Snake Venom Ch 17

Chapter 17

“Lee Yeonwoo-ssi, you participated in the hunting ground, an inhumane murder game, to repay an illegal loan. Is that correct?”

“…Yes.”

The hesitation in his answer was due to the fact that even the word ‘voluntary’ wouldn’t have sounded out of place.

“According to your statement, charges of assault and murder are not acknowledged, so the disciplinary review will be simplified… Shit, does that sound right?”

Jung Gisik barked at the young man standing behind him. The youth quickly appeased him with the words he wanted to hear, replying, “It doesn’t make sense, sir.”

Letting out a breath, Jung Gisik continued.

“Once the review is over, you’ll serve the sentence proportionate to the charges upheld. Even if the charges are dropped, you’ll still be assigned Risk Level 1 for three years.”

Yeonwoo’s expression, who had been listening to Jung Gisik’s words without missing a beat, suddenly changed as though he had just heard something he shouldn’t have.

“Risk Level 1?”

He asked again in disbelief, and Jung Gisik scratched his ear.

“Didn’t I say I’d only explain once? Anyway, since you’ll be assigned Risk Level 1, I, as the team leader, will be your supervisor.”

Yeonwoo took the file tossed onto his lap and began reading the order that Jung Gisik had referred to. Unlike Jung Gisik, the document wasn’t rude or arrogant, but the words it contained were undeniably true. Unable to believe it even as he read, Yeonwoo went over the lines again and again.

‘What the hell is this….’

Risk levels were originally designated to manage half-bloods on the verge of complete transformation or those who had committed violent crimes. Just being assigned a risk level was already alarming, and yet Level 1? Yeonwoo let out a hollow laugh.

It was akin to attaching an electronic ankle monitor to a sex offender. He would be relocated from his original residence to a designated area, where his every move would be monitored. His identification and even local government records would be branded with this status, making normal social activity nearly impossible. Even lowering the level required a thorough review, and if he caused any trouble in the meantime, the period could be extended.

It was, in every way, an invisible prison—living like a criminal. Yeonwoo tilted his head in disbelief. Just being present at a crime scene warranted such treatment?

“Why am I being assigned a level even though I have no charges and the review hasn’t concluded? I don’t understand.”

“What’s so hard to understand?”

Jung Gisik snorted derisively.

“You’re a mosaic(half human) hybrid, aren’t you?”

“……”

“Article 5, Section 7 of the Special Hybrid Act: Hybrids with high potential to cause social disturbance, especially mosaic hybrids, can be subjected to enhanced punishment depending on the severity of the crime. Preventive measures also apply.”

So this is all because I’m a mosaic hybrid?

Yeonwoo felt as if he had been struck on the back of the head. It was even more shocking than when President Park had first told him the amount of debt he owed. Jung Gisik looked at the stunned Yeonwoo with a scornful gaze.

“And sure, your record may say ‘no charges,’ but let’s be real—how are we supposed to know what you did to survive in there? Do you even know how vicious Sodome is? It’s not just petty theft or fraud we’re talking about.”

Of course, he knew.

“Over twenty unidentified corpses were found around that building. Who knows how many of them died due to your neglect. Can you even be sure you took your suppressants properly in there? You realize it’s creepier if you were sane the whole time, right?”

Neglect? How could that be held against him? It sounded like unless he had died pitifully like the others, he was presumed guilty. Blaming it on the suppressants was absurd. Even knowing it would increase his debt, Yeonwoo had never missed a dose. He feared turning into a monster. He feared losing his way back. And yet Jung Gisik described those desperate days as “creepy.”

“Why the hell did you borrow that kind of money in the first place? If you had just lived properly, none of this would’ve happened. I hate people like you the most. Fucked-up blood with a fucked-up mindset. And then you whine about being wronged when things go south. You don’t even know your place.”

Jung Gisik had already branded Yeonwoo a criminal, treating him however he pleased. No, more likely, he was unleashing all his built-up hatred and prejudice toward half-bloods onto Yeonwoo.

Suddenly, Yeonwoo recalled a childhood memory of being beaten by local kids. Even though he had been the victim, he was treated as the perpetrator and had pounded his chest in frustration. They had hurled insults at him for being a mosaic hybrid, and that memory remained vivid. How could this feel so similar? Yeonwoo had merely tried to live quietly, like a wildflower, unnoticed—and yet they always found a way to stab him, to break him. The exclusion felt eerily familiar.

