Chapter Text
Against all odds, he was absolutely certain that this time he would win. Surely, a day couldn’t be that bad, right? The morning had started with a thick gray sky and rain that seemed to come from all directions at once. But he could handle that—it was just weather, after all. Then, as if the universe had decided it wasn’t done with him yet, he discovered a black mold patch creeping up the bathroom wall, a sinister spot he hadn’t noticed before. The air in that room felt damp and thick with mildew, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been there, quietly growing.
But it was the email that truly knocked him off balance. It was from his lawyer, informing him that the court had made its decision and there was no way in hell he’d be granted custody of Ga-yeong. That Eun-ji –his ex wife- had won and she didn't want him near their child until he 'healed all of his problems'. It was the final blow to a dream he’d been holding onto, fragile and unrealistic as it had been. The Alpha wasn’t sure whether to cry or scream. Instead, he just sat there, staring at the screen, trying to process the weight of the message.
Desperation settled in. When you’ve reached the bottom, there's only one place left to go—further down. He’d convinced himself this wasn’t the end, though. Maybe the races would be his escape. He could win big. Maybe that’s what he needed: just a little luck, a little windfall, and everything would turn around. He couldn’t remember when he’d first started believing in that kind of luck, but now he clung to it as though it were his lifeline.
He turned to his last remaining asset: the money he had saved for food for the month and he borrowed more money from the loan sharks. It wasn’t much, but in his mind, it was nothing compared to what he stood to gain. He researched the horses, tracking their performances, reading through tips, scanning for something that felt like the right pick. His eyes fell on one in particular, a lean, lighter horse with the kind of speed that seemed almost impossible. "This is it," he thought. "This is the one that will turn everything around."
He placed his bet with trembling hands, the last of his money now riding on this single, desperate chance. "It’s not that much," he told himself. "If I win, I can fix everything. If I win, I’ll get Ga-yeong back. If I win, I won’t have to worry about food or lawyers or mold or debt collectors."
The horses lined up, their bodies sleek and powerful, muscles rippling beneath their coats. His pulse thudded in his ears, a steady beat that matched the rhythm of the pounding hooves as the race began. For a moment, he felt a flicker of hope, but it quickly faded. The horse he'd bet on, the lighter one, was falling behind. His breath hitched with each stride, each second slipping through his fingers like sand. By the final stretch, it was clear—it wasn’t going to happen. His horse crossed the line in second, its nostrils flaring in exhaustion, just a fraction of a second too late. The gut punch came instantly. It was the kind of loss that stung the most—the one where you could almost taste victory, but it disappeared in an instant, just out of reach.
Once again, he was left with nothing—no money, no hope, no way out.
His remaining 10,000 won felt like a cruel joke, barely enough to buy a meal, let alone fix the mess he’d created. With his pockets empty and his spirit shattered, he shuffled into a nearby convenience store, the fluorescent lights harsh and indifferent. He grabbed a bottle of Soju from the shelf, the cold glass almost comforting in his hand. He didn’t even care about the taste. The numbness was the goal. The elderly Omega woman at the register gave him a long, appraising look. She was used to seeing men like him—distant, lost in some private misery—and with a soft sigh, she slid a small strawberry snack cake across the counter with his purchase.
“It’s on the house,” she said, her voice warm but tinged with pity.
He was too tired to protest. With a slight bow, he took the cake and left, the city streets outside feeling cold and indifferent, as if they were conspiring with his despair. He tore open the package, his fingers shaking as he bit into the small cake. It was dry, but it was food. The first real food he’d had all day. He chewed mechanically, his mind numb, his thoughts distant, lost in the noise of the city.
Gangnam loomed ahead—its towering buildings, its sleek cars, the bright lights that never seemed to dim. He looked at it all like it was a world away, a place he’d never belong, not in his current state, not with the way things were going. The restaurants, the designer stores, the high-rise apartments were as unreachable as the stars. His clothes were shabby, his face drawn and tired, dirty and unshaved, and as he walked through the streets, he couldn’t ignore the stares. People glanced at him, their eyes lingering, a mixture of confusion, judgment, and a hint of fear. He had to look like a ghost—thin, disheveled, or like a homeless man, entirely out of place in this polished, affluent part of the city.
