The Second Male Lead Syndrome

WARNING

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, AND MATURE THEMES THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR SOME READERS.

—

Soren walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, heading in the direction she last saw Hyacinth go. 

As she passed by a dim, shadowy corner, she caught sight of someone standing there—completely covered, their face hidden beneath a hood or scarf.

The moment the figure noticed her, they turned around and quickly walked away without saying a word.

Soren paused, unsettled. 

That was creepy.

She couldn't see the person's face at all, and something about them felt… off. 

But since she was already right in front of the bathroom, she decided not to overthink it and went inside.

"Hyacinth? Are you here?"

Soren didn't smell any pheromones—clearly, the pheromone purifier had been turned on in the bathroom. 

If that was the case, then whoever was here had finished at least minutes ago. 

The purifier would've already filtered out any lingering scent by now.

"Hyacinth?" 

A low groan came from the last cubicle.

Soren frowned and cautiously stepped closer.

Did she… get too intimate with whoever she was with?

That groan—it sounded hoarse and strained, nothing like Hyacinth's usual voice at all.

Damn… Hyacinth, you really went all in, huh?

Soren picked up her pace, shaking her head as she approached the last stall. 

Her friend really ended up like this… after doing it with someone? Tsk tsk.

They'd been at it for almost an hour now—whoever that person was, they had serious stamina.

Soren was about to knock when the stall door creaked open on its own. 

She pushed it gently—and froze.

Hyacinth was sitting on the closed toilet lid, looking half dead.

Soren blinked. "…?"

This… wasn't what she was expecting.

She quickly checked Hyacinth's pulse. 

Still beating. 

She let out a breath of relief.

Looking at Hyacinth slumped like this, Soren couldn't resist pulling out her phone and snapping a few photos—purely for blackmail material, for future use.

Hyacinth already looked somewhat cleaned up, like someone had taken the time to fix her clothes and hair a bit before leaving. 

Must've been that mystery person. And they clearly had the energy to spare, too.

Soren sighed, tucking her phone away before reaching out to help her friend.

She suddenly remembered that person she saw earlier in the corner—completely covered up, acting all mysterious.

Maybe… was it her? The one who did it with Hyacinth?

Her opinion of them shot up immediately.

"Wow. What a good girl," she muttered to herself, impressed. "Great stamina and still stuck around to help tidy Hyacinth up? Respect."

Hyacinth in question: … 

She was half dragging, half carrying Hyacinth—who was completely unconscious.

Hyacinth was heavy, and slightly taller than her. Soren could barely manage to lift her at all. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she struggled up the stairs, her expression deadpan.

It honestly felt like hauling a giant sack of rice. She should've asked Aurora to help earlier, but in her attempt to escape from Sora, she basically shot herself in the foot.

Soren took a deep breath, her right foot about to step forward again when suddenly, a high pitched voice called out.

"Do you mind if we help?"

She looked toward the voice and saw a man with a big nose in a waiter's uniform, standing next to a tall man dressed the same. 

Something about them instantly felt off.

Soren's gut twisted. 

She didn't know why but she didn't like these two. Her instinct told her something was wrong with them.

She didn't even bother to smile.

"No need."

The big nosed waiter didn't budge. "Don't worry, young lady. We just want to help you."

The tall waiter chimed in with a smug grin, "Let me carry her for you. You're just a woman, and I'm a strong man—I can haul two heavy bags of flour, one on each shoulder!"

If he didn't look like a walking stick, maybe someone would've believed that. Even a full grown beta man who lifts sacks every day only carries one at a time.

Soren rolled her eyes and started climbing the stairs again. "I don't need your help. Does it matter if I'm a girl? I'm an alpha."

She didn't glance back at them—not once. 

She could feel the weird vibe from those two and wasn't planning to stick around. Without hesitation, she picked up her pace and ran up the staircase.

Right before disappearing around the corner, she threw one last jab over her shoulder.

"And you're just beta men."

That hit exactly where it hurt.

Their fragile egos flinched under the weight of it—frustration washing over their faces like a slap.

The two waiters were on their way to clean up the mess in the hallway when they caught sight of someone carrying Hyacinth.

At first, they assumed the person carrying Hyacinth was just one of her undifferentiated friends. Since they were beta males, they couldn't smell pheromones at all—so they had no reason to be suspicious. 

Seeing Hyacinth half unconscious, they immediately believed their plan had worked and that she had already consumed the drugged alcohol.

They didn't exchange a word. 

Instinctively, they took the opportunity and began chasing after Soren, who was struggling up the stairs with Hyacinth—clearly heavier than she could comfortably carry.

Since the two were grown men and unburdened, they quickly closed the distance. 

The tall waiter surged ahead, reaching out to grab the back of Hyacinth's shirt.

Only to be met with a sharp kick to the face that sent him stumbling backward down the stairs.

"You—!! F*ck!!"

"Get her!!" the tall waiter shouted, rage bubbling up as they both lunged forward again.

The big nosed waiter snorted. 

He hated being ordered around by someone he considered beneath him. But since they shared the same mission—and more importantly, the money involved he gave in and started the chase.

Soren was breathing heavily. 

Their room was at the far end of the hallway. 

If she could just push herself a little more, get up the stairs and around the corner—she might make it in time.

Where the hell was the security? It was level 4—there's no way anyone could have sabotaged it this easily. Unless… There was a traitor working from the inside.

She looked up at the CCTV camera mounted in the corner. The red light that usually blinked steadily was off. The lens, normally glowing faintly, was dark and lifeless. Her expression shifted, jaw tightening as a cold realization sank in.

The camera wasn't just off. It had been disabled. Deliberately. Her eyes narrowed, and the tension in her shoulders rose like a coiled spring.

Only the bar downstairs remained noisy—suspiciously louder than usual, and oddly packed with more customers.

And those two—when she got a better look at their uniforms, something felt wrong. The fit was slightly off, the fabric too crisp, like it hadn't been worn long. But it was the nameplates that made her pause.

The names were familiar. People she knew. People who were supposed to be stationed elsewhere.

Her gaze flicked between the nameplates and their faces. 

The features didn't match. 

Wrong eye color. 

Wrong build. 

Even their posture seemed unfamiliar, like they weren't used to the uniforms they were wearing.

Initially, she was just confused, trying to make sense of it. But then the weight of realization sank in like a stone in her gut.

Those uniforms weren't theirs. 

Someone was impersonating the staff

Hyacinth was being targeted again.