Cozy Obsession

In this world, Omegas—especially Prime Omegas—were as rare as endangered animals.

A Prime Alpha could not be born from a female Beta. Furthermore, if the chances of a female Alpha giving birth to a Prime Alpha were one in a thousand, then the probability of a Prime Omega producing a Prime Alpha was an astonishing one in ten.

Thus, Alphas who wielded wealth and power would stop at nothing to acquire Prime Omegas for their own gain.

The problem was that in the process, illegal breeding and trafficking were carried out without hesitation, driving Prime Omegas to the brink. As a result, the total Omega population dwindled, and the already minuscule number of male Prime Omegas plummeted to near extinction, raising their scarcity to unprecedented levels.

There was a reason why Seo Heemin, a Prime Omega, was considered a special commodity and placed as the final auction item.

“Ugh...”

Blinding spotlights illuminated Heemin from all directions. He had expected it, but experiencing it firsthand was overwhelming. His vision turned stark white as if his retinas were being scorched. He shut his eyes tightly and dry-heaved once more.

Long sleeves covered the backs of his hands, and the hem of his shirt reached down to his thighs. Dressed in nothing but a single white shirt, Seo Heemin stood under the glaring lights as the audience erupted in cheers. Whistles rang out from all directions. The auction was reaching its climax.

“Hey, mister.”

Heemin grasped the iron bars with both hands and called out to the emcee in the flamboyantly colored suit. In the end, Cha Iheon would be the one to purchase him anyway. No matter what he did, the auction couldn’t be stopped, so at the very least, he wanted to settle his nausea.

But the auctioneer, holding the microphone, merely glanced back at him before proceeding with the product introduction, acting as if he hadn't heard a thing.

“Item number 20. Height: 178 cm. Weight: 60 kg. A Prime—”

“Mister, give me some water!”

“—Omega...”

“I said, give me some water! I feel like I’m going to throw up!”

The auctioneer abruptly shut his mouth and gestured with his chin toward a staff member holding a long electric baton. It was a silent command to grant Heemin’s request. They likely didn’t want him dirtying the stage with vomit. Soon, a cold water bottle was pressed into Heemin’s hand.

“Bidding starts at one billion won.”

“One billion!”

“Two billion!”

“Three billion!”

“We have three billion. Any bids for four billion?”

“Five billion!”

“Seven billion!”

“Ten billion!”

“A phone bid for fifteen billion has been placed!”

Back in reality, Heemin had never been outright bullied. However, for some reason, both men and women tended to avoid him like the plague. The only person who stuck by his side was a middle school friend.

But in the novel, Seo Heemin was a delicate lily who effortlessly attracted men like a swarm of bees.

By the original script, he should have been shaking in disgust, recoiling at the Alphas raising their hands to bid on him. He should have been trembling with rage, screaming and crying.

Instead, Heemin nonchalantly sipped his water, hoping the price would climb even higher.

After all, Seo Heemin was supposed to be an unparalleled beauty. Even if he was being sold like merchandise, it felt oddly satisfying to be recognized as a protagonist of this story.

The atmosphere in the auction house heated up instantly.

Halfway through his bottle of water, Heemin finally felt like he could breathe. Wiping his mouth, he scanned the participants one by one.

“Cha Iheon has to be sitting somewhere here...”

Throughout the novel, Heemin had been dying to see Cha Iheon’s face. Not just because he was the man who both loved and loathed Seo Heemin—but because, of all people, his name was the same as Heemin’s only friend.

When he first opened the book, Heemin had been shocked. He had expected to see his own name, but discovering that both the main love interest and his best friend shared the same name had been horrifying.

For a moment, he had considered quitting the book altogether.

At first, he thought his sisters had changed the character names as a prank.

But as he kept reading, he realized it was nothing more than a coincidence.

The two Cha Iheons couldn’t have been more different.

First, their personalities were polar opposites. Second, their appearances—at least as described in the novel—were nothing alike.

The novel depicted Cha Iheon as a towering figure, well over 190 cm, with sharp, striking features that instinctively drew the eye. Beneath his tightly fitted dress shirt, rigid muscles stretched taut, creating an imposing physique. His breathtaking good looks were marred only by the harsh furrow of his brow, which carved a ruthless and domineering presence.

A cruel butcher who slaughtered without hesitation—an image so stark that Heemin couldn’t help but laugh.

It was funny because his Iheon had no such threatening aura, nor did he have a permanently furrowed brow.

However, his friend did have one merciless trait—turning every man around him into a mere background extra.

Heemin’s friend Iheon was just as tall and so handsome that talent agencies fought over him, but he had the air of a model student rather than a gangster.

Their personalities also couldn’t be more different.

His friend wasn’t particularly talkative, but his dry humor always delivered unexpectedly hilarious punches.

Iheon was like an oversized dog, always tailing Heemin. He was also a coward who was too scared to watch horror movies and a karaoke addict who hogged the mic whenever they went out.

