ATGRA 5

Our first meeting was when I was twenty years old. Back then, Jung Pureum was just a fifth-grader in elementary school.

Having just entered university, I was going through a tougher time than during my days as an examinee. Moving out from my parents’ home was fine and all, but living alone wasn’t as glamorous as I’d thought.

Who knew feeding myself would be such a hassle? How did my parents manage to feed and house a kid like me all those years?

I’m still terrible at cooking now, but back then, it was even worse. Regularly burning kitchen utensils was the least of it—I once ended up in an ambulance after eating something I made.

I was good at studying but utterly hopeless at housekeeping. I wanted to be someone who excelled at everything, but my character creation must have misallocated points, leaving my domestic skills near zero.

Still, I couldn’t crawl back home just because I couldn’t live alone. I had barely convinced my parents, who opposed me living alone because I’m an Omega, so going back would mean never getting to be independent again.

Even if being a “kangaroo” living with parents is trendy, as an adult, I should be able to take care of myself. Relying on my family again was something my pride wouldn’t allow.

While I was stubbornly surviving my independent life, the next-door mom spoke to me. It was the day after I blew up the kitchen for the seventh time.

Other than exchanging rice cakes on moving day, we’d never spoken, so a neighbor striking up a conversation was surprising.

It was something to be wary of, but I ended up following her to their place. The offer of a proper dinner was too sweet to refuse. We’re all just trying to survive, right? I had to live too.

And there was Jung Pureum. The young, adorable Jung Pureum followed me like a real older brother from the moment we met. To be precise, he quickly got over his shyness and started acting friendly toward me.

Compared to the blunt or irritable personalities of the next-door mom and Jung Saebom, Jung Pureum was incredibly polite and cute. It was hard to believe he was a sports kid—he was affectionate and quick-witted. Well, with two Alpha women wielding power at home, anyone would learn to tread carefully.

After being treated to a proper dinner that day, I started interacting with the next-door family like they were actual relatives. In a modern society where people often don’t know their neighbors, this was quite unusual.

Once I started visiting them, I managed to live somewhat decently.

I saw the next-door mom more often than my own, and I frequently sat at the table with the two siblings. In return for the dinners they fed me, I sometimes looked after young Jung Saebom or Jung Pureum. Thanks to them, I wasn’t lonely despite living alone these past few years.

If you think about it, the next-door mom was practically a benefactor. She wasn’t as sweet as Jung Pureum, but she truly treated me like family.

So, Jung Saebom and Jung Pureum were like siblings to me. I’d seen them in their school uniforms since they were kids, so it was hard to treat them as strangers. We weren’t blood-related, but they were almost family.

[After training, I’ll come right over.]

Jung Pureum’s reply came below my meaningless emoji.

You can tell just from this, but Jung Pureum was kind to everyone. Polite to adults, friendly to peers—a rare, upstanding young man these days.

Thanks to him, I survived my toughest university days. Whenever I was struggling, Jung Pureum would notice like a ghost and always be there for me.

Thinking I couldn’t even properly treat such a guy to beef made my heart feel empty. At the very least, I had to make him an amazing Gongjindan.

Do you know when it’s toughest to be an Omega? It’s when your heat cycle hits, and you’re self-employed.

Ms. Kim Miyoung, the only nurse at our clinic, ran the place for the past three days in my absence. A clinic without its doctor is like takoyaki without octopus or red bean buns without filling. It was only possible because we had hardly any patients.

Most of my patients weren’t new but regular Omegas who specifically sought me out because they felt safe with an Omega doctor.

“Everything okay while I was gone?”

At my question, Ms. Kim Miyoung, who was filing her nails at the reception desk, slowly looked up.

Introduced by my grandfather, Ms. Kim Miyoung was a veteran nurse who’d mastered everything from reception to pharmaceuticals across various clinics.

My grandfather said she’d worked at his clinic for years, so her experience rivaled that of a specialist doctor. In her fifties, she wasn’t someone I could treat lightly, even as her employer.

Ms. Kim Miyoung stopped filing her nails and let out a deep sigh, muttering that there’d be no issues without customers.

“I don’t want to say this while you’re trying so hard, but I’m worried about whether you can pay my salary like this.”

“I’ll never miss a paycheck. Don’t worry.”

“With only a few Omega patients, we’re on the verge of bankruptcy. You know Wonhee Clinic nearby? Their young nurses were betting on when we’d go under.”

“What do those guys, who only sell diet pills and barely treat patients, know to say that?”