The Soju burned its way down his throat, a fleeting distraction from the hollow ache in his chest. He polished off half the bottle with reckless abandon, the liquor's fire momentarily numbing the pain. As he walked, his feet seemed to move of their own accord, carrying him through the city without purpose or direction. Before he knew it, he'd crossed into Itaewon, the neighborhood's eclectic charm and worn edges a familiar yet unwanted companion. The emptiness that had been gnawing at him for so long only deepened as he walked, the city's lights glinting off the wet pavement like a cruel mockery.
Each step echoed through his mind like a death knell, underscoring the silence that was slowly consuming him. When the Soju bottle finally emptied, Gi-hun felt a desperate pang of despair wash over him. The alleyway seemed to stretch on forever, its narrow confines closing in around him like a trap. His drunken haze made him slow to react as footsteps approached from behind. A hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his terrified scream as a powerful punch to his abdomen left him gasping for air.
His vision blurred at the edges as he realized who had caught up with him – the men he owed 160 million won to, the criminal and feared organization named Danggeom. Gi-hun knew all too well that they wouldn't hesitate to hurt him; they'd already given him more time than they needed to. But he didn't have the money – not even half of it – and now, as he struggled to breathe and think through his fear-soaked haze, Gi-hun couldn't shake the feeling that this time would be different.
The men dragged him deeper into the alleyway, their grip on his arms and legs like iron shackles. Gi-hun tried to struggle and kick out, but his drunk-soaked muscles were no match for their brute strength. A black van screeched to a halt beside them, its sliding door opening with a metallic screech. The men tossed Gi-hun inside like a sack of potatoes, slamming the door shut behind him.
As the van careened through Seoul's streets, Gi-hun lay helpless on its metal floor. His head spun from drink and fear; every turn threatened to make him vomit up what little was left in his stomach.
One of them pulled him up by his hair, slamming him against the side of the van. "You think you can just ignore us?" the man, a Beta, snarled, his breath hot against Gi-hun's face. "You think you can just pretend we don't exist?"
Gi-hun tried to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but his words were cut off by another punch to his stomach. He doubled over in agony as the men continued to beat him. They took turns hitting him, each blow landing with precision and cruelty.
"We know everything about your ex-wife, Kang Eun-ji, an Omega so fragile and delicate. And your daughter... oh, she's a precious little thing, isn't she? So young and innocent, she hadn't presented yet, that's sure to make her a prized possession on the black market." He paused, letting the words hang in the air like a guillotine's blade. "You should be grateful we're willing to let you work off your debt instead of selling her to the highest bidder... for now."
Gi-hun's eyes burned with a fury that threatened to consume him whole as the man's words cut through him like a scalpel. The thought of his loved ones being exploited, abused, and sold into slavery was a living nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. He growled low in his throat, releasing a surge of angry pheromones into the air, but it only seemed to amuse the men around him.
One of them sneered at Gi-hun, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're just a pathetic Alpha, thinking you can intimidate us with your little growl. You're nothing but a broken shell of a man, drowning in debt and desperation. You'll do anything to protect them... won't you?" The leader of the group chuckled along with his cohorts, their laughter echoing through the room like the jeers of demons in hell.
The Beta leader's smile contorted into a macabre grin, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he took a step closer to Gi-hun. "You owe us 160 million won, and we want it back... every last won. Your miserable job and pathetic attempts at gambling won't even scratch the surface of your debt." His voice dripped with disdain, each word a calculated insult designed to strip Gi-hun of his dignity. He leaned in, his cold, rank breath washing over Gi-hun's face like a fetid wave. "But we'll give you a choice: become one of our 'soldiers', a loyal dog who does our bidding..."
As the Beta words hung in the air, the darkness seemed to coalesce around Gi-hun, suffocating him with its crushing weight. He felt his soul being slowly extinguished, his identity reduced to nothing more than a mere commodity to be bought and sold. The realization dawned on him that he had no choice but to surrender to their demands, to sacrifice his freedom and humanity in exchange for the safety of his loved ones. He would become a slave, a mere possession for them to use and discard at their whim.
"I'll do anything," Gi-hun whispered, the words tumbling out of his mouth like a desperate prayer, a surrender to the darkness that had consumed him. His voice was barely audible, but it was enough to seal his fate.
The Beta leader's grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he nodded in acceptance. "Good choice," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You'll make a fine addition to our team."
He no longer had control over his own life.
Now, he was nothing more than another pawn in Danggeom's criminal game.