“I’m curious. What does he look like?”

He was eager to see what the mobster version of Cha Iheon looked like.

The novel had a hard-cover edition with a plain black design, with Crimson Veil written in stark red letters. There were no illustrations of Seo Heemin or Cha Iheon, so Heemin had been forced to rely entirely on his imagination.

Pinching his nose shut, he scoured the crowd for Cha Iheon.

A greasy bald man? Eliminated.

A skinny guy with glasses? Eliminated.

A massive man who had to weigh over 100 kg? Eliminated.

Then—

“Fifty billion.”

A deep voice, smooth and low, cut through the crowd.

From within the shadows, a single hand was raised.

Even without seeing his face, Heemin knew—he just knew.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

His voice was a little deeper than his friend’s, a little heavier.

That man had to be Cha Iheon.

According to the original setting, despite a ten-year separation, Seo Heemin had no trouble recognizing him.

His heart pounded uncontrollably, as if proving the novel right.

Heemin leaned forward against the bars, straining for a better look. But Cha Iheon remained perfectly still in the shadows, unmoving.

The spotlights shut off, and the rails began moving again.

As Heemin was transferred to a container illuminated by dim yellow lighting, he anxiously awaited Cha Iheon’s arrival.

Then—

A pair of black dress shoes came into view.

Smooth, plain-toed Oxfords. No broguing.

A polished gentleman’s disguise over a ruthless beast—how fitting for Cha Iheon.

A scent, deep and lingering, curled into his senses. A bold, musky pheromone, just as aggressive as its owner.

His breath hitched.

Slowly, Heemin lifted his gaze.

Endless legs.

A taut chest visible beneath a sleek dress shirt.

A pronounced Adam’s apple—

And finally, the face he had been desperate to see was burned into his vision.

Heemin's breath stopped.

"Seo Heemin."

Would his friend look like this in nine years?

A forehead sculpted with sharp angles, a nose standing tall like an unshakable mountain, and a scar slashing across his brow, adding a brutal edge to his otherwise expressionless face.

His friend’s features were identical, yet Cha Iheon radiated an overwhelming masculinity, wild and untamed—so different it was almost terrifying.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

Heemin had indeed possessed a novel character’s body, but this world—this place—felt like a reconstruction of his subconscious.

Otherwise, their faces wouldn’t be this similar.

“It’s been ten years.”

A pair of abyss-black, three-whites eyes cut through the dim lighting, swallowing the darkness as they locked onto Heemin.

At that moment, his chest tightened, and his fingertips trembled.

Eyes sharp and unwavering, as if staring down an enemy on the battlefield. A gaze devoid of politeness, raw and direct—the look of a man who would claim Seo Heemin no matter the cost.

The intensity in Cha Iheon’s pheromones seeped into the air, carrying an unrestrained hunger that coiled around Heemin like a trap.

“You look good.”

Iheon’s gaze lingered on Heemin’s face for a long time.

He was lying.

Even without a mirror, Heemin knew he must be a mess—his face streaked with tears, his expression worn thin.

It was mockery, pure and simple.

“Are you happy? Getting sold for fifty billion?”

‘Yes! I’m thrilled I went for a higher price than in the original novel!’

Of course, there was no way he could say that out loud.

Instead, Heemin bit his lip and kept his silence.

Iheon’s lips curled.

“Where the hell have you been, rolling around like that? You put on quite a show back there. Thanks to you, I had to spend an extra twenty billion.”

A show?

Oh.

He was talking about how Heemin had begged the auctioneer for water.

So in the end, it wasn’t Seo Heemin’s beauty that had driven the price up—it was Heemin’s impulsive, thoughtless actions.

Startled by the realization, he met Iheon’s gaze.

His sharp, feline eyes curved fluidly like a rippling wave, but beneath them lay a quiet, frigid stillness.

And yet—

Heemin didn’t feel fear.

Rather, his gaze kept drifting toward the slight smirk tugging at Iheon’s lips.

They were the same lips, the same shape—yet, on him, they felt dangerous.

Seductive, even.

How could the same features feel so completely different?

“You’re not even worth ten million,” Iheon murmured.

His tone was light, almost conversational.

“But it pisses me off to think my old classmate might be spreading his legs for loose change.”

Heemin froze.

Iheon’s voice—it was the exact same line from the novel.

He was quoting the original text, word for word.

Feeling a dull ache crawl up his spine, Heemin bit down on his lower lip.

Iheon reached out lazily, his fingers catching Heemin’s chin in an unhurried grip.

Deep, dark eyes—like a forest in the dead of night—bored into his.

And then, slowly, deliberately, he spoke.

“I need a hole to dump my pheromones into. Every time I fuck you, I’ll take five billion—no, let’s make it ten—off the price. Earn back your worth.”

Now— @@novelbin@@

It was time for Seo Heemin to say his next line.

“Just kill me already.”