Snake Venom Ch 71

Chapter 71

Cheon Wooshin lifted his eyes toward the window. In the meantime, the rain had strengthened, hard drops striking the small pane. Tap, tap— the sound of rain filling the quiet room was tinged with sorrow.

Cheon Sejun had been subjected to endless experiments in a place where even such a tiny window had not been allowed.

Cheon Wooshin lowered his gaze to the tubes and wires attached to his body with an expression emptied of emotion. It did not last long. Thoughts that served no purpose—why these were affixed to him, how long this would continue—were best severed before they grew teeth.

He remembered the eyes of the man who had been trapped inside a living corpse, begging to die. He remembered the silent vow he had made while meeting those eyes: that at the very least, his death would be returned to him.

Even if his limbs were cut away, his skin torn to shreds, and each step became unbearably precarious—he had reason to keep moving.

Knock, knock. His settled gaze shifted to the door. Through the small square cut into the upper part of the metal door—so small even an eye barely fit—he recognized the visitor by her eyes alone.

As expected, Seolkyung stepped through when the door opened. She greeted him from behind the transparent partition installed beside the inner door.

“Was it uncomfortable?”

This room beside the biometric monitoring lab was a prep chamber used to observe the physiological responses of hybrids. The only exit was the door through which she had entered and a narrow window scarcely three hand-spans wide; even then, one couldn’t leave without the administrator’s clearance.

“You were the one who asked for the data, remember.”

“Well, that’s true.”

Her playful smile implied her question had merely been courtesy. When he narrowed his eyes, her lips curved further. That smile—rarer now and all the more fragile for it—was part of what Cheon Sejun had once cherished so deeply.

Machines connected to Wooshin recorded him at fixed intervals. Skimming the printed results, Seolkyung slumped into a chair and flipped rapidly through the charts she had brought.

“Your liver enzymes spiked a little, but it’s within tolerance. To some degree, this can’t be helped.”

Meaning the test results showed no major anomaly—for the human Cheon Wooshin.

“You’re definitely unstable in the evenings, even if it’s not as severe as when you’re with Yeonwoo.”

Studying the brainwave graph, she touched her chin.

“But during sleep, you’re extremely stable.”

At least that was a relief. It meant he was safe, if only while unconscious.

“That’s probably thanks to Yeonwoo’s efforts. Yeonwoo is… well, I’ll refrain from saying too much for now. We don’t have anything conclusive yet.”

Looking back, his side effects had always flared between evening and night—coincidentally, always when Yeonwoo was present. The hypothesis that Yeonwoo might influence him had already been floated, however unlikely.

Influence. Hypothesis. Wooshin turned those words over in his mind. In truth, if one spoke only of influence—Yeonwoo had exerted more than enough of it already.

The investigation into Snake Venom his team spearheaded had been like a game of tag where the quarry slipped out of reach again and again, or like wandering a mirage-ridden maze with no visible exit. On top of that, the team leader himself had been poisoned, yet they did not yield. They had caught Mr. Park and uncovered further threads. Without Yeonwoo serving as both bloodhound and safety net, they would never have made it this far.

The stray dog he had picked up—meant only to be used for his purpose and then put back in place—had claimed far more ground than expected.

“Anyway, be good to him.”

At her admonition, Wooshin raised his eyes. On his sculpted, expressionless face, something like a faint smile flickered.

“I’m already treating him perfectly well.”

No one could do better under the current conditions. Thanks to that, Yeonwoo behaved as though he would gladly offer up even his liver and gallbladder for him. What Wooshin had not foreseen was how useful Yeonwoo would become.

He delivered information precisely when needed and performed exactly as required. His affinity with others was remarkable as well. Even trying and failing to hide it, Im Sehan and Jung Suho were visibly eager to bring him on as a full member. Even Joo Doyoung—who ground his teeth at the very mention of hybrids—seemed shaken. Yeonwoo’s presence had become impossible to ignore.

The stray dog he picked up had influenced not only him, but the entire team. It was hardly surprising—once he broke his own rigid line, those chosen to stand behind it would bend as well.

Yet his unease about that fact was strangely hard to name. Thus—last night as well…

“……”

A faint crack formed between his brows. The memory began where the noise first trickled in after Yeonwoo contacted Sio.

He had not been the only one eavesdropping on the two’s quiet conversation. Jung Suho’s easy voice had rung out:

— Wow, our newbie could totally be an actor.

The team, minus Yeonwoo, had spoken over the comms from their respective posts. Im Sehan and Jung Suho positioned nearby in case of emergency, Joo Doyoung in the office ready to relay Yeonwoo’s signal, and Wooshin directing from Seolkyung’s lab.

— For a first time… he’s doing very well.

Even solemn Im Sehan had been impressed. Joo Doyoung had snorted.

— If he ruins the mission by getting drunk, I’ll kill him.

Spoken like a threat, but Wooshin recognized the concern beneath it. He pictured each of his subordinates listening closely to the audio and video Yeonwoo transmitted.

Soft-hearted fools. Even after getting burned, they still offered their hearts.

Then he realized it—his sharp, irrational irritation toward them. An odd restlessness stirred in his chest, without warning or cause.

A feeling not at all welcome. Shadowed, tangled—petty, even—and stubbornly impossible to ignore. It scraped at him like a barb. The more it grew, the more he chased Yeonwoo’s voice.

Contrary to concern, Yeonwoo handled his liquor well. Not only that—he employed a natural charm and social instinct no amount of textbook training could teach, slowly loosening Sio’s guard. Was he born for this, or had he secretly taken acting classes? The stray pup excelled even in real combat.

Under Yeonwoo’s innocent coaxing, Sio spilled far more than needed—mostly painful past and present, but at the core of his rambling burned hope.

Personal stories flowed, glasses clinked, voices rose.

— N-no, I mean, you’re just really pretty. Feels weird saying to a guy, but you’re really pretty.

Sio’s stammer held shy sincerity.

— That’s how I look to you? Thank you.

Hearing even that gentle reply, Wooshin’s brow had creased slowly. From beyond the line, Jung Suho chimed in:

— Uh… isn’t he kinda hitting on him?

Perhaps it was that foolish remark that tipped the balance. The vague unrest he had been ignoring spread like ink in water, sharpening into irritation. And in the instant that touched the deep recess he kept locked down, his expression smoothed back to ice. Tch— a silent curse slipped between his teeth, target unclear.

Time passed. Yeonwoo tried repeatedly to wake drunken Sio.

— Sio, are you asleep? It’s only been two hours.

— Mm… I can do it…

Sio mumbled nonsense in half-consciousness. Then came only soft breaths and faint rustling.

The mission had succeeded, yet a single bothersome seed took root inside Wooshin. He refused to name it—refused to water it, refused to feed it.

“Alright then.”

Seolkyung’s clear voice sliced through his thoughts. When he looked up, she was opening her bag and taking out items. Three glass cups and a thermos familiar in design were placed before the window slot.

She moved quietly, hands alone in motion, giving her actions a sacred stillness. Tilting the thermos, she poured a thick liquid into the first cup. Homemade soy milk. She slid the cup through the opening connecting the rooms; the aroma drifted across. The cup brushed Wooshin’s forearm with gentle warmth.

She filled the other two cups, tore open individually packed nuts, set some beside his cup, and tossed a pack to him as well. He stared down at it.

Crunch. The sound came from her—biting into an almond.