Dirty Switch

"The article will probably run like this."
"Oh my. Thank you, sir. May I take a look?"
"Of course, of course. You're the one who set the table, Kim."

Kang Bunam slurped his coffee with a crude chuckle, looking utterly undignified. But what did that matter? Even if the old man had been groveling in filth, Kim Seungjun wouldn’t have cared.
Thanks to this geezer, who didn’t hesitate to smear his own blood relative just to gain more shares, Seungjun’s plans were progressing smoothly.
"Still, Kim, you really think this'll stick? No matter how many drafts we write, the higher-ups keep cutting them down."

"That’s only because we didn’t have concrete evidence before."
When Seungjun pulled a few neatly folded papers from his coat, Kang Bunam took them with a skeptical look. Sure, he appreciated all the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) whispering Seungjun had been doing about Joo Taehyun, but if this batch didn’t produce results either, he was ready to toss him aside. That was probably the extent of the old man’s loyalty.
"Huh? What’s all this? Looks like house photos... A storage unit? Is that right?"

"Yes. This is the house Joo Taehyun lived in while he was in Washington. Turns out he was receiving Dirty Switch there—huge quantities of it too. Ballsy bastard."
"Hmm. But even if it’s true, it’s not like we’ve got his face in the shot. Will this really go the way we want?"
"We’ve got a copy of the rental contract, photos from a maid who visited regularly... plus other smaller bits of evidence. But the most important one is this."

Seungjun tapped his phone screen to activate it and held it out to Kang Bunam.
"This photo’s the real deal."
"Wait, that’s Taehyun, isn’t it?"

"Yes, look closely. That’s Joo Taehyun himself, handling what’s inside the suitcase."
This time, there was no mistaking the subject. In the photo, a younger-looking Joo Taehyun was hosing something down in the yard. The lighting was dim, but the object next to him was clearly identifiable as the suitcase from the storage unit.
"You little shit! You should’ve shown me this from the start. I’ve been running around for nothing!"

"It’s all part of the plan, sir. When this story breaks, you’ll hold a press conference, right? You’ll say you tried contacting news outlets several times, but no one would meet with you or run the story. That’ll draw even more attention."
The scowl on Kang Bunam’s face melted into a warm grin.
"Ha! That’s actually not bad. I’ve got plenty of proof—call logs, texts—where I begged reporters to listen."
"Exactly. Then we’ll follow your lead from there. I mean, who’d entrust the DH Group’s future to a punk who’s been on drugs since his teens?"

"Exactly! Damn right."
Suppressing a sneer, Seungjun put his phone away.
"Man, Kim, you’re really something. How the hell did you even get that kind of evidence? If only my grandson had half your brains..."

"Ha ha, feel free to praise me more. I worked damn hard for this."
Yeah. Worked his ass off. Just to get that one photo, he had to crawl through junkie dens day and night.
Once Joo Taehyun got older, there wasn’t a single shred of suspicious activity to be found. But Kim Seungjun didn’t give up. An Alpha marrying another Alpha? There’s no way that freak wasn’t on Switch. It was a reasonable suspicion.

Frankly, it didn’t even have to be Switch. Anything would do, as long as it gave him leverage on Joo Taehyun.
So he dug all the way back to the neighborhood Taehyun had first lived in after moving to the U.S. It was at some seedy little shop—he’d just gone in thinking he might buy some weed-laced gum for kicks—when he struck gold.
"Hey. You need any Switch?"

What the fuck—who the hell did this guy think he was? Seungjun was about to cuss him out with every word he knew when the clerk added:
"Ever since that Korean guy, nobody’s been buying this shit. Shouldn’t have stocked up so much."
"Wait."

"Yeah?"
"Tell me more about that."
Just like every other lowlife pushing drugs, the clerk’s mouth opened wide the moment Seungjun flashed a wad of dollars.

Stripping away the guy’s self-aggrandizing stories, what he got was this: some rich Korean had tossed down a massive order for Dirty Switch, and the clerk had been curious enough to keep tabs on him afterward.
"Looked like he came from money. Probably why he ordered so much without a care. Still, no doubt about it—dude was a perv Alpha, just judging by the drugs he asked for."
"What kind of drugs?"

