Snake Venom Ch 62

Chapter 62

‘Aside from sometimes acting like a kid, he’s actually a decent guy. I mean, he is just a kid. He’s barely twenty, I think.’

This must’ve been what Im Sehan meant. Barely twenty—an age when going through the same trauma would naturally leave a deeper scar. Judging by how fiercely he looks after those he considers his own, he must be the kind of person who gets deeply attached. Though he’s bristling with hostility now, he might actually have a surprisingly tender heart.

Yeonwoo, who had speculated this inwardly, continued speaking. This was one thing he wanted to set straight.

“And I’m not an object.”

Yeonwoo briefly held his breath, lightly flicked his bangs, and looked down at the floor. By the time his gaze met Ju Doyoung’s, the momentary confusion that had flickered across his face had already settled. Yeonwoo’s composed voice split through the hallway.

“I’m a dog.”

The team leader’s dog. He feeds me on time and even takes me for walks. He’s handsome, competent, deep, and above all, dependable. I’ve decided to stay that way until the team leader says otherwise.

Openly confining himself to that role, Yeonwoo smiled.

Ju Doyoung fled into the office like he was running away. He looked a little shocked. As Yeonwoo stood lingering outside the office door, he wondered if Doyoung wasn’t even more of a kid than he’d thought. Though he didn’t know what Doyoung was feeling, he figured it was best to give him time to cool off.

‘Before you came, the half-blood we used to work with stabbed us in the back. Leaked internal info and even set fire to the office—we almost died. Team Leader especially, he nearly died for real. The leak led to an ambush by killers.’

If Chun Wooshin had almost died, it couldn’t have been a minor incident.

‘After everything we did for him.’

There’s no way someone as formidable as Chun Wooshin would’ve been taken down unless it was a real betrayal.

Even humans, not just half-bloods, betray. Of course, half-bloods were more likely to be tempted. That’s why people click their tongues in disapproval whenever half-bloods are involved—because they’re just as greedy as humans but with clear Imits on what they have and can gain.

Half-bloods with excessive ambition often lived through unprincipled means—exploiting the weak and clinging to the powerful. Yeonwoo had no choice but to live among such people ever since he was born. If not for his grandmother, he might have believed that was the most profitable way to live.

‘Doing something you’re ashamed of is the same as denying yourself. Remember that when you’re standing at a crossroads.’

That’s why I must be different. At least when it comes to trust—that’s one thing Yeonwoo had confidence in.

“……”

Yeonwoo abruptly stopped thinking and stared blankly at the floor. One of the laces on his worn-out sneakers had come loose.

‘I should tie it again.’

It was during such a trivial moment that his pocket buzzed. Could it be Chun Wooshin contacting him? Hastily pulling out his phone, the screen displayed the name ‘Lee Seonkyung.’

The call was actually from one of Seolkyung’s alternate numbers. This number was harder to tap, a safeguard meant to maintain secrets Chun Wooshin didn’t know. The name Lee Seonkyung had been chosen for its similarity to Seolkyung—something easy to recall.

It didn’t feel right to take the call here. Yeonwoo turned toward the elevator instead. As he watched the screen switch to a missed call, he pressed the button to the ground floor.

He deliberately exited the building before tapping the call button. Instead of finding a quiet spot, he opted to blend into the noise. Even as the dialing tone rang out, several people passed by him. Snippets of everyday conversation—something he rarely enjoyed anymore—naturally filtered into his ears.

Though Seolkyung also received Chun Wooshin’s biometric data, the kind of feedback that couldn’t be expressed in numbers was Yeonwoo’s responsibility. Even if it was only for a short while, Seolkyung preferred to hear things firsthand.

– I heard the rough details from Wooshin.

Her voice was dry and businesslike. It signaled that this wasn’t the time for kind greetings or small talk. Yeonwoo adjusted to her tone accordingly.

As she requested, he went straight to the point, relaying Chun Wooshin’s condition during the side effects as thoroughly and concisely as possible. His face flushed when recounting the various efforts he made to restrain that reckless man. Though he’d tried hard to forget those memories, especially the ones in the bathroom, Yeonwoo reported them faithfully. He hadn’t forgotten how important they were for her evaluation.