“Don’t talk like that, doctor. Diet pills make a lot of money.”

“…”

That’s true.

While flies buzzed around our clinic, Wonhee Clinic on the third floor across the street was packed. You couldn’t get an appointment without booking a month in advance.

These days, not all clinics are the same. Each has its specialty, and Wonhee Clinic’s was “dieting.” Their diet pills were even verified by the Korea Food and Drug Administration and patented.

Losing weight is fine, but delaying heat cycles isn’t? I trembled with rage at the world’s injustice again today.

To make matters worse, Baek Wonhee, the head of Wonhee Clinic, was my sworn enemy. Instead of helping a fellow university classmate, he opened a clinic nearby and spread rumors that the doctor here is a recessive Omega.

As I unconsciously bit my nails, burning with vengeful resolve, Ms. Kim Miyoung patted my back.

“It’s not easy for Omegas to be self-employed. That heat cycle thing—when it hits, you lose days each month. Even with your medicine and acupuncture, it doesn’t help much, does it?”

“…”

“I’ve got years of experience and plenty of job offers, so I’ll be fine if this place goes under. But you’ve got a bright future—shouldn’t you think it over? In business, you cut losses when you feel it’s going south.”

Ms. Kim Miyoung’s words were right a hundred times over. The wisdom of middle age is undeniable.

But I couldn’t fully agree. My head might, but my pride fiercely resisted.

Since there were no patients, I might as well make expensive Gongjindan to sell.

If the guy across the street is making money with diet pills, I’ll sell pricey Gongjindan to students nearing their exams. While I’m at it, I’ll make some for Jung Pureum too.

Pretending not to care about my burning frustration, I holed up in my office. Staying in the director’s room would only let Ms. Kim Miyoung come and go, grating on my nerves.

Honestly, I wasn’t in my right mind at this point. It was shortly after my heat cycle, and I was consumed by vengeance and ambition.

So, I ended up making it.

That… Gongjindan (攻進丹).

“Ugh, heh, hahaha!”

Perfect. I sounded a bit like a deranged mad scientist just now.

As if I hadn’t just laughed like a lunatic, I calmly packaged the Gongjindan. This one was meant for Jung Pureum, as promised.

I made it in a bit of a daze, so I don’t exactly remember how I did it. So, I couldn’t sell it.

I thought I’d messed up the formulation, but the Gongjindan turned out perfectly. As expected, a winner always wins. I’m a heaven-sent genius oriental medicine doctor.

When I came out of the office, Ms. Kim Miyoung was dozing at the reception desk, chin in hand. Today’s only patient was an Omega who got acupuncture to delay their heat cycle.

Well, one is better than none. Treating even a single patient with utmost care is a doctor’s duty.

So, I holed up in my office, praying to the Omega god.

Please make Baek Wonhee’s clinic go bankrupt. Omega god, life is so unfair. Make our clinic insanely successful. Let only me succeed.

Of course, there was no response to my prayer. If a god answered such selfish prayers, they wouldn’t be a proper god.

Besides, I’m not religious, and the Omega god doesn’t even exist. If it did, it’d probably be a cult. I’d have better luck praying to major gods like Jesus, Buddha, or Allah.

Afterward, I woke Ms. Kim Miyoung, sent her home early, and stood alone in the dark, empty clinic.

After the resentment and anger passed, emptiness filled me, with a touch of injustice.

Honestly, I still couldn’t understand why I had to fail just because I’m an Omega. I’m smart, capable, well-supported, and confident.

But to fail just because I’m an Omega? That’s absolutely ridiculous.

Even though I’m not soft-hearted, I felt like crying. To be precise, not from sadness but from rage.

May all discriminators go to ruin. May they run to the subway platform only for the doors to close in their face, or line up for hotteok just to have the batter run out right before their turn.

“Hyung?”

Just then, a clear chime rang from the bell above the door. While I was cursing discriminators, Jung Pureum had walked into the clinic. I nearly embarrassed myself big time.

“Are you crying?”

“No. Do I look like someone who cries?”

“For someone who’s not, your eyes are pretty red.”

“It’s allergies.”

“…”

“Don’t you trust hyung? I’ve had this dust allergy that pops up only when needed since forever.”

“…”

Jung Pureum just shut his mouth at my excuse. The timing was awful. Why walk in when I’m getting emotional…

As if reading my thoughts, Jung Pureum reached out and rubbed around my eyes. When his warm hand touched me, I really felt like crying.

I instinctively took half a step back.