Snake Venom Ch 11

Chapter 11

What on earth is he? Could he really be a psychopath? He kills without hesitation, and not only does he feel not even the slightest guilt, but his mechanical and precise actions are so detached that they almost seem boring. Now that the rules of the game have become unclear, unable to either escape or subdue the man, what kind of state will I be in when the game ends? I don’t want to end up a corpse here. Maybe I should do something now…

“No such thing.”

The man’s bored voice pierced Lee Yeonwoo’s thoughts. Startled, Yeonwoo lowered his eyes. The night vision goggles the man was wearing must be excellent—he seemed to be reading even the slightest change in Yeonwoo’s expression.

The man standing in front of the half-blood looked down.

“I won’t ask questions.”

His voice, as he twisted and removed the silencer, had dropped slightly. The half-blood, groaning and clutching his leg, suddenly shouted.

“Who the hell are you! Who sent you?!”

Bang! The raw crack of a gunshot rang out. The bullet grazed the half-blood’s arm. He threw his head back from the burning pain and screamed in agony.

At that moment, another participant leapt out from a corner, and the man eliminated him with a single shot, as if swatting a bug. As before, the bullet passed cleanly through the skull. The dull sound of the body collapsing followed, and the half-blood, dragging his limp arms and legs, crawled to the wall. He seemed to finally understand why he alone had been spared.

“I-I don’t know! I just did what the company told me to!”

Only then did the half-blood begin to spill something. The man, silently looking down at him, spoke again.

“Your company claimed it was a private commission.”

“You—You believe them? They’re the ones lying! How could I do all that alone?!”

The man briefly turned his eyes to the air, his tone still flat and emotionless.

“A no-name private errand agency breaking through Amseong’s security? That sounded more like a lie, so I asked your company first.”

His voice dropped slightly.

“Like this.”

Bang! The bullet tore through the half-blood’s remaining healthy leg.

“AAAAAAGH!”

Rolling on the ground in pain, the half-blood suddenly snapped his head up.

“I didn’t even know that building was theirs! Security? Was there even such a thing there? Besides—fuck! Can’t you tell I’ve been dumped too, just by looking at where I’ve ended up? What do you expect from a discarded piece?! I don’t know anything, damn it, I said I don’t know, you fucking bastard!”

Despite his outburst, the man remained calm. As the half-blood, panting and wild-eyed, glared up at him, the man finally spoke in a flat, lifeless tone.

“I’ll give you three seconds.”

This time, he pointed the gun at the man’s head. The half-blood inhaled sharply.

“That’s all I know. If you just spare me, I’ll live like I’m already dead.”

“One.”

It was clear the man didn’t care. The half-blood rolled his eyes briefly, then opened his mouth—he’d made up his mind.

“The down payment was fifty million. Another hundred million upon completion. And a black card.”

An astronomical sum, plus a black card granting access to S District—the world’s largest playground for the rich and powerful. No wonder he’d lost his head.

“They told me to call them D! The company initially said it was just a simple procurement job, but the details changed once I was assigned. The voice was altered—so I don’t even know the gender or age.”

“Two.”

“They said they’d handle everything. Even the drugs they injected—yeah, that’s right! It was like a narcotic, so there was no way I could report it. They told me not to worry.”

The man’s silence pressed him to continue. The half-blood stammered desperately.

“Time, place—everything was pre-arranged. All I had to do was inject the person in that room at that time. If I’d known it was this dangerous, I’d never have touched it! I didn’t think a major corporation would be involved…!”

“Where did you get the injection?”

“On the day of the job. At the subway station. The size was about this big—just a regular syringe. The principle was simple—just stab the needle anywhere into the body…! Please! That’s all I know!”

Pointing to his index finger, the half-blood suddenly broke down and begged. He had realized that no matter what he said, death was certain.

“If you think about it, I’m a victim too. I checked the payment and headed home, then woke up here. I swear it! Huuuh… Shit! Please just spare me. Don’t do this—spare me—!”

“Three.”

The half-blood’s forehead was pierced before he could finish. He hadn’t even closed his eyes. Bullets rained into his lifeless body. Bang, bang, bang, bang! The man walked toward the half-blood and fired repeatedly. Even then, as if it weren’t enough, he stood still, gun still pointed, unmoving for a while.

