RACA 17

“You think we’re shooting a spy movie or something?”

No matter how thoroughly he searched, there was no way he could uncover something hidden so meticulously. The camera installed in Jaebeom’s house was minuscule and equipped with special technology that evaded detectors, even seasoned professionals found it challenging to locate.

There was no way a clumsy Omega like him could possibly find something like that.

“Honestly, he looks like a total screw-up.”

Watching him, his actions weren’t much different. Staring at the screen reminded Jaebeom of his own ridiculous cat, pretending to be the timidest creature in the world, yet the moment he sat down anywhere, it would instantly jump up and use him like a cushion.

“At least that’s cute. But this guy…?”

“CEO?”

Kwak Sang, who had been observing Jaebeom’s tongue-clicking with a puzzled look, cautiously addressed his boss. He’d been wondering what could be so serious, but it seemed he was checking the cameras installed at home again.

“Ah, tell President Kim to schedule it for next week.”

“Understood.”

The response came back bland for the wait.

“Any suspicious activity?”

“No, sir. President Kim mentioned he’s gradually moving into the mainstream, right? He said he’s shut down almost everything he was doing before.”

“Hmm… He said he was starting a production company. Looks like he’s going all in that direction?”

Gangsters couldn’t survive in modern times by relying solely on fists like in the old days. Those who understood the flow were expanding their influence beyond entertainment and gambling into construction, civil engineering, finance, and even the entertainment industry.

“Just running the club kids should let him expand his operations quickly. He seems to be bringing people in from all over to sign contracts right now.”

“President Kim’s kids?”

President Kim owned several bars and clubs in the Yeongdeungpo area. As a long-time local fixture, his businesses thrived and he held considerable capital, which had fostered a business acquaintance with Jaebeom.

Yet having witnessed President Kim’s methods of handling people, Jaebeom couldn’t help but harbor doubts. The way he treated people was so brutal that finding someone who could endure it for three years was nearly impossible.

“It’d be lucky if he doesn’t end up disrupting that whole ecosystem.”

Even though they were acquainted, Jaebeom’s assessment of President Kim’s character was scathing.

His gaze never left the monitor. Lee Eunsol had swept through the living room in a whirlwind and now moved into the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers here and there.

His search for something resembled that of a pet cat.

‘What if I put them together?’

The thought suddenly struck him. Seeing two creatures that looked alike and acted similarly sharing the same space would be quite amusing.

His own cat, with his fluffy fur, large frame, and gentle disposition, might just curl up against Lee Eunsol.

‘The look on Eunsol’s face when he climbs onto his lap would be pretty funny too, right?’

Lee Eunsol was barely over 170cm tall. But the cat he keeps is a Maine Coon, the largest breed in the world.

The image of him cradling that massive body made him chuckle. Seems it’s finally time to bring the cat home.

Jaebeom’s mind, which had never considered moving it in permanently, flipped like a palm. He’d always been impulsive, but after bringing Eunsol into his home, that tendency grew especially pronounced.

To a degree he himself didn’t even recognize.

“Kwak Sang-ah.”

“Yes, CEO.”

“Look into Lee Eunsol. Family background, upbringing, everyone around him. Ah, hospital records too. Especially anything related to his traits.”

“Yes.”

Even as he answered, Kwak Sang-ah felt puzzled. Jaebeom’s interest in the Omega was beyond his expectations.

This was the same boss who never spared a glance for the Omegas he kept around only because he needed one during rut. How else could he not even remember the gender of the person he’d spent the night rolling around with in bed?

Of course, it was said that an Alpha’s rut could make them lose their mind. But the Jaebeom he’d known for ten years was now utterly unfamiliar.

“Why?”

“Is… Is there something suspicious about Lee Eunsol?”

If so, it could mean he was preoccupied with something else. That was why he asked, but Jaebeom didn’t respond immediately.

“I’m trying to find out.”

The reply, coming after a pause, was equally vague.

“Understood. I’ll compile the report and submit it by the end of this week.”

“No, faster. Report anything you find immediately.”

Even setting aside other matters, securing hospital records wasn’t easy. It could take considerable time, but instead of saying it couldn’t be done, Kwak Sang bowed his head.

“I’ll hurry as much as possible.”

•••

“How the hell can there be no ramen in this house?”

With instant rice and canned tuna readily available, he’d assumed ramen would be stocked too. Yet after scouring every cupboard, shelf, and even the depths of the refrigerator, he came up empty-handed.

