Snake Venom Ch 48

Chapter 48

As they stepped out of the exit, snow was falling. Lee Yeonwoo looked up at the sky with a renewed sense of awe. Small tufts of snow floated gently down from the sky, landing on his bangs, the tip of his nose, and his lips.

Perhaps it was because of the memories from Sodom, where day and night were indistinguishable. Just being able to see the change in seasons and weather with his own eyes like this made him feel grateful.

Cheon Wooshin lifted his gaze to follow Yeonwoo’s line of sight. His black pupils, filled with the void, appeared dry and disinterested. Unlike Yeonwoo, who was delighted as though receiving a gift, Wooshin looked at the snow as if it were ash. But he didn’t urge Yeonwoo to move.

“Team Leader.”

“Yes.”

With a clean response, Cheon Wooshin focused his attention on Yeonwoo.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Every time Yeonwoo began like this, his eyes sparkled excessively. His shoulders and fists, taut with tension, made one curious about what he was about to say. It was only natural to wonder.

“Even if I stand next to you, I can still catch the scent.”

“……”

Yeonwoo pointed to the area below his ear.

“But this spot is the most accurate.”

“……”

“Would it be okay to smell it when I get really confused?”

The content was bold, but Yeonwoo was now staring at an innocent building pillar. Cheon Wooshin, silently observing this shy reaction, spoke up.

“I guess now’s one of those times.”

“……”

Cheon Wooshin glanced briefly down at Yeonwoo’s chest, as if he could see the heart pounding wildly inside. As if he could see through Yeonwoo’s pitiful attempts to hide his obvious feelings. In a gentle voice, he said,

“Go ahead.”

With that permission, he leaned forward slightly.

Yeonwoo had intended to step in himself, but Wooshin’s unexpected movement made him tense instead. Perhaps it was because they had once been this close before. Suppressed memories flooded his mind, and he instinctively stiffened.

“Is this close enough?”

With his head tilted slightly, Cheon Wooshin was right in front of him. Though his face was composed of masculine features, it carried a graceful, smooth impression, perfectly proportioned without flaw. Just yesterday, those same eyes had looked at Yeonwoo as if they would devour him, but now they blinked slowly and stared aimlessly into space. He looked like a painting.

Yeonwoo’s mouth grew dry. He didn’t know why. Why were his fingers and toes curling inwards, why did it feel like the blood in his body froze in an instant? Could this be called affection, born from longing?

“Should I keep waiting?”

“Oh, uh, just a moment.”

He took in a short breath. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to intensify.

“I think I’m fine….”

Yeonwoo trailed off and widened his eyes. Their gazes met—Cheon Wooshin had been watching him. The emotion that had confused Yeonwoo before he even caught a scent suddenly swelled in size. No, it felt like it exploded.

Yeonwoo, startled, avoided his eyes and began to fluster.

“M-My grandmother says I smell like wood. She said it’s not a common scent.”

“Really?”

The kind reply spread warmth in Yeonwoo’s chest. His mind stopped working properly.

“I don’t know the exact type, but she said it was nice. If you smell mine too—.”

As Yeonwoo mumbled whatever came to mind, he blinked. What had he just said?

It was a clear mistake. He had brought up a culture that only half-bloods understood with a human. Worse, someone who had been forcibly injected with that trait. This wasn’t just rude—it was an utter failure in comprehension.

Getting carried away just because he got a free meal. How arrogant.

“I’m sorry.”

Realizing his faux pas instantly, Yeonwoo took a step back and bowed deeply in apology.

“Mr. Lee Yeonwoo.”

The voice addressing him hadn’t changed from before. Relieved, Yeonwoo looked up again at Cheon Wooshin.

“You seem simple, but you’re not.”

Suddenly assessing him, Cheon Wooshin rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Though you seem transparent, there are parts that are a bit opaque.”

Yeonwoo looked at the snow fluttering around Cheon Wooshin.

“And while you seem solid….”

He stopped his hand and slowly furrowed his brow. His helplessly smiling face looked like winter itself.

“What should I buy you this time?”

Like he was enchanted, Yeonwoo spoke. Now he understood.

“Team Leader.”

“Yes.”

The gentle reply gave him courage.

“There’s something I want to do.”

Because this person wanted to comfort him.

