Snake Venom Ch 12

Chapter 12

Lee Yeonwoo, tense and alert, turned his gaze toward the direction from which he felt a presence. His vision was clear, and he knew the building’s layout better than anyone. Yet Lee Yeonwoo felt more powerless and defenseless than ever. It was because of his incapacitated abilities and the near-complete lack of information.

Glancing back and forth between the man standing beside him and the end of the hallway, Lee Yeonwoo spotted a group emerging and his heart sank. Armed men were approaching in a group.

However, as they drew closer, Lee Yeonwoo’s tension slightly eased. He reasoned that if they intended to kill him, they would have opened fire like before; there was no need to close the distance unnecessarily. In any case, all Lee Yeonwoo wished for was to survive until the official end of the game, so he whispered to the man beside him.

“Are those people on our side too?”

The man glanced at him briefly. His eyes unreadable, a faint curl lifted the corner of his lips. He had picked up on the pitiful implication of Yeonwoo’s use of the word “our.” The man readily answered.

“Probably.”

The response was somewhat ambiguous, but the man’s demeanor spoke volumes. His eyes were calm, and his slightly relaxed posture was oddly reassuring.

Still, anything could happen. Lee Yeonwoo, pretending to be distracted, inched closer to the man. The man had a gun and was quick-witted. Most importantly, he was large enough to use as a shield. At this point, Lee Yeonwoo openly hid behind the man and glanced back.

To the left, just a few steps away, was a room with a thin wall containing a window. It was the only back route for escape. If anything went wrong, he would bolt through there. Busy strategizing, Lee Yeonwoo didn’t notice the man’s gaze fixed on him.

The leader of the group approaching them gave the man a brief bow.

“Eight confirmed dead.”

“What about President Park?”

The soldier hesitated at the man’s question before responding. His Adam’s apple bobbed stiffly.

“We’re sorry. He’s currently being pursued.”

The man replied in a calm tone, as if he had anticipated the outcome.

“How would we have known about the escape tunnel he prepared in advance?”

In contrast, Lee Yeonwoo, who was eavesdropping, widened his eyes. President Park escaped?

A relationship of pursuit and evasion. That meant the likelihood was high that these people were hostile to President Park. Not just hostile—even fundamentally different. They didn’t seem to be of the same breed as Park at all. Rather, they resembled the police or prosecutors…

Armed like soldiers, their hierarchical conversation, the defunct system of Sodom—it all pointed to the possibility that this place had been swept clean by government forces.

“The objective has been achieved, so there’s no rush. Round up the small fry at your discretion.”

“Round up.” That single word confirmed Yeonwoo’s suspicion. There was no longer any doubt. Utopia Sodom, once a hellish and impregnable fortress, had collapsed. At the same time, his heart pounded fiercely. Hope and anticipation pounded against the inside of his chest.

The man turned to look at Lee Yeonwoo. Just as their eyes seemed to meet deeply, the man’s hand reached swiftly toward him.

Lee Yeonwoo flinched and stepped back. Whether the man had expected it or simply didn’t care, his actions remained composed. Long, bony fingers brushed Yeonwoo’s cheek and soon began fiddling with the collar restraint around his neck. His touch was still cool.

The man took his time inspecting the collar. Each clink of the device made Yeonwoo’s shoulders twitch. It was the shackle President Park had threatened would not only track his location but explode the moment he tried to run. Yeonwoo figured it was better to warn him about the danger. He was just about to speak when the man beat him to it.

“We’ll need to call in a technician.”

“I’ll inform them.”

The man’s gaze landed on Yeonwoo’s face, which was filled with confusion. As soon as he felt that gaze, Yeonwoo turned toward him—but quickly averted his eyes to the ceiling. The man had moved so close that he could make out the color of his irises.

The man remained silent for a long time, as if observing or assessing something. Yeonwoo couldn’t make sense of his own situation, the current circumstances, or what he should do next. All he could do was curl his toes in anxiety.

What could he be thinking? The stare was no longer subtle; it was intense to the point of being painful. Suddenly, a firm pressure was applied beneath his cheekbone. It was the same spot where the half-blood had slammed his face into the ground.