The same night of his recruitment, they dragged him further away from Seoul, taking him to an old, decaying factory on the outskirts. The building stood silent, its crumbling walls and dirty windows a stark reminder of the power that Danggeom held—power that swallowed up anyone unlucky enough to be caught in its grip. The others recruits were already asleep in their respective rooms. In the dim light, the leader of the faction, an imposing Alpha named Gim Myung, greeted him with a cold, calculating stare. Myung’s presence was as overwhelming as it was unsettling, and it made him feel smaller than ever. He had only been given a brief explanation: he'd undergo training, not just to become one of them, but to prove his unwavering loyalty.
The exhaustion in his body was palpable, every inch of him aching from the brutal beating he'd received a few hours ago. His face was swollen, his skin raw and bruised, and his ribs ached with every shallow breath. Despite the pain, he was forced to endure a cold, stinging shower, the freezing water doing little to ease the tension in his muscles. They handed him a set of clean clothes, but the fabric did nothing to mask the way his body trembled, both from the cold and the uncertainty of what was to come.
He lay on the hard, ancient bed that night, sleep eluding him as anxiety gnawed at his mind. The thought of the coming days filled him with dread: the brutality that awaited him, and the uncertainty of his future held captive by Danggeom's grasp.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook him and he slipped into a restless sleep, dreaming of 410 million won – the overwhelming sum of his debt to both the bank and Danggeom – interspersed with fleeting images of his daughter's smile and the hope of a respectable job.
His sleep was short-lived, as the piercing sound of a whistle cut through the air, jolting him awake. The shrill noise was eerily familiar, reminiscent of his obligatory military service when he was younger. The memories came flooding back - the rigid discipline, the endless drills. He lay in bed for a moment, disoriented and groggy, as the whistle's echo faded away.
As he slowly sat up, his body protested with a chorus of aches and pains. The small and humid room that had been granted to him felt suffocating, with walls that seemed to close in on him like a vise. The air was thick with moisture and stale sweat. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.
The knock on his door made him wince in pain as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His whole body still hurt from the beating. He struggled to stand up from the uncomfortable bed.
"Hey! New guy! Don't keep us waiting! Move your ass or...!" A voice barked from outside his door but stopped abruptly when it swung open.
In the doorway stood an Alpha male whose scent was unmistakably familiar to Gi-hun – rusted iron, cedarwood and shampoo. It reminded him of whole days playing on the park at school, and whole nights getting drunk and losing money on bets.
Their eyes met in surprise as both men registered each other’s faces and scents.
"Gi-hun!?" The other Alpha exclaimed incredulous.
Gi-hun stared back equally perplexed "Jun-Bae," Gi-hun's eyes narrowed, his face twisting in a mix of anger and desperation as he took a step closer to the other Alpha. "What are you doing here, Jun-Bae? How did you...?" His voice trailed off, and he couldn't help but think about the cruel fate that had brought his best friend to this place.
Jun-Bae's expression changed from surprise to nervousness, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape or a way to deflect Gi-hun's questions. "Gi-hun, I...we can't talk now. We have to get going. The supervisor will be furious if we're late for the drills."
"What do you mean? How did you end up here? Did they threaten you too? Did they take something from you?" The questions poured out of him like a torrent, each one laced with a growing sense of desperation and frustration.
Jun-Bae winced, "Gi-hun, please...not now. We'll talk later, I promise. But we have to go. Now." His voice was low and urgent, filled with a warning that Gi-hun couldn't quite decipher.
Gi-hun's eyes blazed with anger and helplessness as he realized that Jun-Bae was trapped in this organization just like him. The thought sent a wave of fury coursing through his veins, and he wanted to lash out at something or someone - but most of all, he wanted answers.
The sound of footsteps echoed outside the room as more people began stirring, getting ready for the day's drills. It will be a long day.
Gim Myung was ruthless, the Alpha's cold demeanor and lack of empathy apparent in every action. He didn't bother to learn the trainees' names, instead labeling them by numbers as if they were mere objects. To him, their exhausted faces were irrelevant. He just needed results—efficient and willing to die for Danggeom's purpose. Enough to make him rise among the ranks, enough to lure the second in command, Hwang In-ho, who each day seemed more unimpressed by the Alpha's attempts to seduce him.
Despite this, he kept trying. It wasn't his fault that his superior was so good-looking, it wasn't his fault the way In-ho seemed to gaze at him sometimes. Gim Myung was certain that Hwang In-ho desired him to a certain degree. And it was enough for him, killing two birds with one stone: getting his superior in his bed and gaining his favor, perhaps even becoming second in command once the old man, Oh Il-man, the founder and boss of Danggeom, died and In-ho inevitably became the new boss.
