By Zephyria 
The man sat on the leather sofa with his legs crossed. His body, reaching 190 centimeters, was lean and devoid of any excess fat, like a cement building constructed from hard bricks. He idly swung his polished shoes back and forth.
“Was the trip here difficult? It is quite a remote location.”
A middle-aged man dressed in modern hanbok brought out tea. He wore a ridiculous wig and silver horn-rimmed glasses. His clothes were utterly plain, but the watch on his wrist was an expensive brand worth over fifty million won. As the man sat opposite him, the man grinned, baring his teeth.
“Important business should always be conducted in remote places.”
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket and put one in his mouth.
“Give it.”
He gave a short jerk of his chin toward the back. Bear placed the apple box he had been carrying onto the sofa table with a heavy thud. The weight was enough to make the entire table shake.
“Oh, Boss… you didn’t have to. You should have come empty-handed.”
The Director’s eyes widened greedily. He even rubbed his hands together like a fly, desperate for the gift.
“What are you talking about? Coming empty-handed is rude. Especially when visiting someone doing such good work.”
The man flicked away some ash. The Director’s lips twitched for a moment as he watched the black ash fall to the floor, but he quickly erased the expression.
“Anyway….”
Setting down the teacup, he opened the conversation as if he had only just remembered the main point.
“I heard you wish to make a donation to our orphanage?”
“Yes.”
The man replied casually and rose from his chair. Holding the cigarette between his molars, he slowly paced around the study. Trophies and plaques of appreciation filled every available space, packed tight. A craving for ostentation and base desire simmered everywhere.
Of course, that was a desire the man also carried in his own heart and bosom. It was a longing that could make a person filthy, or drive them to commit filthy acts.
But beyond that, this place was utterly ordinary. It was the last place one would imagine a crab carrying drugs in its shell to be transported. He had been thinking that if he found even one brat with their eyes rolled back after swallowing an aphrodisiac, he would crush them.
Tsk, the man clicked his tongue. Things had become tedious.
“You are truly admirable; to think there are still people who seek out this kind of work in this day and age.”
The Director followed and stood beside the man.
“To be honest, I was a bit surprised when I first met you.”
“Why?”
The man asked lowly. His eyes, looking down at the Director who was significantly smaller than him, were utterly devoid of emotion.
“Do I look like a gangster to you?”
“O-oh, no…! It’s just that you are so tall and handsome, like a celebrity.”
He then let out an awkward, “Ahaha” laugh. The man curled one side of his lip and closed the distance between them.
“Because of my size, I’m often misunderstood as a thug who beats people up, but I, Kang Pyeong-won, am not that kind of person.”
The gray smoke from the cigarette curled upward and ascended.
“I also do a lot of good work, just like you, Director. I clear out the trash in society and bury it.”
The Director slightly turned his head, seemingly displeased by the smoke, but the man deliberately pressed closer to him. He exhaled a thick, acrid cloud of smoke.
“Sometimes, I even burn it away.”
For a moment, a chilling silence fell over the director’s office. At the strangely phrased words, the Director swallowed hard, his throat dry.
“Pardon…? What do you mean by that?”
Sweat trickled down from beneath the Director’s wig. A fishy scent brushed the tip of the man’s nose. The man, who possessed a keen sense of aesthetics, was sensitive to scents and loathed filth, became quite displeased. His smile cooled instantly.
“Ah, of course, it is a very necessary task.”
Soon, the Director burst into a forced, hearty laugh with a pathetic expression. The 180-degree shift in attitude was simply laughable. When the man first visited the orphanage, the Director had been pale and dismissive, yet at the mere mention of a donation, he was acting as if he would suck the man’s cock.
Come to think of it. Recalling his cock brought back the memory of the hole he had spent the dawn hours thrusting into and stuffing. The scent of pure water-flowers spread through his memory.
“The view of the office is killer.”
The man suppressed his lust and licked his lips. As he shifted his gaze, something caught his eye.
“Do you play golf?”
A golf club was leaning diagonally against one side of the wall. The man picked up the club and gripped it in his hand.
“No, golf? Not at all. My back isn’t very good.”
The Director waved his hands quickly. Perhaps thinking it didn’t fit his public image of being frugal, he hurried to make an excuse.
