Snake Venom Ch 74

Chapter 74

Cheon Wooshin chose a method that would ensure the enemy’s trail was unmistakably exposed, even if it meant killing the exploited victim and the one used to administer the poison. In this calculus, the victim and Sio would become the blindfold shielding the enemy. It was a ruthless, decisive approach—just as Seolkyung had once forced him into danger, and just as he had once driven an inhibitor into his own neck without hesitation.

Their adversary’s identity, scale, even purpose remained uncertain. It was a force so formidable that even the monstrous organization Utopia Sodom had seemed like a petty nuisance in comparison. Only by exploiting their moment of relaxation—the instant they believed their plan complete—could their stronghold be breached. The enemy would expose themselves only once the chosen victim succumbed as intended, and even the pawn they used was eliminated; only then would a seam appear. Into that seam, they would strike, and uncover the true root.

At that moment, the screen linked to Sio’s phone lit up. Sio was texting someone.

[I can pay everything by Thursday. Don’t come find me.]

And then another number.

[Let’s fight through today too. Love you, little brother ♥]

Yeonwoo stared at the messages for a long time.

“……”

They were probably just as vile as Chairman Park. Sio might die before they had any chance to save him.

Yeonwoo understood that. Time was short, and even one capable of poisoning someone as strong as Wooshin had to be cornered without misstep. Sio’s safety had to stay second to the mission. Even knowing that this was the right path, a bruise bloomed under his sternum. He had heard countless cries from nameless, faceless victims, and yet each time the pain hit like the first.

He thought of Sio, drunk and spilling words he must have kept locked deep inside. He must have taken the commission for one reason before all others—money. No, because he desperately wished to keep his brother alive a little longer.

One night had revealed too much. His throat felt thick, as if something were lodged there.

“Mr. Lee Yeonwoo.”

“……”

He lifted his gaze. Cheon Wooshin regarded him with a face as unreadable as ever, though something about his eyes felt like frost. Yeonwoo searched his memory—had he missed something?

“If you only half-dry your hair, you’ll catch a cold. Go finish drying it.”

The voice was gentle as always.

“Oh… yes.”

Yeonwoo touched his hair. He must have rushed out too quickly in fear of delaying others; it was still damp, and now he felt the faint chill. He could not afford to fall ill on the eve of such an operation. He stood promptly.

Wooshin lightly tossed the documents he held onto the table.

Cheon Wooshin’s team, bolstered by elite reinforcements, shared intelligence and mapped broad pursuit lines. Meanwhile, Yeonwoo observed Wooshin’s condition with vigilance, secretly signaling him whenever the scent intensified. Each time, Wooshin injected a tiny dose of inhibitor.

Yeonwoo also used spare time to learn real-world combat from Suho. Though it was called “martial arts,” most techniques were aimed at survival—attacking weak points of larger opponents, disabling armed assailants, escaping danger. Sparring with Suho left him drenched in sweat within an hour; he had to shower again. Thankfully, he had brought an extra change of clothes.

Eight hours of rest were granted before the operation, with all members to assemble the next morning at their assigned points.

Wooshin and Yeonwoo ate a late dinner at a nearby pho shop. Following Wooshin’s recommendation, Yeonwoo devoured a bowl loaded with extra meat, as well as fried rolls and fried rice.

Later, while resting separately in the lodgings, they gathered briefly in the living room when Seolkyung called.

Yeonwoo sat on the sofa when soft footsteps approached. Looking up, he found Wooshin offering him a mug.

“Thank you.”

A clear, fragrant liquid shimmered inside—like a drop of orange ink diffused in water.

Wooshin sat across from him. Dressed in a white T-shirt, lounge pants, and a robe, he looked more relaxed than usual, yet the firmness of his broad shoulders remained.

While Wooshin dialed Seolkyung, Yeonwoo cast a glance at his bangs. Usually, having bangs down softened a person’s impression—but not him. The gaze that peeked between the strands seemed deeper, sharper. As if sensing the intensity of Yeonwoo’s look, Wooshin raised his eyes. Yeonwoo voiced his thought plainly.

“You’re very handsome.”

Wooshin’s lashes lifted slightly, yet no further reaction followed—Seolkyung picked up.

He placed his phone on the table. Her lively voice filled the room.

—Another day survived, hallelujah!

Thanks to Yeonwoo’s keen observations, Wooshin had used a low inhibitor dose twice, keeping his condition stable all day. Seolkyung, checking his data just as thoroughly, was thrilled—no deviation from baseline before side effects.

If precise titration truly worked, they might partially counter what was deemed an impossible side effect. If so, perhaps the desperate urgency shadowing the Snake Venom case could ease—even slightly.

Yet basing a research path on such an exceptional case was risky, impatient. And in any case, this was mitigation—not a cure. They needed the mastermind and the antidote; nothing else mattered first.

—As for Mr. Lee Yeonwoo’s forced manifestation of hybrid traits… more time will be needed. Awakening dormant traits isn’t easy, but his are especially locked up. Feels like several layers of keys.

“Then perhaps… it’s irrelevant?”

If forceful attempts didn’t trigger anything, maybe it didn’t matter. Something sealed so tightly likely had no influence. His question was reasonable. Seolkyung hummed thoughtfully.

—Probably true, but there’s always a one-in-a-million chance. And to be honest, eighty percent of this is my curiosity—so don’t worry. Anyway, big mission tomorrow, right? Please take good care of our Wooshin, Yeonwoo.

“Yes.”

Call ended. Yeonwoo looked down at the warm mug in his hands. And, unbidden, tomorrow’s images surfaced. Every version of them was bleak. Ridiculous—it hadn’t even begun, and he already felt exhausted.

Wooshin’s voice cut through.

“Do you pity him?”

Yeonwoo’s head jerked up at the sound, then dropped again. He realized he’d avoided his gaze. Sweat formed at his fingertips as he tightened his grip on the mug.

The question was incomplete on its own, but Yeonwoo understood.

“Well…”

Did he pity Sio? He had no right to judge. But he did not intend to hide the reason for the heaviness in his chest. Wooshin, sharp in mission and subtle in life, had clearly noticed—despite Yeonwoo’s effort to conceal it.

Biting his lip, Yeonwoo swallowed.

“As you know, I borrowed a good amount for my grandmother’s hospital bills.”

“……”

His reflection trembled in the liquid.

“At Sodom, I endured by telling myself all I had to do was survive alone.”

“……”

“But if I’d had someone to protect… maybe I would’ve made choices like his too.”

Wooshin stayed silent. It did not feel like encouragement, but Yeonwoo could not stop. Maybe it was because he had forced the feelings down all day; maybe it was quiet resentment toward an unchangeable world.

“When we talked, he wasn’t so bad.”

There were no people born evil—just lives worn thin by circumstance.

“If we’d met somewhere else, at another time… maybe we could’ve been good friends.”

“Friends.”

At last, Wooshin spoke, plucking out a single word.

“Pick the wrong friend and you die.”

“Well… yes.”

True enough. Had they met in ordinary life, Sio still might have dragged him into danger. All of this was hypothetical—never reality. If they had met in a better world, in a safer way…

“Mr. Lee Yeonwoo.”

His voice came sharp, cutting cleanly through Yeonwoo’s fragile imagining.