Snake Venom Ch 113

Chapter 113

Im Sehan lifted his head, casting a glance at the cloudless, clear sky. The faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips deepened.

The convenience-store bag in his hand felt heavy. Triangle kimbap and drinks—nothing extravagant, but a welcome bite for teammates who surely had skipped breakfast. Had he woken up earlier, he would’ve stopped by a restaurant and packed something heartier—but oversleeping ruined that plan.

On a winter morning commute alone, the sunlight felt unusually clean. The distant forest still bristled with bare branches, and the cold air pricked the nose as sharply as ever, yet there was a strange illusion of spring approaching. Perhaps it was the hope that the case was nearing its end.

Which meant, naturally, that his vacation must be at least a full month.

His steps were buoyant as he entered the building. The plastic bag rustled in time with his light stride.

Opening the office door, silence greeted him. Not an unfamiliar quiet—this level of stillness meant the team, having burned through the night, was still dead asleep. Sure enough, a low snore emerged from a corner like background noise.

Moving quietly, Sehan eased the door open wider, hugging the bag close to keep it from rustling as he tiptoed inside.

Near the break area, Jung Suho lay on the folding cot, limbs splayed out. The cot was too small for his size; his arms and legs spilled over the edges by a handspan each. He was sleeping so deeply he even drooled. Sehan’s gaze shifted. On the couch corner, Joo Doyoung was curled up, fast asleep.

He checked the time. Still early—no need to wake them yet.

The only reason he could start his morning first was thanks to them.

The moment yesterday’s mission ended, he had reviewed and discarded the existing Shin Junseong intel per Cheon Wooshin’s orders. The information Yeonwoo had brought back was shocking—and thrilling. Fueled by adrenaline, he forgot to eat and chased the data trail until he felt a sudden warmth under his nose. When he wiped it absentmindedly, his fingertips came back damp. A nosebleed.

Huh… look at that. I’m bleeding.

Even if it was the result of doing work meant for two or three people, he’d never gotten a nosebleed before—not once, despite countless all-nighters and forced marches. His stamina was nearly on par with Suho’s. So perhaps that was why, staring at his blood-stained hand, his eyes gleamed subtly.

Finally, I can brag about suffering for once. Alright—vacation, minimum one month.

He had celebrated internally and calmly stuffed tissue into his nose when Doyoung jolted awake and shouted,

“Fuck—don’t tell me I’m burying someone here today? I’m sick of corpse smell!”

The noise drew Suho’s head from behind a monitor. Seeing Sehan wiping his nose, Suho remarked gravely,

“So that’s your cheat mode, huh.”

Not a hint of concern in his tone.

In the end, they practically kicked him out to rest. His protests—You guys are overworking too—held no sway.

Suho still had to assemble the arrest team. Doyoung needed to hack the club’s internal security and recalibrate things for the op. Considering they had taken on Sehan’s work as well, their sleepless night was inevitable.

Sehan looked fondly at his collapsed teammates. Thanks to them, he arrived fresh-minded. He offered them a silent bow of gratitude, promising himself he’d return the favor someday. Then he sat at the computer and scanned the files they had organized overnight.

He hadn’t doubted their work, but it was polished enough for an immediate briefing. His gaze softened toward the curled-up Doyoung—once a prickly street kid, now grown into someone who could hold his own anywhere.

He kept the structure intact and only refined the flow for clarity. When he checked the clock again, thirty minutes had passed. Stretching, he took a breath. Wooshin would arrive soon. Time to wake Doyoung first.

“Get up.”

Warm, neither loud nor soft. With a small groan, Doyoung twisted under the blanket. His scrunched brows and sleep-puffed face made him look like a normal young man for once.

“I bought banana milk.”

Doyoung paused, then croaked,

“How many.”

“Three.”

He slowly sat up, raking a hand through his messy hair, rubbing his eyes. Sehan moved to Suho next and promptly kicked the cot.

“Private Jung Suho!”

Suho shot up, barking his rank and name, posture perfect despite just waking. Realizing it was Sehan, he sagged and yawned wide. Even grumbling, he habitually folded the cot and tidied the bedding.

Sehan grinned, unpacking the food onto the table. That was when the office door opened—Wooshin and Yeonwoo had arrived.

At Wooshin’s entrance, the room shifted. Sehan and Suho immediately straightened and bowed. Even drowsy Doyoung scrambled up to offer a stiff bow.

Wooshin held two heavy bags, and Yeonwoo, who followed him in, carried coffee and a paper bag—likely desserts.

“Guess the triangle kimbap will be for snacks then.”

While Sehan graciously stepped aside with his food, Doyoung jammed a straw into his banana milk. Freshly washed, Suho asked Yeonwoo,

“How was seeing Shin Junseong in person?”

Toothbrush in his mouth, his words slurred but still understandable. Yeonwoo scratched his nape, hesitant.

“Uh, just….”

Sehan quickly jabbed Suho’s side.

“Why ask that? He’s a bastard, that’s all. Anyway, did you sleep well? Big day yesterday, right?”

“Ah—no, I mean yes… yes, I slept well.”

Yeonwoo’s gaze lowered toward the floor, shoulders shrinking. Was he still that easily flustered? Hopefully things ended peacefully.

“Uh…?”

Then Yeonwoo looked up. Sehan’s attention followed.

He was looking at Wooshin. After a quiet breath, Yeonwoo approached him without hesitation. The confident strides turned shy as he neared. He murmured something, and Wooshin listened seriously.

Their movements were so natural it drew Sehan’s eye. Wooshin nodded lightly.

“Alright.”

When Wooshin lifted his head again, Yeonwoo had already stepped back. His faintly flushed face held an awkward mix of embarrassment and shyness. Now that he thought about it, they had communicated like this before. What had they said? Judging by their atmosphere, they must’ve reconciled…

Just as that thought passed, Wooshin lifted his gaze—straight at Sehan. It was a look Sehan had never seen from him.

…What? Do you have something to say—

He swallowed the rest. An instinctive alarm rang. Showing confusion or voicing the question felt wrong—dangerous, even. A survival instinct honed over years in the field.

So Sehan smiled, innocent and harmless, shoulders lifted as though surrendering.

“We’ll start the briefing after breakfast.”

Correct answer, apparently.

This briefing was Sehan’s. Standing before the screen, he swept his gaze over the team.

“Well then.”

As his low tone fell, tension rippled outward. He clicked the remote. Shin Junseong’s photo appeared.

“I was honestly shocked to learn he’s a hybrid.”

The reinvestigation revealed almost nothing new. Born in the worst slums, he clawed up through drug trafficking and became boss in under a decade. How he ran the business, expanded territory, traded, his habits and temperament—they reviewed everything from scratch, yet it was a tedious loop of what they already knew.

But then, after digging relentlessly through slum data, Doyoung found the first signs of fabrication. Approaching the problem assuming something was wrong had paid off.