Chapter 13: The Human Signpost
by GideonJubin hesitated for a moment, trying to gauge the situation. But when he saw the man kicking Do-won, who was sprawled on the ground, he couldn’t hold back any longer and rushed over.
“Hey, is this guy with you?” the man who seemed to be the leader of the group asked, his tone dripping with annoyance.
“I’m sorry. My friend made a mistake,” Jubin said quickly, taking a humble stance as he apologized first.
After all, Do-won was the one who had recklessly charged in.
“Did you not see that? This bastard came and started a fight by slamming into us first.”
“It was a mistake. He didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Fuck, a mistake, he says. You hear that?”
They ignored Jubin’s apology, twisting his words and latching onto them, interpreting everything in whatever way they wanted.
Jubin’s primary thought was to get Do-won away from these men.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, gently helping Do-won to his feet.
The group immediately closed in, surrounding them in a threatening circle.
“Hey, man. You’ve got a dynamic, don’t you?”
What kind of backward assholes are still running around like this? Jubin thought. Their intentions were painfully clear.
“See, it’s my dream to fuck an Alpha or an Omega.”
Just a bored game to them. We really stepped in shit today, Jubin thought grimly.
He slowly stood up. The men were bulkier than him, but he towered over them.
“Damn, his dynamic is definitely different. Look at how fucking tall he is.”
“He’s an Alpha. Definitely an Alpha.”
“Shit, does that mean I’m the one getting fucked?”
“What do you mean, get fucked? We should be the ones fucking him, right?”
The ringleader sneered, shutting down the conversation with a nasty grin.
The rest of the group snickered, their words dripping with mockery. Jubin lowered his gaze.
“That was blatant sexual harassment,” he warned, his voice calm and steady.
But they only laughed louder.
“What, is he really a trait-born? Why the hell are you defending him?”
“He really is an Alpha. We’re fucked.”
“Fuck it! Report us if you dare!”
They hid behind the shield of hypothetical statements, treating him like a freak show—a curiosity to be poked and prodded, whether he was an Alpha or an Omega.
If they were wrong, they’d just laugh it off. If they were right, they’d just claim they didn’t know. It was the shallow logic of bullies.
Legally, discriminatory remarks against those with a designated trait were punishable offenses, but in reality, few ever faced consequences. After all, the accuser would have to reveal their own trait in the process.
For the bullies, it didn’t matter whether Jubin had a trait or not. All that mattered was the immediate thrill of not being bored and the smug superiority of having the upper hand.
Jubin usually brushed such things off, but today, their attitude was grating.
He sighed and took a step forward. The bully’s eyes flickered up, his gaze arrogant as he sneered, “What’s this punk trying to pull?”
“Did I get under your skin?” Jubin asked, his smile slow and deliberate.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
The immediate, defensive reaction confirmed it: they’d expected him to keep playing the doormat.
“Or maybe you’re just jealous?”
“Jealous? What the hell are you talking about?”
“I thought you’d want a free pass,” Jubin replied, his tone still flat.
While the rampages of Alphas and Omegas were a social problem, they were considered matters of instinct, beyond the individual’s control. As a result, society granted them a free pass.
However, a Beta’s violent emotional outbursts were dismissed as a mere moral failing, leaving them with no excuses.
On top of that, Alphas monopolized power and trust, while Omegas were seen as beings in need of protection, granting them institutional privileges. From a Beta’s perspective, they were all just human beings, yet they were treated like second-class citizens. This led to widespread resentment.
“You might as well just admit you’re a fucking animal.”
The thug spat on Kim Do-won, who lay sprawled on the ground, then stepped toward Jubin with a sneer. Jubin didn’t flinch.
“Is spitting on someone who can’t even fight back really something a human being does?” Jubin asked. “That’s assault and battery, plus a charge of contempt.”
“Go ahead and report me, you fucking bitch,” the thug spat.
The gang leader, seemingly rattled by the mention of legal trouble, flared up. Jubin added coolly, “So you do know the law is scary.”
“Like I give a fuck, you filthy animal!”
The thug’s face hardened, and before he even finished the sentence, he swung a fist. Jubin didn’t even try to dodge.
Fortunately, they still had plenty of time before the first filming schedule, and there were witnesses on the main street.
Above all, Jubin trusted the CCTV footage and was prepared to take the hit and sue.
He’d already reasoned that as long as he took action before any reporters did, the incident wouldn’t harm the production. In fact, if this brought the show more attention, it would even serve as free publicity.