So he kept pushing the recruits, especially the new one, 456. He was a scrawny Alpha, with barely enough strength to keep up with the training: endless laps, relentless drills, and exhausting running sessions. The trainees were pushed to their limits. On top of that, they learned basic self-defense tactics and the proper use of weapons.
As the day passed, Gi-hun found himself alone in the hall during lunch. The food wasn't the best, but it was far better than starving. He poked at his meal absentmindedly, lost in thought, when he noticed Jun-Bae waving at him from across the hall. Jun-Bae gestured for Gi-hun to join him at his table, where he was sitting with another young man.
Curious and grateful for the company, Gi-hun made his way over. As he approached, he took in the new guy's appearance. The younger male looked fresh-faced and nervous, and Gi-hun could barely detect any pheromones from him, leading him to conclude that the young man must be a Beta.
"Gi-hun, I want you to meet Dae-ho," Jun-Bae said enthusiastically, clapping a hand on the Beta's shoulder. "Let's take care of each other, shall we?"
Dae-ho, the young Beta, stared at Gi-hun with wide eyes, nodding slightly and offering a polite smile. He seemed like a good person, and Gi-hun wondered what had led him to this place.
As they settled into their seats, Gi-hun couldn't help but notice how out of place Dae-ho seemed. His demeanor was quiet and unassuming, a stark contrast to the hardened individuals who filled the hall. Gi-hun decided to strike up a conversation, hoping to learn more about why his best friend and the young Beta ended up in this situation.
"So, Jun-Bae, why are you here?" Gi-hun asked, eating some of the rice.
"I... I got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Messed up big in horse racing, you know? Even my wife left me... And I'm incapable of paying off my debt," Jun-Bae admitted, his voice tinged with regret.
Gi-hun nodded, empathizing with his friend's predicament. "It's tough out there. But we'll figure something out."
Dae-ho, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "I'm here because I had no choice. My family... they're relying on me. I can't let them down, not after I made them lose everything."
The three of them continued to chat as they ate, sharing stories and getting to know each other better. Gi-hun could see that Dae-ho was indeed a good guy, just in need of some guidance and support. As they finished their meal and prepared to head back to their drills, Gi-hun felt a renewed sense of determination. They were in this together, and they would take care of each other, just as Jun-Bae had said.
"Let's stick together," Gi-hun said firmly. "We need to, if we want to survive this hell."
Jung-bae nodded in agreement. "Absolutely." He looked around the room, where everyone seemed immersed in their own conversations. Lowering his voice, he added, "Gi-hun, have you heard about the boss Hwang In-ho?"
"Hwang In-ho?" Gi-hun's curiosity was piqued.
"Yeah," Dae-ho leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "He's the second in command of the organization. A very scary Alpha. Many expect him to take charge once Oh Il-man dies."
With an eyebrow raised, Gi-hun noticed Gim Myung smoking outside from one of the windows. He had been a nuisance earlier, pushing him to the limit more than the rest. The smoke curled around Gim Myung's face, giving him an almost sinister appearance.
"And what about Gim Myung?" he asked, a certain bitterness in his voice.
Dae-ho snorted. "Oh, Gim Myung is always behind Hwang, drooling at his feet like a loyal puppy. It's almost pathetic. I swear, I saw him flinch and get on his knees at Hwang's presence once."
Jun-Bae couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, for them, it's all about power and control. Gim Myung would do anything to stay on Hwang's good side."
Hwang's good side? Was the Alpha that bad? Gi-hun decided he didn't want to encounter him ever. He tried to imagine how In-ho would look like: imposing, incredibly tall, with broad and strong shoulders, intoxicating and dominating pheromones that even made another Alpha submit, masculine features, with scars on his face highlighting how dangerous he was.
The mere thought of encountering such a presence sent a shiver down Gi-hun's spine, making him all the more determined to avoid In-ho at all costs.
"Anyways, he barely comes now, perhaps he's too busy handling business," Dae-ho concluded, making Gi-hun relax unconsciously. The tension in his shoulders eased, but the lingering image of In-ho's intimidating presence remained etched in his mind.
Now, as he stared at the food on his tray, he couldn't help but wonder if Ga-yeong was alright. He'd just have to keep strong for her.