Jiwoo's thoughts were a tangled mess. Every angle, every plan, every possible way to break into the store ran through his head—and every single one ended in failure. Any noise could draw monsters. Any wrong move could get him killed. Hunger gnawed at him relentlessly, sharp and unforgiving, but there was no safe solution.
He was about to turn away in frustration when a sudden, loud echo rang out from further down the street.
Metal clashed. Inhuman roars tore through the night—and then stopped abruptly.
Curiosity and caution warred within him. Heart pounding, Jiwoo crept toward the sound, crouching low behind overturned trash bins and broken cars. Peering around a corner, his breath caught in his throat.
A man stood bathed in the crimson glow of a blood moon. Jet-black hair shimmered like silk, falling past broad shoulders. His dark red eyes glinted with a predatory intensity. Around him, monsters fell one by one, each strike of his blade precise, swift, merciless.
Lee Kibong.
An alpha. The male lead. The seme of the novel.
Jiwoo froze behind the car, utterly captivated. His heart hammered, his mind briefly blank. Woah…
That moment of distraction cost him.
A strong hand shot out, seizing him by the neck and lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The world spun as air was squeezed from his lungs.
A deep, commanding voice rumbled through the street.
"Who are you?"
Jiwoo's eyes went wide. "I—I'm not an enemy!" he gasped, struggling against the crushing grip. Panic clawed at him. He had to get away before this man decided he was a threat.
Kibong's fingers tightened, and for a moment, Jiwoo thought he was done for. Then the grip suddenly stilled.
The alpha's eyes flickered, nostrils flaring as he drew in a slow breath. The faint, sweet scent clinging to Jiwoo reached him—sharp, unfamiliar, yet impossible to ignore. His instincts flared, demanding attention.
The grip loosened.
Jiwoo didn't hesitate. As soon as he could move, he shoved himself free, stumbling backward before breaking into a sprint. His legs pumped furiously, carrying him down the ruined street as fast as they could. Behind him, the sound of his own ragged breathing mingled with the distant shouts of monsters still falling under Kibong's blade.
Kibong remained motionless, caught in the haze of that unfamiliar scent. His crimson eyes scanned the dark street, searching, but Jiwoo was already too far away. By the time the alpha regained focus, the small figure of the omega had vanished into the shadows.
Jiwoo's heart thundered in his chest. He risked a glance over his shoulder—Kibong's silhouette was still there, unmoving, his presence almost commanding the street itself. A strange mixture of relief and fear coursed through Jiwoo.
He had survived—for now.
But he knew one thing for certain: he couldn't stay in this area. Not with Kibong nearby, not with the monsters prowling, not with the city itself turning against him. Survival meant moving, hiding, thinking fast… and staying just far enough away from the male lead to avoid becoming a footnote in someone else's story.
Jiwoo's fingers tightened around his makeshift weapon. One step at a time. One breath at a time.
He sprinted on, shadows stretching before him, the blood-red moon watching silently from above.