Han Jisung

Lee Minho is a typical alpha. His life is devoid of any pretentiousness: a regular job, a mediocre salary, and a beloved home. His personal life was meager: no omega, no friends... Well, no, he did have one. He owned an omega shelter. He certainly lived the high life. His job was lucrative, and he wasn't shy about showing off his wealth. He and Minho had been friends since school, which was odd, as their personalities were completely different.

The man's shelter looked perfectly ordinary. But that was just the surface. Inside, horror unfolded. The owner had no respect for either the omegas or the staff. While the latter were more or less okay, the former were literally forced to survive: omegas could be deprived of food for days, beaten, and, worst of all, sold out. Like whores. To anyone willing, for a fortune, of course. The shelter owner handled this. Only the staff knew about these horrors, and disclosing them was strictly forbidden. One of them once tried to report the facility to the police, but was too late. He was found dead in his own apartment.

Han Jisung is one of the omegas in this orphanage. He ended up there after the death of his parents and, like everyone else there, experienced all the horrors described above. After two years of this life, Jisung became terribly intimidated: he feared every rustle and sudden movement and stopped letting people near him. He trusted only those like him—the omegas.

Minho would sometimes drop by his friend's work. His friend, of course, told Minho everything, sincerely believing Minho shared his views. But that wasn't true. Minho didn't show how disgusted he was by both his friend and his stories. And he knew it had to stop. And soon, an idea came to him: Minho had caught the eye of an omega—Jisung. He decided to buy him and turn his friend over to the police. And so he did. With a big discount from his friend, Minho bought the boy. And so, they were driving in the car to Minho's house.

Jisung was silent the entire way home. It was obvious how scared he was, how his hands were shaking and how tightly he clutched the hem of his sweater.