But the grandmother who had once stood upright and protected him was gone now.

Now he understood. The only reason he had been able to live the way he had despite being a mosaic hybrid was because he had no flaws back then. With nothing to fault, they had tolerated his presence on the margins.

But the Yeonwoo from that brutal crime scene was different. There wasn’t even a category for victims like him. He was just a potential criminal who had turned a blind eye to murder. He no longer fit the criteria for ‘normal,’ and thus could be cast out at any moment like a defective product.

So this was the price of surviving.

Yeonwoo thought of a few other mosaic hybrids he knew. Every single one of them lived hidden away, like bugs avoiding the light.

Come to think of it, had any of them ever committed a major crime? The inequality he had only vaguely sensed as a child now loomed over him like a massive wall and boulder. He hadn’t even voiced his grievances because he had been crushed beneath an unfair and heartless authority. Trying not to be a burden, trying not to be disadvantaged further—this time, it was Yeonwoo’s turn.

He looked down at his wrist. His eyes stung. The metal shackle gleamed coldly, no different from the one President Park had once placed on him.

Jung Gisik stood, brushing off his pants.

“We humans do this because we’re scared of half-bloods like you. So if you’re upset, blame your own blood.”

For someone claiming to be afraid, his words betrayed no fear whatsoever. As Jung Gisik clasped his hands behind his back and walked away, two young men pulled Yeonwoo to his feet.

A world where humans and beasts coexisted. Among them, the ruling class consisted of elite humans and pure-blooded half-bloods, while the oppressed class was made up of hybrid half-bloods and poor, powerless humans. There had long been a hierarchy and deeply rooted discrimination between these groups.

It began after the five-year war between humans and half-bloods. Certain hybrids, blamed for sparking the war, were forced into subjugation within the lower class.

After the war, hybrids who struggled to control their primal instincts became objects of hatred for the pure-bloods, already obsessed with eugenics, and targets of suspicion for humans. Could there be any discrimination more brutal than one rooted in genetic limitations? It was a scar that could never be erased unless one was reborn.

This caste system—built on punishment and prejudice—had been in place long before Yeonwoo was born, and by the time he entered the world, it had become doctrine. One could not cross borders without authorization, and invisible ceilings stifled social mobility. Punishments for anti-social behavior were especially harsh. The implicit discrimination embedded in daily life was too exhausting to list in full.

Even among hybrids, a new hierarchy had formed with the emergence of the unique mosaic type.

Seen as less dangerous and more predictable, and significantly fewer in number, mosaic hybrids became the scapegoats for the resentment borne by other hybrids—just as the pure-bloods had looked down on the hybrids. The inferior humans acted the same. Unable to look upward, they amused themselves by trampling those below. This was why history, steeped in lust for power and victimhood, continued to repeat itself.

‘Article 5, Section 7 of the Special half-blood Act: Hybrids with high potential to cause social disturbance, especially mosaic hybrids, can be subjected to enhanced punishment depending on the severity of the crime. Preventive measures also apply.’

You cannot change the blood that runs through your veins. No matter how human you look, the fact that your nature is beastly does not change.

‘We humans do this because we’re scared of half-bloods like you. So if you’re upset, blame your own blood.’

Thirteen years had passed since Yeonwoo had manifested as a mosaic hybrid. To him, the world was nothing more than a bystander with a knife—ready to strike at any time, no more, no less.

Clang! The sound of the cell door closing was as heavy as it was loud.

As Yeonwoo entered the holding cell, all eyes briefly turned to him.

But it only lasted a moment. The stifled curiosity and baseless hostility quickly dissipated as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, Yeonwoo felt as though what little was left of his consciousness was spinning out of control. The rainbow-colored hair, tattoos, and piercings were dazzling and painful to look at. The overpowering scent of perfume was so strong it nearly numbed his nose. On top of that, the sheer dissonance of not understanding why he was there made his throat dry.

He stood blankly for a while, unable to move.

But standing there wouldn’t make things any better. Yeonwoo lightly wiped his nose and settled into a corner.