Euthymia

Bloodlust Pandemonium

Suho sends Do Kyungsoo to do the dirty work. Because, well, what other purpose does a beta serve as a member of Seoul's most powerful gang? Take all the jobs none of the alphas want and the omegas can't handle. Risk your life by slithering into enemy territories like a snake in the grass because betas don't have pheromones; nobody ever pays attention to you anyway.

What is an appropriate reward for the kind of scraps-to-the-runts odd jobs Suho keeps assigning him? Surely not what he makes now; some two hundred dollars per shitshow doesn't cut it in a demanding district like flashy Gangnam. Two hundred dollars to go waltz into Itaewon and make conversation with a hostile conglomerate like some lowlife busybody deserves at least a thousand. This is his life on the line after all. Maybe even the Gangnam chaebol itself.

He doesn't wear a black suit for once. Suho told him his fashion choices are obnoxious and gaudy – appropriate for Gangnam socialites, not so appropriate for Itaewon gangsters. Don't look privileged and don't act privileged. The thing to avoid is attention.

So Kyungsoo goes with a leather jacket and denim because that's what Park Chanyeol wore. Nobody knows how to dress like Itaewon better than Itaewon filth. And filth Kyungsoo feels, and smells, as he roams the claustrophobic streets of the district, head clouded with the stench of sewage, car exhaust, and cheap liquor.

Suho provides him a lead because they don't have time to be chasing their tails for answers with Baekhyun's life hanging by a thread – a thread that seems to be dangling in Park Chanyeol's hands. The Henhouse: a club known for hosting Itaewon's criminal syndicate and irascible alphas. Called The Henhouse as a play on fox in the henhouse – a cheeky reference to the not-so-cheeky form of torturous entertainment that rakes the profits in.

Dog fights, as Itaewon calls them. Or perhaps fox fights to stay true to the analogy. But really they are human fights; alphas with enough substance motivation and anger mismanagement to lose any shadows of their humanity in the ring. And the hens – the omegas – all they have to do is sit still and get devoured. Sometimes. Most of the time the dogs, the foxes, the men, the boys can rip each other apart for entertainment and that will suffice. The ring masters only drop bait into the pit when the shtick grows tired.

Kyungsoo ducks into the shoddy establishment, entering a world of violence and bloodlust pandemonium. A cacophony of fists colliding with bone, rattling chains, hands grasping onto a chain link fence, screaming and hollering, more, more, more, kill him, fucking kill him already. He squeezes through the crowd to find a spot at the fence, staring into the ring where two alphas rip each other apart with their bare hands. Red mist, black eyes, purple skin, blue faces. Kyungsoo hears gurgling in one of their throats and looks away, cringing.

He keeps pushing forward, maneuvering through a labyrinth of sweat and hot breath, bumping shoulders and stepping on toes. The snapping of bones echo behind him. Then hollering from the crowd swells, so thunderously loud he feels the ground vibrate.

The only area that wears a semblance of civility is the cabaret – a dank wooden stage where omegas stand around in collars and panties surrounded by some tables and crates as chairs. Kyungsoo plops down on an empty crate, away from any people, and flags down a waiter. A drink. He desperately needs a drink. Something strong, bitter, and debauching. Two hundred definitely isn't enough.

But he didn't come here to get drunk. He came to work. So just a few sips. Nothing to hinder his performance. The waiter serves him nasty liquor in a plastic cup. Good enough for now.

He sits for a while and watches the show. A show of alphas hooting at omegas, painful house music blaring out of broken speakers, and the roar of the dog fights overpowering the entire building. He waits around for someone to notice him, ask questions, get suspicious. But no one pays attention to betas. Especially not in a hellhole like this. He paid for a drink, he engaged in Itaewon's nightly club romps, he didn't cause any trouble for anyone; there is no reason to keep an eye on him.