Dirty Switch

“If you were going to take Baekhan’s place, you should’ve held your ground to the end. And if you didn’t have the nerve for that, then you should’ve come straight to the hospital with him.”
Assemblyman Seo’s words cut sharply, claiming that even a panicked display might’ve at least won some public sympathy.
Does that mean Hyung’s condition isn’t too serious, if he’s lecturing me like this? …No. He’s the kind of person who’d criticize whatever bothered him first regardless of the situation.

Knowing any response would only lead to more nagging, Joo Taehyun kept his mouth shut. He could tell Seo Hongkyu was getting more annoyed by the second at his passive demeanor, but frankly, he no longer cared about making a good impression.
Their marriage had been purely transactional. A mutually agreed-upon façade, with each partner allowed to maintain their own separate lives. In other words—a textbook example of a dysfunctional family.
Seo Hongkyu and Director Ahn were practically a living model of everything wrong with “political marriages.”

Early on, Joo Taehyun had tried to be polite with them—just like he had with his own family. But being spoiled with love didn’t mean he’d grown up clueless.
He quickly understood the atmosphere in Baekhan’s family. And Seo Baekhan himself had helped relieve the pressure by saying there was no need to get along with his relatives. After that, Taehyun gave up trying to impress the elders.
Without his feelings for Baekhan, there was absolutely nothing he stood to gain from this household. That arrogant question—“Do you think you’ll find a better Alpha than me?”—hadn’t been bluster.

That’s probably the only reason Assemblyman Seo never crossed the final line, despite finding him so disagreeable.
“Apparently someone named Kang Bunam was behind this.”
“…Kang Bunam?”

“What? You sound like you weren’t completely surprised.”
“No, not that. It’s just…”
It caught him off guard. He never expected that name to come from Seo Hongkyu’s mouth.

Kang Bunam was barely even a relative—so distant, it was basically like they weren’t related at all.
And yet that bastard had constantly sniffed around the main family’s wealth. Ever since Taehyun was born as the unexpected youngest, he’d even stormed into the DH Group lobby, shouting that the child was fake and only born to avoid sharing money with the extended family.
That name was unpleasant for everyone in the family—any time it was mentioned.

“Of course, he didn’t do it alone. A few old geezers aligned with Kang Bunam, some folks who’ve always hated DH Group, and a handful of younger punks centered around Pungjin Industries… even the anti-Prince Yi Hwang faction probably chipped in, even if they kept their hands clean.”
Taehyun had already suspected that the attack had been orchestrated by those hostile to trait-bearers, especially after seeing Baekhan collapse and watching the reporters get silenced instead of tending to him.
While clenching his teeth to stay conscious in the ambulance, he’d even half-wondered if Kim Seungjun might be involved somehow.
But never—not once—did he imagine his own distant relative would be connected.

“This isn’t the time for sighing. You should be thinking about how to handle this. You weren’t the one who got stabbed and ended up on an operating table. So why are you the one lying around uselessly?”
“…First, I think we need to verify that information.”
“Ha! You think others don’t already know? Has your family not said anything to you?”

“……”
“DH Group still treats you like a preschooler. Acting like you can’t handle something of this scale.”
“……”

“You deal with it. That’s how you make a clean image.”
“…Yes.”
“It seems the whole purpose of this attack was to stir up doubt about your traits and your use of medication. So prepare a clear, public rebuttal—and keep us informed. I’ll discuss things with your father-in-law separately… but you’re not a kid anymore.”

“…Understood.”
“I don’t want this issue causing any more noise. Not from you, and not from Baekhan.”
That wasn’t a request. It was a command. His sharp, commanding gaze made that clear as he stood.

When Taehyun started to get out of bed to escort him, Seo Hongkyu gently stopped him with a palm to the chest. That gesture—so eerily similar to Baekhan, yet completely different—sparked an odd feeling.
The tilt of his chin, the angle of his hand… they resembled Baekhan. But the overall aura was utterly different. …And the fact that he was noticing that right now only proved how far gone he was.
“Right. Let’s head straight to Pyongyang City Hall.”

His aides must’ve been waiting outside. The moment his footsteps approached, the door opened before he even reached for the handle.
Even when Taehyun offered a bow, Seo Hongkyu didn’t so much as acknowledge it as he left. Watching him walk away, Taehyun couldn’t help the creeping suspicion that he hadn’t even visited Baekhan—and had come here only to unload on him.
Even though Baekhan was literally in the room right next door.

