Snake Venom Ch 83

Chapter 83

“Mm….”

Cheon Wooshin’s contemplation as he stared with cold indifference at the sprawled corpses and at Sio did not last long.

“Do not close your eyes.”

The business-like tone was more frightening than any overt threat. Sio nodded, and Jung Suho, standing nearby, leaned slightly as if to peek behind Wooshin.

“I’ll do it.”

“No. I will.”

Suho returned to position, hands clasped behind his back. Wooshin drew a dagger from his pocket and seized the jaw of the man lying before him. His impassive gaze flicked briefly toward Sio.

The man had told him not to close his eyes. Though every part of Sio longed to shut down and escape, he forced his eyes wide open instead. Because he understood—it was the only way to survive.

Then—scrape, slice. A sound and sight he had never in his life imagined filled his eyes and ears. For a moment, even breathing became impossible.

As Wooshin carved without hesitation, Sio could not tell if he was trapped in reality or nightmare. Compared to this, the moment in the taxi—his pants torn away and fists raining down—seemed almost more real.

With a face that still looked as if merely asleep, the corpse had only recently stopped breathing. Wooshin flayed its face with horrifying calm. The serene cuts of his blade and his bored eyes were like the reenactment of a cinematic serial killer—no, like a butcher numbed by routine. Sio clenched his shaking hands hard before the tremors took his whole body. If he lost focus here, the man would kill him. There was no doubt of it.

His knife work was unnervingly precise; removing even fingerprints took no time at all.

Blood pooled heavily across the ground. Wooshin looked down at his blood-red hands with detached boredom and wiped them lazily with a handkerchief. When only the stickiness was half gone, he picked up Sio’s ID from the floor.

He tossed the blood-smeared card lightly onto the corpse—the one that should have been Sio’s, had the original plan stayed intact. Blood soaked the rectangular plastic where it landed.

Suho handed Wooshin the hacked phone. Wooshin passed it back to the man. The man received it with horror—holding something that no longer felt like his.

“Tell them you killed him.”

The order itself was calm, yet the reasons to obey were overwhelming. Wooshin had manipulated the group to extract what he wanted, skinned a corpse before their eyes, and knew precisely how contact would occur with the client. What the man felt now was pure, choking survival instinct. Do it or die.

His fingertips trembled violently as he touched the screen, determined not to make a mistake. He sent the photos. Minutes later: a reply, payment transferred. Five thousand.

A call from Joo Doyoung came.

—We found it. Cross-checking shows the bypassed route matches the final path.

“Good work. From here on, scrape up every piece of information—use any means necessary.”

—Understood.

Call ended, Wooshin fixed his gaze upon the man designated as “boss.” The man felt as though a predator’s paw was on his chest pressing down.

He knew Wooshin was weighing him. All useful information had been extracted—now came the question of disposal. Which was more profitable: letting him live or erasing him?

Then their eyes met—and cold terror shot down the man’s spine. The hesitation was a lie. A calculated performance to test him. Realizing this, the man hurriedly bowed.

“My name is Park Sungjae. In this field, I’m known as an assassin-for-hire. As long as the money was right, I did anything.”

To reveal identity and crimes before the one who captured him—like opening one’s stomach and laying out the guts. But Wooshin did not accept so easily.

“All I need is your phone.”

You don’t even know who I am anyway. Wooshin added casually. The man slammed his forehead into the ground.

“You must show them we’re still functioning normally—for them to trust us with the next contract. Use me as insurance. Decide later whether to dispose of me.”

“……”

Wooshin turned to look at Sio. Feeling that gaze, Sio jolted violently, instinctively leaning away. He had never encountered someone like this in his life; his body moved on raw fear alone.

What’s going to happen to me now?

Unlike the hired killer, Sio had nothing—no leverage, no skill, nothing to offer but existence. He had endless questions and fierce desire to survive, but no ability to guarantee it. Begging alone would not sway this man. The despair thickened.

“You watched properly?”

Though the subject was unspoken, Sio nodded frantically. Over and over, like a broken doll.

“Never do bad things again. It’s pathetic to mistreat someone who played with you.”

The last sentence was confusing, but one thing was clear—do something like today again, and he would be killed like the others. Sio nodded so hard it almost looked like his head would roll off.

“Y-yes. Yes. Yes.”

Wooshin’s faint smirk held something like mockery.

“From this point on, you are dead.”

Live as a dead man? Still, it meant survival—Sio nodded at once, terrified to hesitate.

“But only until the investigation is finished.”

Sio’s eyes widened. There was a deadline.

He had sinned as much as those whose heads had been blown apart, and he would pay. Being forced to watch the skinning was not only punishment but a warning—the gruesome image would lurk in his subconscious forever.

Even obeying might not ensure life. Thoughts raced to his brother in the hospital. If he lived, he wanted to see him again—

But would his brother survive that long? The treatment money was gone. Just as relief touched him, reality crashed back like a tidal wave.

“For now, don’t worry about your brother.”

Bloodshot eyes jerked toward Wooshin. He hadn’t expected him to mention his brother. With a stunned mind, Sio mouthed the simplest words:

“Th-thank… thank you…”

But Wooshin did not listen. His cold gaze cut away, and he grabbed Sio by the nape, shoving him toward Suho.

“He’ll explain the rest.”

Wooshin fulfilled his promise to Sio swiftly and methodically. First, Im Sehan was ordered to secure a safe residence. Then, a guard disguised as a caregiver was assigned to Sio’s brother. Sio himself would contact his brother to ease suspicion.

The temporary residence was arranged quickly. It was no better than a detention cell, yet living mattered more than comfort.

By the time Sehan arrived to report, Sio’s eyes were still swollen and bruises mottled his cheeks, yet tears had already dried. When told to call his brother, he scrubbed the wetness from his face, straightened his voice and breathing, and answered like nothing had happened. Upon hearing his brother’s voice, he laughed weakly.

“It’ll be about a month. No, no, nothing dangerous. That’s why it’s long. I’ll call every other day, so don’t worry. Yes. Really. Mm-hm. I miss you too. No, I love you more.”

He used every second of the allotted ten-minute call. When he hung up, he swallowed his tears. With a new purpose—to live and see his brother—he did not cry aloud again.

Sehan calmly explained his instructions. As Wooshin had said: remain isolated and quiet until the investigation ended. His gentle tone and precise explanation soothed Sio, still raw from the gutter he’d crawled out of.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He bowed repeatedly to Sehan, then to Wooshin—who stood at a distance, occupied. He seemed ready to kneel if asked.

Lee Yeonwoo couldn’t even say goodbye to Sio. Wooshin had ordered him not to stray more than three steps away. So all Yeonwoo could do, when Sio looked at him in shock, was silently mouth: I’ll tell you everything later.