Snake Venom Ch 96

Chapter 96

 

Love, he had imagined, would be far fluffier, far more vibrantly alive: a feeling so vivid that the instant it was cradled in the heart one would recognize it, an irrepressible, dynamic blaze impossible to miss. Yet the love Lee Yeonwoo first encountered was far quieter, far sturdier than anticipated. It had taken root long before he noticed, too late to deny, an irresistible sentiment that offered no grievance, no resistance, not even the sting of defeat—only a serene helplessness that settled the moment recognition dawned.

 

“What is it?”

 

How must his face have looked? Cheon Wooshin’s gaze, which had thrown only arid glances from yesterday until now, sharpened slightly toward him.

 

Nothing would change. Even if time rewound, he would choose the same path, and the wounds inflicted on Cheon Wooshin could not be undone.

 

Lee Yeonwoo smoothed his expression with calm detachment. He steadied the quivering corners of his mouth and straightened the gaze that had briefly twisted away.

 

This might be the final operation. The puzzle pieces were falling into place. Lee Yeonwoo met Cheon Wooshin’s intent scrutiny head-on. He wanted to witness the completed picture beside this man.

 

Perhaps it seemed brazen. But if only he could do it…

 

Lee Yeonwoo opened his mouth.

 

“I want to do it.”

 

The words left his lips, and in that instant he understood with crystalline certainty the feelings he harbored for Cheon Wooshin. When had the tender selfishness of wishing to remain by his side forever begun to eclipse the longing to return home? A beautiful, gentle person. Someone who inspired fear and admiration in equal measure. Every angle seemed to radiate light; at times it was hard to look away, so exquisite was he.

 

“No one else could do it.”

 

Confident, Lee Yeonwoo had never been more grateful for his abilities than today. Though the deceiver in him faced an ending, his sense of smell—trusted by every teammate—remained in full force. How fortunate to indulge greed with a talent that had once caused only discomfort.

 

Despite Lee Yeonwoo’s persuasion, Cheon Wooshin said nothing. He showed neither affirmation nor denial, simply fixing his gaze on the man before him in tranquil stillness.

 

He would refuse again, surely. Lee Yeonwoo took one step closer, looking up.

 

“Please let me.”

 

The low voice dripped with undisguised desperation.

 

“If this operation succeeds, we can truly end it. Use me just a little longer.”

 

Lee Yeonwoo had little to offer. He knew better than anyone that his skills, his time, even the sincerity he could extend were insufficient. That was why the plea burned hotter. Even for a fleeting moment, he wanted to be of some small help to those who trusted and kept him close. He poured devotion into meager talent, hoping the sincerity alone might reach them. If only it could lighten Cheon Wooshin’s burden, even slightly. If it could grant him peace a single day sooner. Words of apology could not heal him. Shamelessly, Lee Yeonwoo sought permission.

 

The future he had habitually sketched with Cheon Wooshin—that “someday”—had been arrogance and deception to hope for it. Thus, he voiced the words he least wanted yet most needed to say, in his own voice.

 

“Once this operation ends, I’ll disappear.”

 

At that, a hairline fracture appeared on Cheon Wooshin’s porcelain-smooth face. His brow twitched; a feral aura surged. From the quiet yet unmistakable reaction, Lee Yeonwoo sensed the scales tipping.

 

A man so kind and clever would weigh it coldly. *Please choose my usefulness.* Bowing deeply in fervent hope, Lee Yeonwoo bit his lip. The heart he had already surrendered clawed sharply across his chest once more.

 

He had hurt the person he loved.

 

Staring at the floor, Lee Yeonwoo wanted to smash his head against it.

 

—

 

Perhaps thirty minutes had passed since Lee Yeonwoo’s return. Jeong Suho voiced concern that it was taking longer than expected when the office door opened. Cheon Wooshin entered cloaked in the acrid scent of cigarettes.

