Snake Venom Ch 44

Chapter 44

“He’s fine. But preferably, talk to me.”

“Yes, I will.”

Lee Yeonwoo’s cheeks glistened as he smiled brightly.

After leaving the city and driving a bit further along the national highway, they were greeted by gentle mountain ridges. As they turned onto a narrower road, a look of confusion crossed Lee Yeonwoo’s face. He had assumed that the “office” referred to some kind of government building, but instead, a sign pointed to a private shooting range.

As they crossed the parking lot toward the building, a man smoking in the designated area spotted them and waved his thick arm widely. It was Jung Suho, who came running and saluted Cheon Wooshin. Lee Yeonwoo bowed in greeting to him.

Gunshots of varying volumes echoed in and around the building like reverberating thunder.

Once inside, the sound of gunfire became even louder. For Lee Yeonwoo, who was visiting the office for the first time, everything was fascinating. Yet, the bulletin board displaying the training curriculum, experience schedule, and usage guidelines resembled those found in typical shooting ranges. It was surprising in itself that an office would be located in such a place.

“Lee Yeonwoo-ssi, have you ever fired a gun?”

As Yeonwoo peeked through the crack of a door into the shooting range, Jung Suho mimed firing a gun with his fingers and asked.

“I used to be the best shot in my unit. I almost became a sniper but ended up following the team leader.”

“I’ve never fired one before.”

Even the tranquilizer gun had only ever served as a warning before being disassembled without much fanfare, and he had experienced all sorts of other things — all because of that person. Lee Yeonwoo stared at Cheon Wooshin’s broad back as he walked ahead.

If side effects were to arise, would that former personality resurface? They might have to go through that terrifying struggle again, where he had truly felt helpless.

Just recalling those moments with him made some part of Lee Yeonwoo’s body tighten. Perhaps sensing the stare, Cheon Wooshin turned around. His gaze was intense, as if urging him to speak if he had something to say. Lee Yeonwoo rolled his eyes playfully, as if that might help conceal the memories of yesterday.

“Later, learn from Suho.”

Yeonwoo’s eyes moved to Jung Suho, who thumped his puffed-out chest as he spoke.

“I’ll make you the world’s greatest sharpshooter.”

Lee Yeonwoo, who had been secretly apprehensive, now had eyes that sparkled — as if he’d just received a long-desired gift.

“I’ll be in your care!”

“You haven’t even started yet.”

Jung Suho replied with a cheeky grin.

Cheon Wooshin, having entered the elevator, pressed an unmarked button at the bottom of the panel. There was a brief sensation of descending before the doors opened.

Cheon Wooshin and Jung Suho walked down the long, undecorated hallway with practiced familiarity. Sticking close behind them, Lee Yeonwoo occasionally slowed to glance around but quickly caught up. After walking a bit further, they reached a set of double iron doors. Cheon Wooshin pressed the handle.

Upon entering, the atmosphere changed dramatically.

Unlike the hallway, which looked shoddy with peeling paint and an overall worn-out feel, the interior opened into a spacious and modern area.

The space was laid out with only structural pillars remaining, giving it a wide, open view. Partitions, sleek and minimal, loosely divided the area. On one side were desks and computers; on the other, a whiteboard and a large conference table. It had a professional, almost set-like appearance reminiscent of a drama scene, but signs of everyday life peeked through in the form of a crumpled blanket on a folding bed and empty cup ramen containers.

There was a rustling sound behind the largest computer monitor. As Yeonwoo perked his ears and turned his head, someone peeked out. The man, with dark circles drooping down to his cheekbones, looked sleep-deprived, but his face was surprisingly youthful. He sipped from a straw stuck into a tumbler the size of his own head, waved a hand absentmindedly from behind the monitor.

“Ju Doyeong. He’s a hacker. The team leader personally scouted him from a civil war zone in the North.”

The northern border was a place where religious wars caused shells to explode daily.

“He’s young, but incredibly skilled. Aside from acting like a kid sometimes, he’s solid. He actually is a kid — probably just turned twenty.”

The voice whispering into Yeonwoo’s ear belonged to Lim Sehan, who had come over after spotting Yeonwoo while working nearby. When Yeonwoo bowed, Lim Sehan gave a drowsy half-smile. Unlike his first impression, his disheveled hair and tired eyes made him resemble Ju Doyeong. He habitually pushed up his glasses and let out a big yawn. He, too, was holding a cup of coffee. It smelled wonderful.