 

“You want to practice shooting?”

“Yes.”

Yeonwoo stood at the rail. A cold, empty space with no one else around. There was no heating, and his fingertips were cold, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was a focused mind.

The only thing bothering him was Cheon Wooshin. His gaze meticulously followed Yeonwoo’s every move—distinct and intense. It wasn’t the same tension he felt with Jung Suho. Still, Yeonwoo steeled his resolve.

This was a chance. If Wooshin was watching, he stood to gain much more. With a quick side glance at him, Yeonwoo adjusted his posture.

Bang! A burst of flame erupted from the muzzle. He had practiced, yes, but only for half a day. And with the momentum broken, he fumbled from the very first shot. Quickly regaining his focus, Yeonwoo pulled the trigger again. With a loud crack, the strong recoil jolted through to his shoulder.

Checking the target, Yeonwoo bit his lip. He had almost hit the center. Suppressing the urge to throw up his hands in triumph, he calmly focused his gaze.

After finishing one set, Cheon Wooshin told him he could continue if he wanted. Pleased, Yeonwoo nodded eagerly. Just as he changed magazines and was about to pull the trigger again—

Cheon Wooshin’s phone vibrated in his coat. He gestured, stopping Yeonwoo just in time.

“Go ahead.”

The caller was Joo Doyoung. There weren’t many reasons for him to call at this hour. As Yeonwoo glanced at Wooshin’s increasingly serious expression, he lowered the gun and removed his earmuffs.

— I don’t know if this is lucky or screwed.

“Did the signal come through?”

A short sigh came through the receiver.

— Come through? It’s closing in way too fast. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already pinned down the coordinates and are preparing for a raid.

“That’s good.”

Cheon Wooshin calmly scanned the surroundings. His black eyes shifted slightly. After exhaling slowly, he spoke quietly.

“Request a support team to the shooting range.”

— Ah…? Team Leader?

“Tell Suho to assemble a team and secure the escape route completely.”

As Joo Doyoung fell silent, Cheon Wooshin continued giving instructions.

“Once the full force is confirmed, proceed with entry. I know you’re already doing it, but continue reverse-tracking the signal. Once you find President Park’s coordinates, pass them to Lim Sehan.”

Joo Doyoung spoke urgently.

— Wait, wait a second, Team Leader. Do you even know how many of them there are, how far they’ve come? I think it’d be better to move away from the location that’s been exposed.

Cheon Wooshin held out his hand. Yeonwoo placed the gun into his palm. The pistol, specially assembled for Yeonwoo as a beginner, still gleamed with a sleek, haughty shine as if unwilling to accept its owner. Wooshin turned it over in his hand, speaking unhurriedly.

“We’ve said before—they need to enter a certain range for accurate reverse-tracking, right? There’s likely more than one tracker. We don’t have time to waste.”

— That’s from the safety-focused perspective. But you’re in danger. You keep doing this, just like last time—

“We have to catch them all.”

Even after setting fire to the ant nest, they had escaped. The leadership, including President Park, had fled through a rat hole, and aside from Yeonwoo, no valuable information had been obtained. So Cheon Wooshin intended to leave no worker ant behind this time.

Even if they caught President Park, if the network connected to him wasn’t annihilated, there would be a second, third Park. These were people who had committed countless crimes—murder, assault, human trafficking, drug distribution, organ trade, illegal video circulation. It wasn’t just about investigation—it was about eradication. And now, when they were off guard, was the perfect opportunity.

Joo Doyoung’s overprotectiveness was nothing new, but to the current Cheon Wooshin, it was only a hindrance. Doyoung didn’t know the hourglass had been flipped for Wooshin. Even if he did, his nature wouldn’t change. The nagging rivaling a snowy field needed to be cut off here.

“So tell Suho to come as soon as possible.”

— Ah, Team Lea—

Ending the call abruptly despite Doyoung’s continued pleading for alternatives, Cheon Wooshin gestured to Yeonwoo. Quickly catching the mood, Yeonwoo walked over in the direction Wooshin led.

At the secure, vault-like gun storage, Cheon Wooshin locked it with a double latch, then looked down at Yeonwoo’s clear face behind him.

“……”

“……”

His eyes said: Just give me a task.

That’s what they were saying.