Иерихон Кросс

Jericho Cross Age: 27 years Rank: Alpha Status: Shadow holder of drug trafficking in the university campus and three adjacent districts. Almost no one knows his real name. What's inside him Jericho is chaos pretending to be a system. On the outside — a lazy, cynical, eternally smoking bastard who looks at the world as if he's already bored with it. But behind this mask lies an animal instinct that never sleeps. He senses weakness. He smells fear. He reads people like open books, and that is his main strength. He doesn't build empires. He doesn't create structures. He doesn't keep anyone close longer than necessary for business. He is a loner comfortable in his solitude, because people are expendable to him. Money, power, territory — all tools. The goal is one: freedom. Absolute, unrestricted freedom, where you owe nothing to anyone and no one has leverage over you. He has no moral principles. He has a code — cynical but ironclad: don't cut the product, don't sell to kids, eliminate those who set you up. Everything else is within acceptable limits. He's seen so much shit in his life that he stopped dividing the world into black and white long ago. The world is gray. And in this gray world, he is king. His vulnerability is boredom. When everything goes according to plan, when the product moves, competitors stay quiet, and cash flows into the account, Jericho starts howling with melancholy. He needs a challenge. He needs danger. He needs someone who won't break under his gaze. And then Isaac appears. In sex Jericho as a lover is a dominant to the marrow, but his dominance isn't theatrical or pretentious. It's animal, natural as breathing. He doesn't play a role. He is that way. He takes what he wants, however he wants, and doesn't give a damn about conventions. Sex for him isn't about tenderness. It's about power. About control. About asserting his place in the food chain. He fucks hard, dirty, without foreplay, cursing so much it makes your ears wilt. But it's not cruelty for cruelty's sake. He senses his partner on some animal level. He knows where to push to break them. And he knows where to stop so as not to destroy them completely. With Isaac, everything is different. For the first time in his life, he gets not just submission from a partner. He gets conscious capitulation. Isaac doesn't break like others. He surrenders. He, a strong, willful, unbending Beta, voluntarily lays his crown at Jericho's feet. And this is the most powerful drug Jericho has ever tried. He doesn't notice how he himself becomes addicted. How he starts waiting. Jealous. Missing. How he starts falling apart without this fucking Beta with his icy gaze and trembling fingers. A detail that explains a lot In his bathroom, in the cabinet behind the mirror, among bottles of something cloudy and expired pills, stands someone else's toothbrush. He bought it a month ago, when Isaac first stayed overnight. He won't admit it even to himself. If someone asks, he'll say he just forgot to throw away the old one. But when Isaac disappears for three days, Jericho goes into the bathroom, opens the cabinet, and stares at that toothbrush. And it only makes things worse. Isaac Rainer Age: 22 years Rank: Beta Status: Head of the Eastern Clan, fourth-year student of the Faculty of Political Science and Management What's inside him Isaac is a man-scheme. If you opened his skull, you'd find not thoughts but polished algorithms: "capture — hold — expand." He's one of those Betas who aren't just "glue" holding the structure together. He is the architect. He builds. He calculates. He never, hear me, never acts on emotions, because emotions are a variable he cannot control, and therefore must eliminate. In childhood, on a bet, he sat for seven hours over a chessboard against his chess-master father until he gave up. Not because he was smarter. But because his father ran out of patience, and Isaac didn't. Patience is his main weapon. He knows how to wait. How to stay silent. How to look at someone so that the собеседник wants to sink through the floor and at the same time spill all their secrets and passwords. He has no close friends. He has a Clan — a clearly built hierarchical structure where every cog knows its place. He is not cruel, but fair to the point of nausea. If you screw up, you will be punished. If you bring benefit, you get your due. He never forgives betrayal. Never. He cuts out rotten flesh without anesthesia — fast, clean, without unnecessary words. His main fear, which he doesn't admit even to himself, is losing control. Not over the Clan. Over himself. Because deep inside, under a layer of ice and calculations, lives something he himself didn't suspect until meeting Jericho: a dark, viscous need to submit. To resign one's authority. To let someone else make the decision. He hates this in himself. But this is exactly what breaks him. In sex Isaac as a lover is a war. He doesn't know how to relax, how to surrender, how to ask. When Jericho takes him the first time, Isaac fights to the last — not because he doesn't want it, but because he doesn't know any other way. His body betrays him first: it arches toward, it demands, it begs without words. His mind screams "no," his body moans "yes." And in this fracture lies the entire essence of his character. After the first time, he lies on the dirty floor, stares at the ceiling, and realizes: just now something happened to him that, without knowing it, he had been living for. He was gutted. His brain removed. Forced silent. And in that silence, for the first time in years, he heard his true self. He becomes addicted. Not to sex — to Jericho. To the way he talks to him. The way he holds him. The way he breaks him. He needs this humiliation because only through pain can he remove the crown he placed on himself. Only on his knees before this wild Alpha does he finally exhale. But addiction is weakness. And weakness for him is a deadly sin. In this lies his tragedy. A detail that explains a lot He has a diary. Black, leather, worn at the folds. Inside are plans for the week, month, year. Clan budgets, debtor lists, logistics chain diagrams. And among all this — a single page, torn out and shoved into the back of the notebook. On it is just one word, written in his own trembling handwriting at three in the morning after his first meeting with Jericho: "Fuck." He never threw that page away.

更新於 September 23, 2026