“I should’ve known, seeing how all the vegetables are organic…”

Was Pyo Jaebeom that health-conscious? As an actor, he could understand that. But he wasn’t like that now, was he?

“What a gangster.”

Grumbling wouldn’t change anything. Sighing in disappointment, Eunsol pondered for a moment. The memory of spicy noodles tingling his tongue made him realize rice alone wouldn’t cut it.

“Better than nothing! No choice. I’ll just have to make some jjigae noodles.”

Changing his plan, Eunsol pulled out the flour he’d spotted earlier while rummaging, then lined up dried anchovies, shrimp, kelp, soybean paste, red pepper paste, and soup soy sauce on the counter.

He opened the refrigerator, gathered a large handful of ingredients – radish, green onions, dried shiitake mushrooms, zucchini, onion, minced garlic, and even a handful of green chili peppers – and returned to his spot.

“Alright! Let’s get started.”

Jangkalguksu was a dish he often ate with his grandmother, so it was familiar to Eunsol. As a child, he’d simply eaten what was prepared for his, but as he grew older, he often cooked for others. Each time, his grandmother would lavish praise, declaring that if Eunsol opened a restaurant, it would be a huge success.

“Yeah. Maybe I should’ve opened a knife-cut noodle shop instead of becoming an actor.”

Recalling how the neighborhood elders said he had a knack for cooking, just like his grandmother, Eunsol wiped his nose with his index finger. The warm face that had encouraged him when he declared he’d become an actor and head to Seoul, telling his to come back anytime if it got too hard, suddenly made his nose sting for no reason.

“Alright, alright, let’s get moving. I’m starving!”

Giving himself a little pep talk , Eunsol put water on to boil in a large pot, prepared the seasoning for the knife-cut noodle soup, and began kneading the dough in earnest. The dough could have used more resting time, but hey, being able to eat noodles in a spicy broth was something to be grateful for.

“By the way, what about the ingredients?”

Even though the fridge was still full now, cooking three meals a day like this would empty it in no time.

“It’s not like it’ll restock itself.”

This isn’t some fairy tale house, after all. If it were, the cleaning would take care of itself, and meals would just magically appear.

Lost in such idle thoughts, he rolled out the well-kneaded dough with a rolling pin and cut it into bite-sized pieces. Tucking the dough between his fingers and giving it a flick, he created noodles of just the right length.

“Homemade noodles really are the best.”

He’d bought store-made noodles a few times when he was too lazy, but they never had this elasticity or density. While kneading, the broth had come to a rolling boil, so Eunsol scooped out a portion.

“This is for tomorrow’s soup.”

He tossed in the prepped vegetables first, then stirred in the seasoning paste. Watching the broth turn crimson, he submerged the noodles. The spicy aroma wafting through the air whetted his appetite.

After ensuring the noodles were cooked through, he turned off the induction cooker and ladled the knife-cut noodles into a deep bowl. Placing just that single dish on the table without any other side dishes, Eunsol picked up his chopsticks with a sense of accomplishment.

“Enjoy your meal!”

He greeted before lifting a strand of noodles. After letting the steam subside for a moment, he popped it into his mouth. A fiery warmth spread as the spiciness danced across his tongue.

It was delicious.

But why, then?

‘Something feels… lacking.’

The seasoning was spot-on, the heat perfectly balanced. It was then, as Eunsol chewed thoughtfully, that his gaze fell upon the empty seat across from his.

This was strange.

Something was definitely wrong.

‎

‎

“Heck, ouch, it’s spicy.”

Eunsol stuck out his tongue and began fanning himself vigorously with his hand. The concave bowl was filled to the brim with tteokbokki, boasting a deep, rich red color.

“Stressed out?”

He wasn’t usually one for spicy food. Having grown up with his grandmother, Eunsol preferred plain vegetable side dishes or bland staple crops.

Yet, starting with that spicy knife-cut noodle soup last time, he’d been devouring every kind of spicy dish imaginable for a whole week now.

Mornings brought bean sprout soup with chili powder, gochujang stew, or spicy squid radish soup. Evenings featured stir-fried octopus, pork bulgogi, squid and pork belly bulgogi, or fiery braised cod.

Jaebeom ate well no matter what was served, particularly loving meat dishes and preferring them spicier the better. That alone wouldn’t be a big issue, but what made Eunsol uneasy was his own state. He prided himself on being a positive person who didn’t get shaken by most things.

Yet, eating spicy food every single day had him wondering if he was finally losing his composure.