Chapter 6

    “It’s been ages. Why hasn’t he shown up yet?” One of the burly men asked gruffly. His posture made it clear he wasn’t one to be trifled with.

    The question, which had been repeated countless times over the past hour, was met with silence.

    Beside him, two equally massive companions sat smoking in silence. Their hulking frames made the surrounding furniture look comically small in comparison.

    One of the other men, seemingly calmer, finally spoke after a pause. “Wait.”

    His voice was deep and raspy, reminiscent of a bass note. A scar on his cheek and his buzz-cut hairstyle made him appear unapproachable, exuding the air of a thug who preferred solving problems with brute force.

    Still, what he said wasn’t wrong. This group of men was an off-the-books debt collection gang, sent to handle things their way. They had parked themselves in this spot since late afternoon, waiting for someone who had yet to appear, even as the sun had long since set.

    Seecha Runcharoen.

    On the crumpled sheet of paper they carried, his name was scrawled over with red pen.

    This marked him as a delinquent debtor. The note detailed his history of postponing payments repeatedly before showing improvement by paying on time and in full without playing any tricks—only to backslide again. Over the past year, he had gone completely off the radar, leaving no way to contact him. His sudden move from his previous address without notice was a clear act of evasion.

    For this gang, no debtor could escape their grasp.

    Now that they had his current address, they weren’t leaving without results. In the meantime, they loitered around, their intimidating presence scaring off passersby as they claimed the area as their own.

    The building they were waiting at was a small, cheap rental property with no security personnel except for the elderly landlord, who was as small as a dwarf tortoise. When he tried to confront the suspicious men, he was promptly shoved aside, slamming into the wall like a ragdoll.

    Earlier, the gang had gone up to check Room 304 but found no one inside, so they came down to wait downstairs instead. Now, they had taken over the old man’s area, behaving as they pleased.

    One of them sprawled across a chair with his legs outstretched. Another fiddled with his phone while snacking on boiled peanuts belonging to the landlord, eating as if he owned the place. The third paced back and forth, refusing to sit, his movements only adding to the anxiety of the building’s residents.

    The elderly landlord stood trembling by the staircase, trying to maintain as much distance as possible while waiting for them to leave. Despite his fear, he craned his neck to see who their target might be. His mind raced with worry as he glanced up through the stairwell. He suddenly remembered—Room 304 belonged to the young single dad who worked for G Delivery.

    In a shaky, hoarse voice, he muttered, “Young man, you’d better come back soon, before they destroy everything my wife built.”

    The building was the only asset left to him by his wife, who had passed away three years ago. It was his most cherished possession, and he guarded it fiercely.

    By the time Seecha returned, the sky was pitch black. A large vehicle was parked in front of the building, but he paid it no mind.

    All he could think about was his soft bed and what he’d make for dinner. His carelessness blinded him to the danger creeping closer.

    As he stepped into the building he called home, he was just about to walk past the common area near the lobby when something dark flickered in the corner of his eye. It caught his attention, and he instinctively turned to look.

    At the same moment, all three men in black snapped their heads toward him in unison.

    Their eyes locked, and the men studied him from head to toe before glancing at each other knowingly.

    There was no mistaking it. The name tag on his chest confirmed his identity. The three men rose to their full height, towering over him. Seecha, significantly smaller in stature, had to crane his neck to meet their gaze. Before he could react, they closed the distance between them.

    “So, it’s you. Finally caught you.”

    Seecha’s feet felt glued to the ground. Trapped in this awkward and threatening situation, he forced a nervous, strange smile.

    “W-Wait, big brother. Let’s, let’s talk this out calmly—”

    Smack?!

    Before Seecha could negotiate further, a heavy fist slammed into his face with brutal force.

    The helmet he held clattered to the ground, rolling to a stop in a filthy puddle.

    His body collided hard against the wall, shaking it from the impact. His face twisted in pain, his mind reeling as if concussed. The right side of his face felt like it was already swelling, and blood from his nose trailed down his chin to his jawline, stark against his pale skin.

    The sudden chaos was unlike anything he had ever experienced, causing Little Shark to wail loudly, squeezing his tiny hands against his father’s chest as if to express just how terrified he was.

