Despite his emphasis on the fact that their company was a sports agency, Ko knew next to nothing about the nature of the work. He had been given a role merely because he was the uncle of the CEO, and he loved to take part in get-togethers of other departments or teams and get solidly drunk. He’d then preach to others.
“In any case, Jiheon, you must feel the proudest right now. Who knew that a swimmer from our country would get so much attention?”
Jiheon hadn’t expected the conversation to take such a turn. He put down his glass.
“Of course. I really am quite proud. It would be nice if government support were expanded to include the field,” he said, as a good employee of a sports agency might.
Someone from General Affairs, seated on the other side of the table, spoke.
“Oh, right. You were a professional swimmer as well, right?”
He sounded as though he’d just remembered.
“He used to be a national athlete. He even won a medal in the World Swimming Championship—bronze in a 100-meter freestyle,” Seungmyung said proudly.
“Why do you sound so proud, Mr. Nam?”
Yun quickly pointed out, but the employee from General Affairs was exclaiming in disbelief, and his voice was buried in the commotion.
“The World Swimming Championships? Not the Asian Games?”
“That’s right. He was in his first year of high school, so that was what, seven years ago? It was a World Swimming Championship held in Berlin.”
“No way. Not even Gwon Jaekyung won a medal in a World Swimming Championship yet!”
The employee shouted, visibly excited. Jiheon quickly waved his hand, taken aback by the reaction.
“No, he simply chose not to go last year. It wasn’t that he wasn’t able.”
Jiheon emphasized and continued.
“He hasn’t been to one yet, which is why he hasn’t won a medal. He’ll win one next year. Gold, probably. He’ll probably sweep up every award.”
Despite Jiheon’s desperate explanations, Nam simply responded.
“That’s beside the point. That doesn’t change the fact that you were the youngest person in the country to win a medal at the World Swimming Championships. You were only in the first year of high school. Jaekyung can’t break that record even if he enters next year and gets the gold medal.”
“Mr. Nam, how do you know so much about this?”
“Jiheon is the same age as me. He used to be really popular on social media as a good-looking high school swimmer.”
“That... was a long time ago,” Jiheon said, embarrassed.
The employee from General Affairs seemed elated, exclaiming, “Oh, look! He’s feeling shy!”
“A magazine did an interview on him, and I used to read it with my friends,” Seungmyung continued.
“As I said, why do you seem so proud? You’re not the one who won the medal.”
“Oh, I’ll take that.”
Seungmyung said, ignoring Yun and clearing the table to set out some newly served food. After all the extra food had been served, the man from General Affairs cut a German sausage with a knife and looked up.
“Why did you quit swimming?” he asked.
It wasn’t exactly a nice thing to ask a person who had been a professional athlete in the past. But here, there were so many people like this that it didn’t seem to be an offense. Yun had played professional volleyball, and Seungmyung had actually been in competitive shooting until middle school.
“I was dealing with an injury. Among other things,” Jiheon said.
“I see. Well, injuries aren’t something you can do anything about,” the man said. He seemed to have expected an answer like that and asked no further questions.
“Too bad. You might have become even more successful than Jaekyung if you’d stayed in the field.”
“Nah. I doubt that,” Jiheon said, laughing dismissively. Ko interrupted again.
“You never know. It looks like our new guy here is as tall and well-built as Jaekyung. How tall are you, anyway?”
“About 180 centimeters,” Jiheon said, being vague on purpose and giving him a smaller number than the truth.
“Is that right? I’m 180 centimeters myself. You seem a lot taller. 184?”
Yun said, immediately getting it right. Before Jiheon could confirm or deny it, Ko thumped the table.
“My goodness. That’s tall. Real tall. And you—you’re in that category, right? You’re an alpha.”
Jiheon simply smiled, offering no response. Ko slapped the table again, as if Jiheon’s silence was confirmation enough.
“So I’m right! He’s not saying anything. He’s an alpha, all right.”
Ko nodded emphatically, even though Jiheon had neither confirmed nor denied it, apparently pleased with himself.
“Uh oh, Mr. Ko? You’re not supposed to ask that sort of thing these days unless the other person offers the information voluntarily,” Yun said in an exaggerated tone.
“What? Why? Does this have to do with that Anti-Discrimination Act or whatever?”
Ko asked, sounding displeased.
“It’s always been against the Anti-Discrimination Act to do that. These days, people can report you for sexual harassment if you ask questions like that.”
The hard tones came from Seungmyung, not Yun. He was one of the few employees in the company who had voluntarily revealed he was an omega. The mention of sexual harassment, reporting, and whatnot seemed to bring Ko to his senses. He muttered to himself, clearly flustered.
“Oh... Dear me... But I wasn’t even trying to insult him for being an omega. Just asking if he’s an alpha. Is that also sexual harassment?”
“Yes. It’s best just not to mention it at all,” Yun said, filling Ko’s glass.
Ko continued to grumble about how difficult things were these days. Seungmyung glared at Ko as if he wanted to shoot the man dead. Then he took a deep breath, turning toward the TV screen again. He seemed to have decided he would just watch something nice on TV and refresh his mind rather than break everything down for some old man.
It was a wise decision, since a replay of the swimming event had just begun. The broadcast station focused on the gold medalist who had done the country proud, sending out footage that filled the screen with Gwon Jaekyung.
The electronic buzzer rang, and the eighteen-year-old champion jumped into the water instantly. He slid through the waterlike a sea creature born to rule it—fluid, fast, and effortlessly precise. He then rose to the surface amid a spray of white foam.
One had to search a while for the right words to describe him.
He was beautiful from beginning to end—both before and after the medal was put around his neck.