“Ugh.”

A pained groan escaped from the unexpected touch, but the man had already withdrawn his hand.

“You should get that wound treated.”

The man said, rubbing his eyes. There was fatigue in his drained tone. Just as he was about to speak again with a short sigh—

Grrrrrgle—an embarrassingly loud growl echoed from somewhere. The man looked down at Yeonwoo’s stomach, the source of the sound, while Yeonwoo looked away awkwardly. It wasn’t shameful to be hungry, yet he felt embarrassed nonetheless.

“Is there anything you’d like to eat?”

“……”

Yeonwoo looked at the man instead of replying. It was inevitable that wariness would come before joy. This was still Sodom.

President Park had put a price on everything that could be consumed. And that price depended entirely on his thin-skinned and capricious moods. Because only a bare minimum amount of food was ever rationed—just enough to prevent death—Yeonwoo was constantly hungry. Did this man know that? Not that it mattered.

Lee Yeonwoo had never forgotten his own situation—being 300 million won in debt. No matter who these people were, they were certainly not saviors. They moved for public interest. That meant they were bureaucratic and indifferent. They wouldn’t be kind or sympathetic enough to care about a half-blood like him. Every public official he had met had been the same.

“Lee Yeonwoo-ssi.”

At the soft call, Yeonwoo’s quick yet cautious eyes turned toward the man.

“Are we still on the same team?”

Yeonwoo tried to meet his eyes with strength, but the unexpected question caught him off guard. Why is he asking me that? But he soon realized—it wasn’t really a question. It was a warning not to run. Only a fool would provoke a man holding a gun. Lee Yeonwoo nodded and replied.

“I like rolled omelets.”

The man’s eyes softened ever so slightly in response.

“Follow them. They’ll guide you.”

Walking with the soldiers, Lee Yeonwoo looked back. His eyes, still trembling with unease, turned to the man.

“Um… By the way.”

He cautiously opened his mouth to the man who was waiting for his next words.

“About what you said… that we wouldn’t kill each other, since we’re on the same team.”

He didn’t care how the man took it. If the man detected a hint of desperation, all the better.

Though the man had already told him he wouldn’t kill him, Yeonwoo needed to make sure. There had been ten participants in total. All of them had been killed by this man—except for Yeonwoo. Even the bear and the half-blood, who seemed to be special targets. Just being the only one who hadn’t committed murder wasn’t enough to feel safe.

“Do you happen to remember…?”

The man raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. It was the same expression he wore when Yeonwoo had smugly tried to shield himself behind the excuse of trade secrets. A dispassionate voice followed.

“I did say I wouldn’t kill you.”

“Yes. That’s right.”

Whew, he remembered. Yeonwoo sighed inwardly. He could think about the rest later. For now, he was just grateful to be alive. Simplifying his thoughts, he followed behind the soldiers.

The man, watching Yeonwoo’s retreating figure, let out a brief snort. He stared at the jet-black soles and wounded heels with a dry gaze, then turned his head away.

It was the first time he had ever seen the outside world with unobstructed vision. Snowflakes fluttered delicately in front of Lee Yeonwoo’s eyes.

As he followed the small particles with his gaze, his field of vision filled with a dimly glowing old streetlamp and bare winter trees. The autumn in which he had been dragged here had long passed, and now withered leaves fell one by one. Even as Lee Yeonwoo had repeatedly brushed past death, the world had continued moving forward. It was an unfeelingly absolute sequence.

Sniffling once, Lee Yeonwoo looked up. Ah, the sky. A night sky filled densely with stars, unmarred by a single cloud, dazzled his eyes with its beauty. A faint smile escaped his lips.

The empty lot he had paced again and again was surrounded by a dense forest. He had guessed it was somewhere in the mountains from the smell of grass and the sounds of insects—but to think it was this lush. Setting aside the sudden emotions, he stepped onto the gritty dirt path and followed the group.

Eventually, they entered the building opposite. From within the entrance, a man walked out as if he had been waiting. He, too, wore a combat uniform like the rest of the group, but his aura was especially upright. His neatly styled, glossy hair and black plastic glasses added to his exemplary image.