Snake Venom Ch 76

Chapter 76

So this is a high-class district, huh… looks whatever.

That bravado existed only in Sio’s head. In reality, he was hunched like a small animal bracing for slaughter. Polished roads, pristine lamps lining both sides, and buildings gleaming like fresh lacquer—everything here shone. The only thing reminiscent of where he came from was the bite of winter wind.

After exiting the subway, he took a taxi as instructed. It had been a long time since he’d felt fear this sharp. Even when he repeated—I’m just here to sell my body, same as always—his palms grew wet.

The sun had long dipped, leaving the sky dusky. Arriving at the destination, Sio lifted his gaze to the hotel. Luxurious lighting poured down its facade, walls layered with extravagant precision, a glowing sign in a language he didn’t even recognize. His eyes stuck to it all.

To mask his shrinking heart, he puffed himself up internally. Hotels are just hotels. Seen them on TV a million times. Just bigger scale, same deal. Pay money, stay the night—same as a cheap motel. Right now it’s just… a fancy sex room.

Even as he belittled it, he stared far too long at that dazzling structure.

Poor, innocent student forced to do this to pay for school.

He recalled the fake identity the client fed him and curled his lips. Freak. Who has tastes like this?

He’d wondered how to fake inexperience despite how many times he’d sold himself. But then he met Lee Yeonwoo a few days earlier—and everything clicked. Growing up in hardship yet clinging to decency; playful one moment, but stammering and shying away the second a conversation turned risque. Pure, earnest, a little stiff. Perfect. Sio borrowed that image wholesale.

He mentally reviewed his plan as he headed for the elevator. The client didn’t care how—it just had to be injected. Highest success chance meant stripping fully. Distract him a little, suck him off, wait for his guard to drop, inject into the thigh. If the first chance slipped, adapt.

After the injection? Not his problem. He completes the job, gets paid. Whether the man died or became another “venom victim”—not his concern. That was the only way to stomach this.

If someone else had to be ruined so his brother could live? Then so be it. Hell could deal with him later. Acid rose in his throat; he swallowed hard. Then again. And again.

The elevator chimed and doors opened. His phone vibrated. Deposit alert. He checked the amount and blinked. Right on time. The money darkened his judgment as surely as ink in water.

One thought remained. Finish the job and you get multiple times this. Solve everything. Money is king.

He reached the designated room, pressed the bell. When the door opened, a middle-aged man stood there—wealth practically dripping off him. Whiskey scent rolled out heavy enough to rival cologne. Smells like money.

The man’s gaze traveled slowly up and down Sio. Normally, Sio would’ve snapped, What, you just gonna stare?, but he performed—timid, obedient. He bit his inner lip, eyes flicking nervously like someone anxious about what came next.

“Come in.”

Cultured tone. Civilized diction. Greed in his eyes betrayed him. Sio dipped his head slightly and entered.

Across the street in a café parking lot, a plain midsized car sat facing the hotel entrance—ideal vantage point. The special-coated windows made it impossible to see inside. Within, Cheon Wooshin and Lee Yeonwoo waited.

The chatter in their earpieces faded; each member was now in position. The stillness felt like the breath before a storm. In the passenger seat, Yeonwoo stole a glance at Wooshin.

“……”

Sharp nose, long lashes, eyes fixed forward. Poised, vigilant. He did not look back—even though someone as keen as him surely felt Yeonwoo’s gaze. It nagged Yeonwoo, this chill between them; since morning they’d exchanged barely a handful of words. All he’d seen was Wooshin’s profile and back.

Was he still disappointed in him? Yeonwoo fiddled with the compact binoculars Wooshin had silently handed him earlier.

Sio appeared exactly on time. After staring up at the hotel endlessly, he entered and vanished. Thirty minutes passed. Earpieces remained silent.

Once he injected the victim, money would hit his account. That trail—coin or laundered funds—would lead to their enemies’ vault. Just moments ago, one transfer had come through; Joo Doyoung began tracking it. Im Sehan prepared to infiltrate the victim’s side. Suho was scanning the perimeter. And Cheon Wooshin waited—for confirmation of a new casualty.

—Emergency call received. Moving in.

At exactly thirty-five minutes, Im Sehan’s calm voice sounded. Sirens wailed from the intersection—a red-and-white ambulance rolled to a stop before the hotel. Three medics masked and ready hopped out with equipment. Among them was Sehan.

—Caller is a guest who found the victim in the hallway.

—Hotel CCTV operational again.

Joo Doyoung’s voice, then Suho’s low one:

—Visual on injector.

Yeonwoo’s eyes sharpened too. Through the window, Sio emerged, passing the revolving doors. Yeonwoo lifted the binoculars. What seemed like casual walking now revealed subtle detail—disheveled hair, hastily straightened shirt, dazed expression. He noticed the ambulance and forced himself to hurry away.

Wind ruffled his black-dyed hair, revealing flushed eyes—had there been a scuffle?

—Heart rate, temperature, rapid test all match venom victim metrics.

Sehan’s report. Then Joo Doyoung:

—Deposit confirmed. Fifty million won.

Fifty million. Sio’s death price.

—Wasn’t it a hundred million last time?

—Too large a transfer raises suspicion. They choose the most tempting amount for a mid-tier injector.

Sio glanced around, waved. A taxi pulled up immediately—as if waiting. He entered. Wooshin started the engine. Minutes later:

—Unregistered taxi.

Yeonwoo swallowed hard. An unregistered taxi coming straight to him meant Sio’s safety was now beyond anyone’s guarantee.

Wooshin followed from a measured distance, slipping between vehicles with practiced precision.

Yeonwoo stared at the taxi. Dark tint hid everything inside. Imagination filled the void—sharp, ugly possibilities—making his neck stiffen.

Funds received. Sio in the trap. Everything unfolding flawlessly.

Now, with his usefulness spent, Sio would disappear along with the crime. The disposal crew would do the rest, in their own hellish way. Sodom had been hell—this would be worse.

Then Yeonwoo remembered something he’d forgotten. Getting ambushed by Park. The beating, confusion, insults cutting into him like blades. When Park sneered that his life and flesh no longer belonged to him, Yeonwoo had wondered—Am I already dead? In hell without knowing it?

Pulling away from spiraling thoughts, he lifted his gaze from the taxi to the night sky.