    Seecha’s eyes were bloodshot, and he held his child protectively, his arms encircling him as if shielding the most precious thing in the world. Gritting his teeth, he tried to lift his head again, but before he could, his collar was grabbed with violent force, and his entire body was hoisted off the ground.

    His words were barely coherent. “B-Brother, I-I really don’t have the money right now. Can’t you give me more time?” His hands gripped the man’s strong arms tightly, his collar digging into his throat and making it hard to breathe.

    He tried to continue, “I don’t have it, really. My son, m-my son is still so small. Please, have mercy on us. Just this once, I beg you. Ugh…!”

    The thug growled immediately, cutting him off. “Liar!” The excuse sounded hollow and insincere to him. “You said you’d pay but then ran off. You’re such a goddamned liar!”

    His anger flared, and he slammed Seecha back against the wall, pinning him there. He released the collar only to shift his grip, his hands wrapping around Seecha’s neck.

    Seecha’s face turned pale, the color draining as if he were a boiled chicken.

    “I-I won’t run anymore this time. Please, give me some time.”

    Seecha never thought his end would come so soon, but he wasn’t going to let it happen like this. His son’s trembling body brought him back to his senses. He couldn’t die here, crushed beneath the boots of these thugs.

    One of the men narrowed his eyes, glancing at Seecha’s employee badge before speaking. “Where’s your husband? Go get him.”

    If they couldn’t get from the wife, they’d settle for the husband. After all, this debt had originated with Seecha’s father and had been passed down the generations like an unwanted heirloom.

    The strange pronoun made Seecha instinctively tighten his hold on his son. His neck was still locked, preventing him from turning his head. He refused, “I don’t. I don’t have one.”

    The thug’s grip tightened, his brow furrowing further. “What? What do you mean you don’t have one? Speak clearly if you don’t want to get hurt! I’ve wasted enough time on you, you piece of shit!”

    Seecha’s body shook like a drenched bird, and his child’s cries only drove the knife of helplessness deeper into his soul.

    He wanted to cry. “My husband. I don’t have one. I don’t have a husband, ugh!”

    His breathing became labored under the pressure around his throat. The thug didn’t seem satisfied, as if he needed an answer that would placate his fury. Ignoring the child’s cries, he seemed more annoyed than anything, considering silencing the baby himself.

    “What do you mean, no husband?! What, did your kid just sprout out of bamboo or something?!” He then raised his hand to deliver another slap.

    Sensing things were going too far, the thug’s companions intervened, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

    “Take it easy, bro. Omegas are like that,” one of them met his gaze with a sly smirk and rolled his neck as if to assert dominance. “Probably spread their legs all over the place. The kid’s a mistake, so no dad. Am I right, fellas?”

    The last remark was directed at the others. While the big brother didn’t laugh, the lower-ranking thugs snickered, clutching their stomachs as if it were the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

    Seecha clenched his fists, his eyes clouded with frustration and helplessness.

    The rugged man’s demeanor softened slightly, though his tone remained harsh and unfriendly. “How much do you have on you right now? Hand it all over.”

    In that moment of life and death, Seecha knew better than to resist. He tapped the thug’s arm a few times to signal for him to let go, coughing as he nodded in agreement.

    “Yes, a-alright. I will.”

    Once released, he quickly agreed, too scared for his life to argue. Sitting down, he began counting every coin and bill he had in front of them, displaying the meager sum willingly.

    Three thousand and three hundred baht exactly…

    Seecha lowered his head, his lips pressed tightly together. He clutched the last coin tightly in his palm, concealing it from view, before discreetly tucking it into the shirt of his now-sobbing child, who had cried himself to sleep against his chest.

    Seecha glanced at the thugs once more before, with a mix of fear and resignation, handing over his entire bag.

    His pale face, now swollen and bruised, looked up timidly. “This is all I have. I’ll try to find more before the end of the month.”

    A sharp breath escaped one of the thugs, his face was filled with a bored expression. The three exchanged glances, silently agreeing that they wouldn’t get much more today. One of them looked like he wanted to slap Seecha again to make a point, but the sight of the bruised father and his crying child drained his will to continue. Finally, they decided to let him continue making money to pay them back.

