DASH-Chapter 184

Whether it was worth gritting his teeth to attend the press conference or not, the reward came swiftly—several journalists didn’t even wait until the next day. Articles were published that same afternoon, mere hours after the selection meet concluded. And by the following day, nearly every major sports outlet had jumped in with sensational headlines like:

“A National Team Selection Marred by Slander and Smear Tactics,”

“The Fall of a Promising Young Athlete,”

“A Major Sports Agency’s Secret—But Far from Noble—Scheme.”

Naturally, the internet exploded the moment the articles dropped—but the explosion veered off in a completely unexpected direction. Because reporters had raced to break the story first, trimming the details down to near-bulletin format, the general public only grasped a vague outline: fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

“One of Kwon Jaekyoung’s staff was nearly accused of triggering another athlete’s pheromone reaction, but was cleared thanks to the fact that Omegas don’t emit pheromones while pregnant.”

Then another article mentioned that the “staff member” had previously appeared on broadcasts with Kwon Jaekyoung and was his management agent. That was when the internet—every portal, every forum—detonated at once.

What do you mean?

So the agent really is an Omega?

Wasn’t he supposed to be an Alpha?

Unbelievable.

How can an Omega even be like that?

Well, I believed in Kwon Jaekyoung from the start.

Same here.

He would’ve made it regardless, even if his hyung was an Alpha.

But what if the baby’s not Kwon Jaekyoung’s, huh? Then what?

Are you insane? Of course it’s his, you traitor.

Obviously it’s Kwon Jaekyoung.

There was that one picture of him smiling—yeah, he’s definitely the dad.

If he’s smiling, he’s the dad.

Though when I saw that smile, I thought he’d lost it. But hey, when you’re that happy, you can lose your mind. Makes sense.

ANYWAY, LONG LIVE KOREA. THIS TIME FOR REAL—LONG LIVE!

Nobody cared about the actual details of the case—they were too busy chanting Long live the Republic of Korea for no reason.

But as more detailed and accurate reports came out the next day, and it became clear just how serious the incident had been, the comment sections quickly pivoted. Now they were flooded with rage against ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Han Yuseong and Kavva.

Han Yuseong was the one who claimed the pheromone reaction. He was also the one who pointed the finger at someone from Kwon Jaekyoung’s side. But people directed most of their anger toward the company, probably because Kavva had far greater brand recognition than Han Yuseong himself.

And then, to make matters worse, Kavva rushed out a public statement early Saturday morning, claiming to be addressing the situation—but it only backfired spectacularly. Despite opening with a “we’re sorry,” the rest of the statement went on to insist that:

This incident was unrelated to company policy,

It was an individual employee’s personal misconduct,

Said employee wasn’t even part of the main office but under a subsidiary label,

Same for the athlete,

The employee had already submitted a resignation as of the day before,

The company, too, had been shocked, distressed, and deeply troubled...

All in all, it was just a long list of excuses blaming everyone but themselves—only stoking public anger further.

People said Kavva’s statement showed they still didn’t get it. There were growing calls to boycott not just Han Yuseong, but all athletes affiliated with Kavva. Civil rights organizations like the Omega Human Rights League and the Coalition for Anti-Discrimination Legislation issued public statements, and soon Kavva was scrambling to release second and third follow-ups.

Even that wasn’t enough. When news broke that a civic group was preparing to stage a protest in front of Kavva’s HQ, the company’s CEO personally uploaded a handwritten apology to their homepage.

The Korea Sports Committee also realized they couldn’t brush this one under the rug like usual. On Monday, as soon as the weekend ended, they issued a statement. It was the usual boilerplate:

“We apologize to the public for the distress caused by the unfortunate incident during the selection meet. Given the gravity of the matter, we will pursue strict disciplinary measures. Should the police investigation confirm guilt, Han Yuseong will immediately be stripped of his national team qualification. The board will meet to determine further disciplinary action, including potential suspension.”

Still, the fact that the KSC said anything at all—especially in a case involving Kavva—was almost unprecedented.

All of this happened over four days:

From Friday morning when the incident broke, through Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

"See? People in this country never sit quietly when you mess with Kwon Jaekyoung."

CEO Kang slapped the armrest of his office couch, laughing nonstop.

"And this time they went after his family too."

"I heard my mother-in-law was raising hell, saying if anything happened to her grandchild because of Kavva, she’d never let them off the hook."

Team Leader Lee and Manager Yoon were grinning ear to ear as they chimed in.

"Man, I’ve seen a lot in my life, but I never thought I’d live to see a handwritten apology from the CEO of Kavva. Maybe next we’ll see them show up in court?"

