taeha was frightened.

  A burst of pheromones hit the air. Yoon Taeha’s body reacted before his mind did, heat rushing up his throat. His hand flew up to clutch at his neck, pure reflex, as if preparing for the suffocation following a pheromone burst. Panic flickered through him.

  Kang Jeonhyun saw Yoon Taeha’s flushed face, the instinctive hand at his throat, and he shut himself down so hard it looked painful. Lee Si-woo reached him first, expression tightening with concern.

  “Lieutenant, are you okay?”

  Before Yoon Taeha could answer, Kim Jaeseong stepped forward unexpectedly. “Pleasure to meet you, sir, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t place your hands on our omega so carelessly.”

  “Do not be concerned… Sergeant.” Lee Si-woo read his name tag. “I am very good at controlling my pheromones.” But while he said it, his gaze sharpened, turning to Kang Jeonhyun.

  Yoon Taeha felt the temperature drop. He didn’t dare look at either man; the hostility between them was unmistakable. Kim Jaeseong, reading the atmosphere, wrapped his arms around Yoon Taeha from behind, very naturally, pulling him back into a playful embrace. Yoon Taeha knew the one he could rely on was the one who had become his closest friend.

  “Mine.”

  Yoon Taeha chuckled softly at Kim Jaeseong, grateful. But neither dominant alpha looked amused. Lee Si-woo, however, read the room quickly, replacing his frown with his usual wide grin as he extended a hand toward Kang Jeonhyun.

  “I see you have some very good friends here. I’m looking forward to getting acquainted with you.”

  Kang Jeonhyun was not one to ignore manners, but the man irritated him in a way he couldn’t quite understand. He accepted the handshake, but his eyes stayed sharp and Lee Si-woo’s gaze never left him.

  Behind Kang Jeonhyun, the rest of the Special Ops observed the exchange with steady expressions that hid far more than they revealed, exactly what one would expect from hunters of their rank. Park Minjae’s hand twitched every time he saw Kang Jeonhyun move, knowing that every subtle shift in the Lieutenant’s muscles was born from anger. The Ryu twins exchanged a brief, wordless glance, and even Lee Hyunwoo, who was usually impossible to read, had gone still. His eyes tracked and calculated every movement between the two men. No matter what happened, they remained silent, composed, perfect.

  It was a mental battle between the two dominant alphas, and everyone around them felt it.