    One of them glared and said, “You’d better keep your word this time, and don’t even think about running again.”

    He tapped the sweaty crown of Seecha’s head with a wad of 100-baht bills, smirking. “If you don’t want anything to happen to your kid, you’d better pay it all back. Let’s go!”

    They turned their back, and with a parting kick, one of them sent Seecha’s helmet rolling in the opposite direction.

    As calm returned to the building, the elderly landlord cautiously emerged, his cloudy eyes tracking the large vehicle as it disappeared down the road. He turned to look at the father and son with a mix of pity and worry.

    Seecha struggled to his feet, his first instinct to scan his son for any harm. Only after confirming that the child was unharmed did he feel some relief.

    He held his child tightly, planting a kiss on the boy’s temple as he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

    Sorry for dragging into such hardship…

    Crash?!

    Amid the rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the shore, a loud, jarring thud echoed through a private pool villa. The noise reverberated even outside the building.

    Thunk.

    Tithnuea, who had been heading back to his bedroom, froze in his tracks.

    His sharp eyes dropped to the floor, scanning the source of the sound with a puzzled expression. He swept his gaze around the room but found nothing else amiss.

    “...”

    He bent down to pick up the large framed photo, turning it over and inspecting it carefully.

    The frame was heavily damaged, its glass shattered into jagged shards that reflected fragments of his face. Under the reflection of the light bulb in the middle of the house, the photo itself peeked through.

    The image was of a boy in a school uniform standing stiffly in front of a large building, his expression stoic and emotionless, his hands resting at his sides.

    It was a picture of himself as a child…

    “How did this fall?”

    He looked up at the wall where it had hung and noticed the nail bent at an angle, no longer capable of supporting the frame’s weight. Though it had hung there for years, today it had failed.

    Tithnuea’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly as he sighed, carefully setting the damaged frame aside. He grabbed a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess, ensuring no shards were left behind. Once finished, he turned off all the lights, both inside and outside, and retreated to his room, sitting at his computer desk.

    The spacious room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint glow of a bedside lamp.

    Most of its decor was dominated by cool tones of deep blue. The wallpaper and bedding featured patterns of waves, alternating in shades of blue, white, and navy, creating an ambiance akin to being enveloped by the sea.

    “Here’s a brief overview.”

    Tithnuea took them, flipping through as he moved his lips slightly. “So, he’s still in the city?”

    Joseph, who had compiled the information, nodded in confirmation. “Yes. I don’t get why he moved, though,” he remarked. “Aside from lying about his gender, could there be something else?”

    The soft blue light from the computer screen reflected in Tithnuea’s sharp eyes as his long fingers scrolled the mouse slowly.

    Though Tithnuea had no official rank or authority in legal matters, he had tried to leverage money to uncover details about the employee from that bar a year ago. In the end, it had been futile; the employee records were confidential, and no information—whether the employee had stayed or left—was accessible.

    The scene before Tithnuea revealed the face of a man. Though it had been dark that night, it wasn’t so dark as to obscure everything.

    The photo on the employee badge displayed facial features that weren’t bad at all. Upon closer inspection, one might even say the man had a good-looking face. His compact frame gave off a sense of endearment, something Tithnuea had noticed firsthand as he carried the Omega effortlessly around the room that night.

    From the door to the sofa, and even into the bathroom, all the way to the sink. That Omega was light as a feather, almost like a pocket-sized dog—easy to carry anywhere.

    Back in his school days, Tithnuea had been one of the top students in his class. Even though a year had passed, the memories of that night remained vividly etched in his mind.

    His sharp eyes shifted to the right, his lips moving slightly as he read aloud, “See Cha...”

    A notification from his inbox suddenly interrupted him. It was a message from Joseph. Without hesitation, Tithnuea moved his mouse to click on it. The window switched to a high-angle map view.

    His eyes narrowed slightly.

    The map displayed a mysterious location, its details gradually loading and zooming in until it revealed rooftops and the surrounding structures. The information on the right displayed the distance from his current position. The place was no more than an hour away.

    His usually stoic lips curved upward slightly, and his typically indifferent eyes gleamed with a chilling intensity.

    “Finally, I’ve found you.”