"...Why’re you asking so much? You not even buying anything?"
"Thought he looked familiar. We were... partners, kind of."
"Partners? Could’ve fooled me. Barely anyone ever came to that house."

"'Barely anyone' still means there were men coming over, right? Fuck. Look, I’m losing my mind from jealousy here—don’t you have anything? He ordered through an app, right? You’ve gotta have some card records or something?"
"Eh... it’s been a while. But I think I did take a photo just in case."
And that’s how his twisted relationship with Thomas began.

Thomas, realizing his secret stash of photos could sell for a fortune, began bleeding Seungjun dry—demanding money, asking him to run errands for dangerous drugs, forcing him to hang out with addicts to keep cover.
Eventually, Seungjun even sampled the stuff himself. Not Switch, of course—that disgusting rut drug—but something milder, more common.
"...Kim?"

"Ah, sorry. My mind wandered for a second."
Scratching his arm raw, Seungjun forced a smile and pretended to listen to Kang Bunam’s babble.
From that point on, Thomas was like a straw stuck in his back, sucking him dry. Even dead, he was a pain in the ass. Seungjun had to get the drugs, do the legwork, cover his tracks. Maybe he should’ve just killed him and skipped back to Korea while he had the chance. No one would’ve missed that junkie trash.

Well—he had his excuse. It wasn’t premeditated murder. Just an accident, a little incident under the influence. Diminished responsibility.
"I swear, Kim, I won’t let this chance go to waste. You have my word."
"Thank you, sir. I just thought, as a citizen of the Daehan Empire, that we shouldn’t keep turning a blind eye to this kind of degeneracy. Pheromone enhancers for trait-holders? It’s beyond absurd, sir."

"Exactly! I feel ashamed just thinking about Taehyun. Kim, I apologize on his behalf for showing you such filth."
Seungjun’s goal was simple: ruin Joo Taehyun so thoroughly that he could never show his face in public again.
Of course, Taehyun was still young. Even with a scandal, he’d live a comfortable life. Kang Bunam and his cronies could gnash their teeth all they wanted—there was no way the DH Group’s hierarchy would collapse.

But Taehyun would carry that filth on his name forever.
In the beginning... yeah. Seungjun had been jealous of him. Not because of Seo Baekhan, like people joked, but because—how could you not envy someone born with a platinum spoon in his mouth?
“Watch your mouth. Just because you’re jealous of him being an Alpha doesn’t mean you get to make up lies about a kid who’s not even here.”

Fucking hell, that goddamn scholarship ceremony...
Neither Baekhan nor Taehyun probably even remembered it, but Seungjun’s life turned upside down after that.
His father, obsessed with expanding their business, cut him loose to stay close to the Crown Prince. Gave him credit cards and kept him fed, sure—but unlike others, Seungjun could never inherit the family business under his own name. Not while the Crown Prince lived. He’d never be introduced at events with the title “son of so-and-so” like Baekhan or Taehyun were.

And all because he said a few words on stage. And they weren’t even wrong!
"Oh, Kim! The reporters are actually calling back. This time’s different."
"Yes, I’ll keep reaching out to the contacts I know."

"Alright, let’s give it one last push."
"Thank you for your trust, sir."
Just one more step.

After this Friday, Joo Taehyun would no longer be “the youngest master of DH”—he’d be a fucking junkie. Search his name, and what’ll pop up? A twisted freak, addicted to rut-inducing drugs, who got off on getting plowed by another Alpha. He’d carry that until death—and even after.
Laughing under his breath, Kim Seungjun scratched his forearm until the blood showed through his shirt.
That’s what you get for chasing after another Alpha and sticking your hands in dirty Switch.

Call it what it is: just desserts.
***
"Is this the new Director’s office?"

Friday had come already, and Taehyun hadn’t even done anything in particular.
When Baekhan mentioned he could go out as long as it wasn’t far from the hospital, Taehyun asked to be shown around Jejungwon. He didn’t even hesitate—he probably would’ve picked it no matter what the options were.