Suddenly, someone caught the thug’s fist mid-air.
“That’s enough. There are plenty of witnesses.”
The fist stopped inches from Jubin’s face.
Drawn by the familiar voice, Jubin slowly turned his head.
“Do Zion…”
Why are you here?
His mind scrambled, unable to process Zion’s unexpected appearance.
“Are you okay, senior?” Zion asked, his voice gentle as he checked Jubin for injuries.
This was the real Do Zion—towering and built with a physique that a mere life-size cutout could never capture, exuding an overwhelming aura of pheromones.
“…Uh, yeah.”
The witnesses, who had watched from the sidelines without even thinking of intervening, now startedle into action, pulling out their phones to record.
Soon, the distant wail of sirens began to echo. The bullies exchanged glances, muttering curses under their breaths.
“Fuck, the cops!”
Their earlier bravado had vanished. The thugs, who had acted as if they were above the law, now hesitated, unable to decide whether to flee or stay.
The sirens grew sharper as they drew closer.
They knew running would only draw suspicion, so they seemed to be betting on staying put and claiming it was just a spontaneous fight.
When the police arrived, they separated everyone for individual statements.
The perpetrators were taken away as a group for questioning. After taking Jubin’s statement at the scene, the police deemed it sufficient and allowed him to go home.
Do-won, still drunk, had scraped his palms and arms when he fell and had sprained his ankle.
Because of the incident, Kim Do-won’s manager was summoned in the middle of the night and rushed to the scene.
“Do-won hyung! Are you okay?”
The manager jumped out of the driver’s seat in a panic. Zion, who had been supporting Do-won the entire time in Jubin’s place, handed him over.
“I’ll leave him in your hands.”
After a quick word of thanks, the manager drove off to the nearest hospital to get a medical certificate.
A wave of relief washed over Jubin, and he let out a deep sigh, his strength draining away now that it was finally over.
“Sunbae, are you really okay?”
The question snapped Jubin back to his senses. He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Let me see.”
Zion gently cupped Jubin’s cheeks, his gaze searching.
The crowd was swarming, eager to catch a glimpse of Do Zion, and the growing throng felt increasingly dangerous.
“I didn’t get hurt, thanks to you. I’m really okay,” Jubin said, deliberately pulling Zion’s hands away and glancing around to signal his discomfort.
“Do you want to go to the hospital too, Sunbae?”
“No, don’t worry about it.”
Jubin needed to get Zion away from here. He quickly changed the subject. “Where’s your manager?”
“He’s in the parking lot. Come with me.”
“No, I’ll go on my own…”
Jubin wanted to leave, but the growing crowd made it impossible.
Just then, Zion reached out and grabbed Jubin’s wrist, pulling him close.
“Excuse us. We’re leaving now,” Zion announced.
As if by some miracle, the crowd parted, allowing them to pass. Jubin kept his head down, desperate to avoid being photographed, as Zion led him away.
When they finally reached the main street, the people waiting for taxis gasped in shock.
“Omg, it’s Do Zion!”
“What? Why is Do Zion here?!”
Fortunately, all the attention was on Zion. Jubin seemed to go unnoticed, which was a huge relief.
A sleek black van pulled up in front of them.
“Get in,” Zion’s manager called out, sliding the automatic door open.
Jubin gave the manager an awkward nod before quickly climbing into the seat. Zion followed, offering a polite bow to the onlookers before sliding the door shut.
Now, Jubin was trapped in the confined space with Zion, making the already awkward atmosphere even more suffocating.
“How much did you drink?” Zion asked.
“Um, just enough?”
“What does ‘just enough’ mean?”
Jubin couldn’t understand why Zion was so obsessed with his alcohol tolerance. He couldn’t remember exactly how much he’d had—he never bothered counting past three bottles.
“I don’t know,” Jubin replied shortly.
Even when drunk, Jubin was the type to never let it show to others. He only let his guard down completely in his own space, where he felt truly comfortable.
While Jubin had been giving his full statement to the police, Zion had stood nearby, listening to every word. From the looks of it, Zion was also the one who had reported the incident.
“Thanks for today. For calling the police and everything.”
“You must have been really scared.”
Zion’s expression was unusually stiff. His voice was so firm it almost sounded like he was angry. Probably at those thugs, not me, Jubin thought.
“Well, I was a little surprised.”
Because you suddenly appeared.
“I figured. You were just standing there, unable to even run away.”
Wait, is he misunderstanding something?
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