“I’m too old to exercise. A grateful acquaintance gave it to me as a gift a long time ago; I refused everything, but they just left it and went.”
“I see.” The man smiled. As he took a perfect swing posture with the club, the Director spoke up again.
“Do you enjoy golf, Boss?”
Whoosh—! As the man swiftly rotated his waist, the jacket fitting smoothly against his back fluttered. This, too, was a perfect, streamlined movement.
“I don’t. Shouldn’t a man move his body and break a sweat? This kind of prim-and-proper sport doesn’t suit me.”
As he spoke, something entered the man’s sight. There was something reddish smeared on the head of the golf club. It was a mark that was impossible to miss. Blood. And it was fresh blood, not more than a few days old.
Things are getting interesting, shitty bastard. It was almost funny. An orphanage director beating people up—how is this any different from a gangster? It was truly absurd.
The man snapped his gaze away, and something caught his eye. A large frame was hanging on the wall.
“The child is quite cute.”
At the sudden remark, a look of confusion crossed the Director’s face. The man chuckled and tapped the frame with his middle finger. It contained a photo of children standing together. He pointed to one of them.
“Here, the one with the pale face.”
As soon as he mentioned the pale-faced child, the Director recognized him immediately. The man stood there, leaning on the golf club.
“That’s a child I raised almost like my own grandson. I fed him because he was pretty, changed his dirty diapers, carried him on my back—tsk.”
The man smiled, asking if that was so, and remarked that he was indeed a great man.
“At first, the child was undisciplined. He would wail all night and pee in his pants.”
“Ah,” the man sighed softly. As he played along, the Director clasped his hands as if reminiscing about the past.
“So I raised him with a bit of discipline. Now, the child is very docile. Whatever I tell him to do, he just says ‘yes, yes’ and obeys adults blindly.”
The man took another deep drag from the filter.
“If he had been born an Omega, people would have been fighting over to take him, but he turned out to be a Beta.”
The Director whispered as if sharing a secret. The man exaggeratedly raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so? That’s strange.”
He tilted his head slightly. For a Beta, his bottom got fucking wet, like a flood… He looked down at his own fingers.
The hole had been so damp that his fingers had wrinkled. Feeling a sense of regret for his now plump fingers, the man subtly rubbed his nose. He felt as if the sweet scent of water-flowers still lingered, or perhaps it was just his imagination.
“Originally, I intended to marry him off to someone distinguished.”
“Ah, is that so,” the man murmured tonelessly. He rubbed his eyebrow with a middle finger that wouldn’t bend properly.
“Chairman Go—he is famous for being the most virtuous person in this neighborhood.”
“…….”
“Every time he visited, he praised our Eun-myeong for being cute and pretty, like a grandson, and for being docile and kind.”
The Director then pointed to another frame with pride.
“Oh, here he is.”
The man’s eyes were drawn in. An old man was receiving a certificate of commendation.
Ha, he said he was in his 70s, but what nonsense. He looked well into his 80s. He was an old man whose hair had all fallen out from age and whose back was hunched like a hunchback. He was shorter than Eun-myeong, and his face was all wrinkled like a sea squirt, but his eyes were alive, glistening with lust.
“Hmm.”
The man laughed lowly. However, a pillar of fire was coiling in his lower abdomen. The man ground his molars with a grating sound. As anger began to decorate his mind, his thoughts assembled slowly.
Where did this rage come from? The Director’s shitty appearance? His pathetic way of speaking? The tasteless tea?
…Ah, no.
It was because this bastard was the very person who had told him to shove that Omega estrus inducer into the crab shell. Wasn’t that the reason the man had come all the way down to this dog-like countryside to slave away?
Shitty bastards, these dog-like moron alphas can’t even get a single cock-head up…
Realizing the atmosphere around the man was unusual, the Director began to read the room and offered a compliment.
“By the way, President Kang, since you are so tall and have such broad shoulders, if you tried golf, women would line up for you.”
The man tightened his grip firmly.
“I suppose I should play it occasionally when dealing with customers.”
Just like now. Murmuring lowly, the man braced his thighs and whipped his waist in a swing. The head of the golf club smashed the display cabinet to pieces. The innocent glass shattered mercilessly, turning into thousands of shards.
Amidst the flying debris, he saw the Director’s eyes, stained with horror.
“W-what is the meaning of this…!”