Of course, some omissions and edits were unavoidable. The lewd jokes and mortifying scuffles Chun Wooshin had so casually thrown out—just remembering them made Yeonwoo dizzy.

– Cognitively, he seems surprisingly normal.

As expected, Seolkyung focused solely on the symptoms. What intrigued her most was how Chun Wooshin, even while losing control, still gave orders to the team and put himself to sleep.

– He definitely exhibits different patterns from past addicts. The fact that his episodes are relatively mild is very fortunate, for now.

Her cold, clinical assessments—which ignored both Yeonwoo’s emotions and the treatment he received from Chun Wooshin—could have sounded cruel. But to Yeonwoo, who often clutched his head from the memories of their time together, her detachment was a relief.

– The extra suppressant we administered at the right time seems to have worked.

Seolkyung added that this was likely why there hadn’t been any blackouts.

She considered most of Chun Wooshin’s mitigated symptoms to be positive indicators. It meant Yeonwoo’s efforts hadn’t been in vain.

Toward the end of the call, her voice wavered slightly as she asked him—perhaps temporarily—to continue doing his best. Though she’d kept her composure and acted strict, she too must’ve been under immense stress.

“So, if I may…”

– Yes?

Yeonwoo brought up a question he hadn’t thought much of when Seolkyung first proposed it. His conversation with Ju Doyoung had sparked the curiosity.

“Is it possible he might remember things later that he doesn’t recall right now?”

There was a brief pause before Seolkyung answered. Her voice was steady again, as if she hadn’t faltered moments ago.

– That would be better. It would mean the addicted portion of his brain is either recovering or adapting.

And her answer was just as Yeonwoo had vaguely expected.

– We won’t know exactly how or when the memories will resurface, but an unstable state is still far better than total brain damage. That way, there’s still a path forward.

“…….”

Yeonwoo lowered his gaze, trying to accept it calmly. A breeze swept past. The air that grazed his skin was sharp like a blade.

If Chun Wooshin finds out—if he learns what he did and the people who manipulated him into doing it…

– I’m sorry.

Yeonwoo knew what she meant. Seolkyung hadn’t anticipated that part, or perhaps she had and did it anyway because otherwise, they couldn’t have moved forward. The same was true for Yeonwoo. His concern for Chun Wooshin had made him turn a blind eye to certain things on purpose. Suddenly, Ju Doyoung’s pointed warning echoed in his head.

‘If you lie to our team leader, I’ll kill you myself next time.’

Ah, that’s right. I’ve already lied.

Regardless of the intent, Yeonwoo had already deceived Chun Wooshin.

– He’ll definitely be angry, but he’ll understand. If it’s Wooshin, I believe he will.

“Yes.”

Yeonwoo answered nonchalantly for Seolkyung’s sake, who was clearly anxious in the silence, but inside, he felt bitter. He still believed the lie was necessary. Even now, he had no regrets because he’d thought it was the best choice at the time.

He was just a little afraid—that the shock Chun Wooshin would feel might reopen wounds that had barely begun to heal.

But it was too late to undo anything now. He had made his choice; it was time to take responsibility. Yeonwoo accepted the sharp pangs in his left chest as his own. Guilt was inevitable when deceiving someone like Chun Wooshin.

– Yeonwoo.

She was the one clinging to the call from the other end. Strong and capable, but fragile from so many past wounds. A woman who had to grow several times stronger after the death of someone she loved. Yeonwoo respected and supported the path she’d chosen.

“You have to buy me something delicious.”

– …….

Only her breathing came through. He could picture how tense she must be. Yeonwoo deliberately acted casual.

“Thanks to the team leader, my taste’s gotten pretty refined lately, so you’d better be prepared.”

– Don’t worry about that. I’ll buy you everything. I’ve got plenty of money. I’ve just been hoarding it since I have nowhere to spend it.

She sounded so nervous that even boasting about her wealth was kind of adorable.

With a small smile, Yeonwoo checked the biometric gear on his wrist. Heart rate and body temperature—both within safe range. Now it was time to check his scent directly.

“No need, I’m fine as I am.”

He’d never done it expecting a reward in the first place.