 

For Lee Yeonwoo’s sake—who needed to track scents—Cheon Wooshin had long ceased layering artificial fragrances. Cigarettes above all. Lee Yeonwoo had believed he never smoked. How much anguish must have driven a non-smoker to chain-smoke? The harsh tobacco reek matched the rough edge in his presence; the entire team held its breath.

 

Unbuttoning one shirt cuff, Cheon Wooshin approached the table. The gesture alone tightened the air. He tapped the screen twice.

 

“Pull up the schedule.”

 

The moment the words fell, Ju Doyoung swiftly displayed the club’s event calendar. Cheon Wooshin studied it in silence, then pointed to a date—two weeks hence. The club’s fourth-anniversary party.

 

“Promotion has already begun on a grand scale.”

 

Ju Doyoung added; Cheon Wooshin nodded, as though anticipated. His voice was calm yet razor-sharp.

 

“With heavy promotional intent, external attendance will surge. Security will increase, but focus will scatter—creating more vulnerabilities.”

 

Cheon Wooshin stroked his chin. Half-lidded eyes shifted from the screen to Lee Yeonwoo.

 

“The drug scent will be the same, won’t it?”

 

Alcohol, music, lights, drugs—patrons would indulge as they pleased; the air would thicken with potent odors. On that night, drug smells would seem not suspicious but part of the festivities.

 

If production was planned, the enemy would exploit the date. Especially for mass output, they would choose it without fail. Scent, sound, movement—all would blend into the party’s chaos. Once again, Cheon Wooshin advocated piercing the enemy’s gaps with speed.

 

“Let’s use the informant after a long while.”

 

From his work phone, Cheon Wooshin located Shin Junseong’s number.

 

—

 

The first act upon taking the viper-venom case was forging ties with Shin Junseong—drug dealer and underworld informant.

 

Shin Junseong trafficked not only diverse narcotics but information, converting everything to currency with innate mercantile flair. Meeting places varied: ear-splitting clubs to deathly silent sealed rooms. The sole constant—half-human, half-beast revelers writhing naked in drug haze.

 

Behaving as though a screw were loose, indulging in erratic caprice, Shin Junseong demanded face-to-face deals as his only condition. He acknowledged no reality without eye contact. Regardless of counterpart, he ushered them into his chosen space and commenced trading—then toyed with them through varied provocations, testing reactions like a game.

 

Yet to dismiss it as mere eccentricity ignored the subtle, meticulous intent beneath. Poking vulnerabilities to better conceal himself and efficiently extract desires mirrored tactics Cheon Wooshin often employed. Shin Junseong used perverse lust and deviant acts as blindfolds. The childish-boy facade was likely calculated to the last detail.

 

Each encounter, Cheon Wooshin wore a silicone mask. A passably affable face: proxy for a massive broker sprinkling goods in developing or conflict zones for profit. An East-Asian male obsessively clean in execution due to mysophobia—one of countless personas Cheon Wooshin had crafted.

 

He fed Shin Junseong fact-based lies without restraint, letting the man probe and relax. Countless criminals had already been coerced, allied, blackmailed—yielding precious intel. Especially data on undeveloped-region access permits or border-security systems known only to National Security—sweet bait for a market-hungry Shin Junseong.

 

Over months, the relationship evolved to personal-number calls.

 

Cheon Wooshin pressed the silicone skin indifferently. Slightly cooler than flesh yet eerily lifelike. He opened his mouth; the perfectly adhered layer moved without dissonance.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Rising, Cheon Wooshin faced the mirror: a man of ordinary, neat impression—not the original. He thanked the technician briefly and began buttoning his shirt.

 

Likewise bare-torsoed, Lee Yeonwoo was in final stages. Despite hours seated motionless, he held his back ramrod straight, betraying no fatigue—tension from unfamiliar surroundings and novel circumstances.

 

Noticing Cheon Wooshin’s gaze belatedly, Lee Yeonwoo glanced sideways. Habitually starting to bite his lip, he swallowed instead; the meticulously applied silicone at his throat rippled naturally.