"Probably just the VP, honestly," Jiheon replied. "But you never know. If they uncover anything else during the investigation, the audit could widen, and a bunch of people could end up implicated."

CEO Kang let out a booming laugh.

"Whatever happens, I don’t care—as long as someone gets fined. Those bastards need to get wrecked for once."

Meanwhile, in the same room, the legal team—led by Attorney Oh—was flipping through law books with grim faces.

Jiheon completely understood how they felt. They’d joined a small, low-profile agency to avoid heavy workloads and enjoy decent pay. But now, they were about to spend at least the next six months buried in lawsuits. And their opponent wasn’t just anyone—it was the most powerful agency in the entire industry. No wonder all they could do was sigh.

Jiheon felt a bit guilty too. As a fellow wage earner, he knew he’d just dumped a pile of unexpected work on them. But what could he do? It was already in motion. The moment Jaekyoung kicked Kavva to the curb and joined this company, this confrontation was inevitable.

And honestly, it was better to strike now—while Kavva was still flailing, caught in the very trap they’d walked into themselves. Right now, public opinion was on their side. Sure, media sentiment wasn’t the same thing as a police investigation or a court ruling, but still—with everyone’s eyes glued to the situation, Kavva’s lawyers wouldn’t be able to pull any backdoor stunts without risking exposure.

So Jiheon decided he’d done enough to justify the mess he caused. He wouldn’t feel bad about it anymore.

In fact, contrary to his initial vow to leave it all in the company’s hands, he was going to fully commit to his role as a witness. Not just as a coworker, but as Kwon Jaekyoung’s agent—and as family. That was his responsibility.

Though Kavva and the entire industry were now on high alert, glued to public opinion and press coverage, the person at the center of the whole storm couldn’t care less.

When Jiheon arrived at the hospital after finishing his meeting with the legal team, Jaekyoung was still lying in bed, scrolling through his phone. More precisely—he was reading posts on internet forums.

Up until Friday, the article comments were all “Long live Korea,” “Is the baby a boy or a girl?” “He’ll definitely be a swimmer,” “The Kwon family are two-generation patriots,” “Let’s go for three generations!” And reading those, he’d forgotten all about the pain in his shoulder, beaming with pride.

But starting Saturday, every article—without exception—was just wall-to-wall hate for Kavva and Han Yuseong. And with that, Jaekyoung grew noticeably sulky.

He was the one who lit the match urging the press to publish quickly, yet now he was grumbling:

Don’t journalists get weekends off? Why the hell are they posting this stuff already? What, would the world end if they waited till Monday?

When the main portals stopped producing comments that satisfied his ego, he even turned to Google. Searching things like Kwon Jaekyoung child, Kwon Jaekyoung junior, Kwon Jaekyoung marriage, Kwon Jaekyoung son, Kwon Jaekyoung daughter, Kwon Jaekyoung baby daddy, Kwon Jaekyoung formula power...

Eventually, he found a few communities where you didn’t need to be logged in to read posts. He spent the entire weekend glued to those from his hospital bed.

"You’re gonna end up with bedsores at this rate."

As Jiheon sat down in the chair beside him, Jaekyoung finally looked away from his phone.

"Hyung, did you know people are calling you Ssa-bu?"

"Ssa-bu? Like master? You mean like I’m your teacher or something?"

"No—Ssa-bu, as in husband of Ssa-mo."

(※ Ssa-mo = respectful term for teacher’s wife; Ssa-bu = coined term, “teacher’s husband”)

What the hell. Jiheon couldn’t help but laugh. But then Jaekyoung suddenly tossed his phone aside and clicked his tongue.

"Seriously though—why is every article saying three months pregnant, but not one of them mentions the baby’s name is Genie?"

"Because that’s not really the kind of thing you bring up in a scandal report."

"And now everyone’s calling the baby whatever the hell they want—Kwon Jae-joo, Kwon Jae-soo..."

"What’s Kwon Jae-joo supposed to be? Kwon Jaekyoung Junior?"

"Yeah."

"And Kwon Jae-soo?"

"Kwon Jaekyoung’s Son Swims."

Jiheon burst out laughing, but Jaekyoung didn’t think it was funny at all. His face turned serious.

"There’s already a name—Genie. So why Jae-joo and Jae-soo?"

He swore he was going to track down whoever first spread the terms Kwon Jae-joo and Kwon Jae-soo and sue them, but that’s when the doctor came in.

The attending physician, who’d been off on Friday, had finally come to check Jaekyoung’s condition—and was absolutely horrified. More than by the state of the injury itself, he looked stunned that Jaekyoung had actually competed with a shoulder that inflamed.

"How... how did you swim like this? Didn’t it hurt?"