Taehyun had been so disoriented when he woke up to Seo Hongkyu’s face that he hadn’t thought to bring it up—but still, shouldn’t ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) a father have some questions? After seeing his own son collapse right in front of him? How bad was the injury? What exactly happened? Were there any other red flags…?
The door shut softly as the man disappeared down the hall.
Suddenly, the harsh antiseptic scent wafting in from the hallway irritated his nose. Taehyun rubbed his face hard. His breath warmed his palms—and along with it, a faint trace of Seo Baekhan’s pheromones. It helped settle him, if only a little.

He exhaled, letting himself sink heavily back into the bed.
Did his family get notified? Of course they did. They must’ve been shocked… Where was his phone again? Thoughts swirled endlessly, but he didn’t want to lift a finger.
He’d just finish this IV drip, then go check on Baekhan. His own family would surely come see him—but Baekhan didn’t have anyone. Of course, Baekhan wasn’t the type to feel lonely or complain… but still.

As he lay there, limp like a soaked rag, the door suddenly opened again—without warning.
“…Hyung?”
The sound of the door sliding and wheels rolling in made Taehyun sit up fast. Did Baekhan move already? That would be insane—he’d just had surgery!

But the figure beyond the sliding door wasn’t a patient in hospital garb. It was someone wearing a ridiculously loud puffer jacket and dragging a suitcase plastered with logos.
“Ugh, fuck! Hyung this, hyung that—goddamn it.”
Dragging an oversized suitcase, Cheon Seungpil stormed into the room, glaring at Taehyun and gesturing wildly. He kept his voice low, apparently trying not to shout inside the hospital, but still managed to spew a string of creative curses.

“Why… why are you here?”
He was so stunned, the stupid question slipped out on its own. But how could it not? This was Cheon Seungpil. What was someone who should’ve been in the U.S. doing at Pyongyang University Hospital?
“What the hell happened to your face? And why are you so skinny?”

“How did you even get in? The place is on lockdown.”
“Because you pulled off a massive scandal, obviously! I rushed here to grovel and make it right!”
“What? Without even telling me?”

“I talked to Yoonwoo noona. It was supposed to be a surprise. Surprise! Except, fuck, the moment I landed at Pyongyang Airport, my brothers, my sisters, your parents—everyone started calling me nonstop. I was like, ‘What the hell?’ Then I look up—and bam! Huge-ass breaking news on the TV right in the terminal.”
He shoved his suitcase aside and looked over Taehyun’s face.
An overwhelming wave of fatigue hit Taehyun like a brick. He wanted to stay lying down and just talk from there, but Seungpil kept touching and prodding him.

“Are you seriously okay? I mean, they said Seo got stabbed, so why do you look like shit?”
Despite being here for a hospital visit, Seungpil hadn’t even washed his hands before grabbing Taehyun’s cheeks and pulling at them.
“…Everyone must’ve been really shocked.”

“No shit. Everyone—your brothers, your sister, your parents, the nanny, the butler, even Dr. Woo—they’re all sobbing, begging me to check on their precious baby and report back. And now I gotta figure out what the fuck to even tell them.”
Seungpil kneaded him like sticky rice dough, palm sticking to his skin. And with each motion, each brush of his hand near Taehyun’s nose and mouth, a strange sensation started creeping in.
“…Hey.”

“Huh?”
“Your hand—wait, ugh!”
What the hell is that smell?

A sickening, metallic stench stabbed through his sinuses like a spike. Taehyun recoiled, scrunching his face in disgust. It was bad enough to make him gag.
“Shit, what’s wrong? Should I call a doctor?”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just… something weird. Smells like… maybe the suitcase handle? Some kind of… metal stench.”

“Huh? For real? I’m calling a doctor.”
“No, seriously—it was just for a second.”
“Second or not, have you seen your face? You look awful.”

“I’ll deal with it. Just get out. And wash your hands—you stink.”
“Ugh, fuck. You’re so picky. If you weren’t an Alpha, I’d think you were pregnant or something.”
Grumbling, Cheon Seungpil finally trudged to the bathroom, muttering about how he should probably wash his hands after all.

Left alone, Joo Taehyun instinctively sniffed at different parts of his own arms, tracing the lingering scent of Seo Baekhan.
Then suddenly—like a lightning bolt—one thought froze him solid.
Wait.

“If you weren’t an Alpha, I’d think you were pregnant or something!”
Come to think of it—he’d reacted unusually sensitively to scents earlier, too, when Seo Hongkyu came in and left.
If his pheromones were abnormal… if his body had shifted into behaving like an Omega’s… if he’d ended up imprinting on Seo Baekhan without realizing it—

Then when they had sex without a condom…
Could I actually get pregnant?