“Should I pour you a cup too, Lee-ssi?”

“No, I’m okay for now.”

As Yeonwoo politely declined, he sneaked a glance sideways. It was because of the intense gaze Ju Doyeong was shooting at him — like a cat on alert toward an intruder. Yeonwoo nodded to him, but Ju Doyeong only raised an eyebrow, ignoring the gesture. Awkward, Yeonwoo scratched his eyebrow. At that moment, Ju Doyeong called out to Cheon Wooshin.

“Team leader, please take a look at this.”

They hadn’t even finished touring the place yet. As Jung Suho brewed coffee, he grumbled, “That guy must’ve been possessed by the ghost of someone who died from overwork.” Ju Doyeong flipped him the middle finger with practiced ease in response.

Cheon Wooshin leaned over Ju Doyeong’s desk and looked into the monitor. A surveillance feed was displayed. He motioned to Yeonwoo — a gesture to come and take a look too.

Ju Doyeong, expertly handling the keyboard and mouse, began speaking.

“Here, you told me to reverse-track, right?”

The timestamp on the footage showed it was three days ago. The location was PEO Station, which Yeonwoo recognized. Early evening — as a subway train arrived, crowds surged in and out like waves. Amidst that, Yeonwoo spotted both himself and another man at the same time.

‘Ah, that guy…’

It was the man who had threatened him with a knife. When station staff came running after spotting Yeonwoo, the man shouted profanities and slowly backed away. He exited through the opposite exit from where Yeonwoo had left. Ju Doyeong skillfully followed the man through continuous camera feeds. The city was covered with cameras, especially in stations and busy areas.

Once outside, the station staff stopped pursuing him. The man, looking around, slipped into a secluded alley. Though the place was dim, Ju Doyeong tracked him smoothly. He captured the moment where the man dug through trash and hurriedly shoved something into his pocket. Ju Doyeong zoomed in. Wrapped in a black plastic bag, it looked like mere garbage at first glance.

“Way too suspicious, don’t you think?”

Ju Doyeong opened another file.

“Sehan and I went through this minute by minute — thought my eyes were gonna fall out.”

He smugly zoomed in on a new moment. A different man appeared — wearing a bomber jacket zipped to the neck and dangling with piercings. He tossed something into a pile of trash bags — also wrapped in black plastic.

“So I dug into this bastard’s background.”

The man strutted through alleyways like they were his own backyard. Occasionally, he tossed money to vagrants like handouts and greeted familiar faces with exaggerated gestures. Ju Doyeong didn’t miss a beat and zoomed in. During a shoulder-to-shoulder greeting, they exchanged something quickly — so fast and small it was hard to discern.

“Looks like he’s a middleman.”

Ju Doyeong nodded.

“Yeah, definitely.”

The footage rewound to four days ago. The suspected drug dealer was now wearing a black leather jacket. Between night and dawn, he left his home and drove an older model foreign car down an empty road. He arrived beneath a dark bridge. He stepped out, lit a cigarette, and checked the time — clearly waiting for someone.

“There aren’t many cameras here.”

As expected, the footage only showed limited angles. Not long after, a tinted black sedan arrived. The passenger never got out — just rolled the window halfway down and extended a hand. The black-gloved hand held a small paper bag, about the size of two fists. The man received it respectfully with both hands. Cheon Wooshin, who had been silently watching, finally spoke.

“This looks more like a supply exchange than a trade.”

If it had been a transaction, money would’ve changed hands first, and the man wouldn’t have been bowing so deeply. The man bowed several times to the departing sedan.

Ju Doyeong nimbly tracked the sedan using a mix of public and private camera networks. When it entered a recently developed urban planning district, Cheon Wooshin tilted his head.

“Unexpected.”

He said this because newly developed districts were usually tightly controlled, and it took time for illegal channels to infiltrate them. True to its name, as they entered the district, the roads were smooth and well-lit by evenly spaced streetlights.

“This is where the trail ends.”

The sedan stopped in front of a four-story building — not in a bustling area, but also not remote, just along an ordinary roadside.