Chapter Text
Every precinct had its legend.
Some had stories of dead-eyed sharpshooters who could pick off a target in a sandstorm, others spoke in hushed awe about detectives who could solve a murder with just a grain of dust. But the 3rd Metropolitan Division had him.
Cha Eui-jae.
Omega.
And the most terrifying officer anyone had ever met.
It wasn't the kind of fear born from violence, not entirely. It wasn’t that he was particularly huge (he was barely 169 cm on a good day) or that he carried around an arsenal (though his standard-issue gun had a name, which was a red flag by any means). No, it was the way he looked at people like they were a minor inconvenience in his already doomed day. Like he was one breath away from snapping a femur and calling it “workplace stress relief.”
And today, fresh meat arrived.
“Lee Sa-young,” the officer at the front desk called, stamping something with half-bored authority. “Assignment: Special Crimes Division. You’ll be under Lieutenant Cha.”
Sa-young straightened, eager. “Cha Eui-jae? The Cha Eui-jae?”
“Yep,” the officer said, half a smirk tugging at his lips. “Good luck. Don’t piss your pants.”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Lee Sa-young had graduated top of his class at the academy. Ranked #1 in practicals. Once out-choked an alpha instructor in hand-to-hand and got away with a warning and a photo op. He was young twenty-four, cocky, and sharp as broken glass. And the idea of being assigned to the infamous Omega had ignited something foolish and competitive in him.
“Cha Eui-jae,” he repeated to himself as he stood at the edge of the squad room. “Omega or not, he’s still human. He breathes like the rest of us.”
Then he saw him.
Compact frame, messy black hair with fading roots hinting gray underneath, black cargo pants tucked into worn boots, a badge clipped on the inside of his coat like he didn’t give a damn about decorum. His sidearm was holstered backwards, because of course it was, and a silver switchblade sat snug against his thigh. His hoodie was police issue, half-zipped to show a Kevlar vest beneath. He wasn’t looking at anyone, but everyone was looking at him.
Alphas sat straighter. Betas shifted in their seats. Even Sa-young, newly minted and full of his own ego, felt it in his gut, a strange twist, like being called to the principal’s office for something he might do next week.
And then...
Their eyes met.
Eui-jae didn’t smile.
He just blinked. Once. Slow. Like a python deciding if it was hungry.
“I’m your new partner,” Sa-young said, stepping forward.
Eui-jae looked him up and down. Not in the slow, sultry way omegas were usually appraised but in a clinical, I could gut you and mop up before lunch kind of way.
Sa-young had prepared for many reactions. Dismissal. Jealousy. Maybe a backhanded compliment. What he didn’t prepare for was Eui-jae walking away without a word.
“You’re not gonna scare me,” Sa-young muttered as he followed him into the field van. “Just because everyone here thinks you’re some omega outlier doesn’t mean I will.”
Eui-jae glanced at him sideways. “You talk a lot.”
“You didn’t even say hi.”
“I don’t say hi to golden retrievers.”
Sa-young’s mouth opened. Closed. “Did you just—”
“Listen, fresh meat,” Eui-jae said, sliding into the front seat like he owned the entire department. “You’re gonna spend exactly one week wishing you were paired with literally anyone else, and then you’ll transfer or cry or both. So let’s skip the bonding arc.”
But Sa-young didn’t flinch.
Instead, he grinned. “I think I like you.”
Eui-jae turned the key in the ignition. “Everyone thinks that. Until I break their jaw.”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
There were rumors. Ugly ones.
That alphas fetishized him.
Called him “the rabid omega.” Talked in locker rooms about wanting to “tame” him. The power imbalance, the violence, the way he never went into heat thanks to suppressants strong enough to drop a horse, it made them feral. Something about seeing a “submissive type” acting dominant flipped a switch in their brains. It wasn’t admiration, it was obsession.
“I don’t get it,” Sa-young said one night over ramen, staring at the scar that ran along Eui-jae’s collarbone. “You’ve cracked a guy’s ribs, shattered another’s nose, flipped a full-grown alpha with one arm and still some of them jerk off to your personnel file.”
Eui-jae slurped his noodles. “They’re perverts. That’s the answer.”
“I’d be offended if I were you.”
“I was. Then I realized they’re more scared of me than they are turned on.”
Sa-young studied him. “Still weird though.”
Eui-jae smirked, finally. “You jealous?”
“Of their taste in freaks? Nah.”
That earned him a slow blink again. And then, unexpectedly, a dry laugh.
Sa-young didn’t want to be like the others. The ones who looked at Eui-jae and saw a puzzle or a kink or a thrill. He didn’t understand them. Couldn’t. How the hell could anyone lust after someone who looked like they were about to knife you for asking the time?
But maybe that’s what made Eui-jae magnetic. The paradox of him.
He was pretty. That was undeniable. His features were delicate but cold, like a porcelain statue carved with a scalpel. He didn’t smile much, didn’t flirt. He didn’t move the way omegas were expected to, no sway in his walk, no fluttering lashes, no submissive pheromones.
But he moved. God, he moved with purpose. Like every breath was rationed. Like survival had been a full-time job for so long that it rewired his soul.
And Sa-young… he hated how curious that made him.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Their first bust was a joint op with the Alpha Task Force. Mid-level arms dealers, most of them ex-military. The kind who puffed their chests and called omegas “sweetheart” in passing.
“Eyes on the back entrance,” Eui-jae said, slipping his comms earpiece in. “I’ll take point.”
The squad leader, a tall, broad alpha named Han, snorted. “Maybe let one of the real officers lead this time, huh, sweetheart?”
Before Sa-young could even inhale, Eui-jae struck.
One fluid motion.
Grabbed the alpha’s wrist, twisted, slammed him face-first into the hood of the van with a sound that made someone gasp.
Eui-jae leaned in close. His voice, quiet. Dangerous.
“You call me sweetheart again, and I’ll make sure you breathe through a tube.”
Then he let go. Calmly. Walked away like he hadn’t just folded a guy in front of the team.
And that was the moment Sa-young realized:
He didn’t want to tame Eui-jae.
He just wanted to survive him and he was absolutely scared of him.