Snake Venom Ch 84

Chapter 84

Cheon Wooshin ordered Joo Doyoung to discreetly investigate the physical location tied to the final bank account they had traced. The sole kidnapper left alive was detained for later use—his survival ensured by recognizing his place and bowing his head at the right moment. He was handed over to Jung Suho, given basic emergency treatment, and tossed into the backseat like baggage.

Everything had been directed and concluded by Cheon Wooshin. From the center of the crime scene, he assessed the weight and urgency of each task and commanded his team and support staff accordingly.

Until the special incident-response unit arrived, he organized the scene and coordinated the next steps with Suho. He acted as though no side effects had ever occurred. Sharp, proud, seasoned, and composed—he was indistinguishable from the Cheon Wooshin they all knew. Flawlessly so.

Yet Lee Yeonwoo, stationed at his side, could not calm his nerves. The scent wafting from Cheon Wooshin did not intensify, nor did it fade—it flowed steadily, as though calibrated to stimulate Yeonwoo alone. That precariously perfect control gnawed at him. Only Yeonwoo perceived its strain.

In another sense, it was awe-inspiring. How could a human regulate scent so precisely? He seemed more skillful than before. Even a pureblood esper might fail to detect his abnormality.

Each time Yeonwoo felt that eerie mastery, a disquiet he had never known before rippled through him—an overwhelming presence and faint reverence toward someone not even his kind. It was baffling and thrilling in equal measure. Impossible to explain.

If Seolkyung could see Wooshin now, what would she think? Would she call this progress? Yeonwoo’s eyes wandered longingly toward the phone tucked inside Wooshin’s jacket—utterly out of reach.

He had failed not only to seize the reins, but even to snatch away the knife Wooshin held. His bold persuasion was, at its core, nothing but desperate begging. He had matched Wooshin’s madness to catch his interest, secured a promise—but a loose verbal vow could be discarded at any moment. Especially by a monster whose mind was heating up.

So everything must be finished before Wooshin’s condition slipped again. Watching the second hand sweep across his wristwatch, Yeonwoo prayed the response unit would arrive soon.

At last, emergency warning lights flashed across the road as the unit rolled in—one truck, one van, and a sedan. Workers rushed out, filling the scene with noise and movement.

As bodies were collected and debris cleared, Wooshin drew in a deep breath. If this were the real Wooshin, Yeonwoo would have been relieved, thinking he was finally exhaling tension. Instead, the slow expansion of his chest and the shadowed calm of his eyes only made Yeonwoo uneasy. He looked almost like a half-human reading the air through scent.

Unable to endure any longer, Yeonwoo tugged at his jacket. He intended to plead once more for him to take a suppressant.

“Um… Team Leader.”

Wooshin looked down at him. In the slow lift of his eyes, Yeonwoo glimpsed meticulously concealed boredom and irritation. Glancing around at those nearby, Yeonwoo whispered anxiously:

“I… I know you already understand what I want to say…”

Before he could finish, Wooshin bent closer. His solid neck and sharply cut jaw filled Yeonwoo’s vision.

“Yes, I already know.”

Wooshin lowered his gaze. Beneath gleaming lashes, his black eyes glimmered with arrogant coldness.

“Shut up.”

“……”

The voice that shattered Yeonwoo’s hopes was cruelly elegant. Of course. Foolish to imagine he had returned to himself. Yet alongside the disappointment, relief washed through him—relief that Wooshin hadn’t lost even more of himself.

“I did count, wondering if I could shoot every head here with the bullets I have.”

“……”

His nonchalant explanation killed all desire to argue. Yeonwoo glanced toward the busy unit staff and Suho helping them. If Wooshin saw them merely as balloons ready to be popped for amusement… his spine chilled.

Still, he could not simply do nothing. If this madman acted now, how could he stop him? Shoot his arm? Grab him from behind and jab a sedative into his neck? None of those scenarios held any real chance. But they might be his last.

As fevered possibilities tangled in his mind—

“I can see all that.”

Calm words, and Wooshin stepped half a pace closer. His scent struck Yeonwoo’s nose like a blow. The raw, vivid pressure crushed what resolve he had gathered.

“Stop scheming and worry about how you’re going to suck me off.”

“……”

Mocking his struggle, Wooshin reminded him of the bargain between them—a silent knife pressed to Yeonwoo’s throat. I took your bait. Now pay up. And do not dare try to flip the board.

Against someone like him, outmaneuvering was a joke. Yeonwoo kicked the asphalt lightly in frustration.

The only solace was that Wooshin still talked to him. His crude demand, as obscene as it was, meant he retained restraint—still operating within a warped logic, still tethered enough to bargain.

This altered Wooshin flaunted vulgar desire and cruelty openly, yet maintained rational boundaries. Yeonwoo had proposed a completely different kind of teamwork to him—and he would match him, play along, as long as it protected the man beneath the madness.

But seriously… how was he supposed to “suck” anything? And what exactly?

He tried to focus on the task—but his mind was a blank canyon of panic. Logic suggested narrowing down areas that could be called erogenous zones. Yet his imagination ran dry fast.

Searching for reference brought him back to the armory room—Wooshin’s heavy frame pinning him, that scent engulfing him. Yeonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to stretch. Even without supernatural ability, no one could read thoughts—but entertaining such ideas in public felt sacrilegious.

“……”

Tongues slick with saliva tracing swollen nipples; hands rough enough to make his hips tremble—he remembered. Even in heat, Wooshin had never been like that. The frantic hurry for release—different then, but here… here the pleasure had been of another breed. Burning memories licked at Yeonwoo’s mind.

His mouth dried. Not with thirst—heat, creeping up his spine. One more thought and he feared he would react shamelessly, here of all places.

Shame, dread, helplessness—yet beneath it all, unbearably, anticipation bloomed.

“…Ha.”

He must have caught Wooshin’s depravity like a contagion. Nothing else explained it.

Yeonwoo scrubbed his face, forcing his runaway thoughts back into order. No confusion. This wasn’t desire—just stress boiling over.

Then Wooshin’s arm slung around his shoulders, yanking him close. Their bodies collided. Yeonwoo flinched like a criminal caught mid-act.

“Pardon us.”

A pair of staff workers carrying a stretcher brushed past. Yeonwoo had nearly been struck.

Wooshin summoned his team:

“Doyoung, organize only the data you found. Suho, handle detainees with Im Sehan. Sehan, support Doyoung once the injectors are transferred. Rest first. Finish within two hours.”

His tone was cool, almost distant—but Yeonwoo knew.

“Meet again in ten hours.”

He knew because Wooshin’s scent—now an unmistakable pheromonal pressure—was fixed solely upon him, merciless and focused like a predator sighting prey.