Staring down at the bullet-ridden corpse, the man muttered.

“What kind of person says ‘you fucking bastard’? When there are so many pretty words to choose from.”

He tilted his head back toward Lee Yeonwoo and asked,

“Don’t you think so?”

His tone and demeanor hadn’t changed at all, but Yeonwoo knew. The murderous aura he hadn’t sensed before, and the voice that had sunk lower than necessary—this man was extremely angry right now. No matter how Yeonwoo responded, the anger might come lashing out. As he mulled this over, he slightly flared his nostrils. The man’s faint scent had suddenly grown stronger.

But it must have been his imagination. A human couldn’t be like that. Yeonwoo attributed it to his own overly sharp sense of smell.

The man raised what he had been wearing slightly, then lowered it again.

“How did you manage to survive in a place like this until now?”

That, too, was not something he could answer easily. Revealing personal information to an unknown figure was like handing over every weapon he had left. If this man was working with President Park, it was even more dangerous. The moment he revealed himself, he’d become both a hostage and a weakness. Yeonwoo didn’t want to wander this hunting ground with his senses dulled. Even if his ability seemed trivial, handing it over himself would be a mistake.

There was still time before the game ended. Not knowing the man’s intentions, guessing how many bullets remained in his gun was as foolish as it got. With that accuracy, Yeonwoo could become a corpse at any moment.

“I…”

His tongue nearly froze under the focused stare, but he held firm and spoke.

“That’s a trade secret. I’m sorry.”

Yeonwoo chose to endure a bit longer. One word echoed in his mind: ransom. Ironically, the value placed on Yeonwoo like a commodity was now what protected his pride and life. Whatever the reason, he hoped that would continue—that the man would still find him useful until the game ended.

The man tilted his head at Yeonwoo’s unexpected answer. At the same time, a crackling noise echoed from somewhere in the ceiling. From the speaker, which had until now only blared its monotonous and grating whistle, a brief voice came through.

• All exits clear. We’re entering.

As soon as the voice cut off, overhead lights—previously unnoticed—blazed on all at once. The flood of light assaulted their eyes. Yeonwoo squinted, waiting for his vision to adjust, then opened his eyes slightly. The interior of the hunting ground slowly came into focus through the pale blur.

“……”

He had passed through it countless times, but never seen it properly. The interior was even more dilapidated and chaotic than he’d imagined. The windows were sealed with steel plates, blocking even a sliver of light. The paint on the cement walls had peeled off, and countless unknown stains were scattered across them. As Yeonwoo stared blankly into the dusty air above, his lost vision returned completely.

At the end of his now-clear sight, he saw the man—once just a silhouette—standing with his back to him. As Yeonwoo had expected, he removed his helmet and night vision goggles. He wore a black suit. He let the helmet drop with a thud and tousled his hair with the hand that wasn’t holding the pistol as he turned toward Yeonwoo.

“……”

Yeonwoo’s eyes followed the slow and quiet movement.

The first thing that caught his eye was the man’s long, narrow eyes. The smooth lines looked as if drawn with the sharp tip of a pen, and below them, his black pupils gazed downward without focus. Fatigue and indifference were layered indistinctly in his dark gaze beneath long lashes.

The man’s chest rose slowly. Then, as his low-saturation lips parted, a breath escaped. Even something as simple as an exhale seemed like a slow-motion video. At least, that’s how it looked to Yeonwoo.

He didn’t appear to be a pure East Asian. His sharp and handsome features were striking enough to pass for an actor, but the defined jaw and thick neck were distinctly masculine.

Everything about him—the calm demeanor that didn’t fit someone who had just slaughtered people, the expensive scent that made Yeonwoo feel embarrassed to even describe it, the nonchalant yet strangely tense atmosphere—threw Yeonwoo off so much that he could only blink.

The man’s eyes moved to Yeonwoo. His gaze didn’t carry much emotion or curiosity, but Yeonwoo hastily looked around. Suddenly, heat surged from below his neck. His heart gave a thud. He attributed it to anxiety and embarrassment, but then realized something.

It hadn’t been a whistle—it was a broadcast he had never heard before, and the lights had come on. Had the game ended? Or been suspended? Or had new conditions been added? While Yeonwoo was still lost in confusion, the sound of footsteps echoed in the distance.