Snake Venom Ch 81

Chapter 81

 

The smile he wore this time was not disguised in the slightest. Brazenly beautiful, it was unmistakably a sneer — and yet, beneath the slow wrinkle at the bridge of his nose, a fleeting, false sorrow flickered in Cheon Wooshin’s eyes.

“You really did it just because I told you to. No shame at all.”

At that indifferent reprimand, Lee Yeonwoo’s ears flushed hot.

“That’s why you’re so easy — always eager.”

The Wooshin who had once been startled by such a joke was nowhere to be found. The man before him now took that memory and wielded it to mock him.

As Yeonwoo endured humiliation that had no shape nor direction, Wooshin’s gaze sank deeper into the car. The muzzle in his hand angled toward Yeonwoo, casual yet deadly. One wrong breath, and it would fire without hesitation.

“Good.”

Yeonwoo lifted the eyes he had lowered. Whatever it was he saw in Yeonwoo’s pitiful submission, Wooshin looked strangely unburdened.

“I’ll cherish you in my own way.”

He still spoke in riddles. Cherish him how? And in whose way, exactly? Yet Yeonwoo knew — to stay beside him even one second longer, he had to accept Wooshin’s language as law.

“—!”

The scent thickened suddenly. Forced — deliberately released. It surged so quickly Yeonwoo nearly coughed. But showing weakness now would be fatal. To persuade a capricious Wooshin, he, too, had to be unpredictable. Steeling himself, Yeonwoo worked to steady his mind — and Wooshin’s low voice fell from above.

“Phone.”

This time, his intent was clear as glass. He meant to sever Yeonwoo’s connection to Seolkyung completely. As long as his vitals did not spike, Seolkyung would notice nothing from afar. Filthy temperament aside, his meticulousness was identical to the original Wooshin’s. Reluctantly, Yeonwoo handed the phone over. Wooshin tucked it into his jacket and spoke.

“You will sit here. Quietly.”

Only then did he lay bare what he wanted, his voice sinking lower:

“Unless you want to watch your friend’s head blown off first.”

Sio’s shattered head overlapped with the hybrids who had been shot, and Yeonwoo’s throat constricted. The mere thought chilled the back of his neck.

“Or Jung Suho?”

That name drained the blood from his body at once. To think the man who had changed the entire plan to save Sio — and whom Suho trusted more than anyone — would use them as bargaining chips. But shock layered upon shock, and ironically, Yeonwoo’s mind sharpened. His gaze hardened.

So that was it — he wanted to play again.

When the side-effects had first surfaced, in the supply room — it was always the same. Wooshin sought thrill, not rightness; domination, not logic. And once he cornered his prey, he wrung out exactly what he wanted.

Still, it was fortunate his interest remained fixed on Yeonwoo. Wiping beneath his nose as if to sweep away the scent, Yeonwoo lifted his eyes.

Fine, then. If he wanted a game, Yeonwoo would play — and claim his own profit from it.

“I won’t move.”

His voice was calm — resolute. He placed both hands, and the syringe, neatly atop his knees.

“I’ll do everything you tell me.”

It felt like walking a tightrope. Too obedient, and Wooshin would lose interest; too bold, and he would erupt.

“But in return…”

Yeonwoo’s gentle posture belied the challenge in his gaze. Wooshin lifted one eye lazily, inviting him to speak — handsome face marred by the most obscene nonchalance.

“Won’t you only cherish me?”

Clever Wooshin surely understood. I will obey — so finish your mission, don’t ruin yourself, don’t let your weakness slip. Save your filth and chaos for me alone.

“Team Leader, ready.”

From afar, Jung Suho’s voice called.

Wooshin glanced at the smoking taxi, then back to Yeonwoo. His eyes shifted — mischief gone, replaced by an unsettling cold. To watch one face shift from one polar extreme to the other was chilling.

“Fearless little thing.”

The low drawl sounded like an insult, sending a shiver down Yeonwoo’s spine — but he lifted the syringe, voice trembling only with urgency.

“Then the first thing I want is for you to take this.”

Wooshin tilted his head, narrowing his eyes in mild amusement.

“And why should I?”

“Then at least give me the gun.”

Yeonwoo persisted, polite and steady.

“Or just shoot me in the head. It’d be faster.”

“…….”

Wooshin even leaned his head out slightly, as if inviting a bullet — flippant, reckless, treating lives that were not his as disposable. Yeonwoo nearly spat bastard, but swallowing that word was the only way to survive. Say it now, and Wooshin would laugh — or worse, hurt someone just to prove him right.

“Only cherish me.”

Wooshin went still — brief contemplation in the quiet breath he drew. He could destroy everything with one impulsive choice, and Yeonwoo knew it. Particularly because Jung Suho was close; if suspicion arose, he would approach — and then—

“Look at me.”

The low voice slid into his ears, and Yeonwoo’s gaze snapped back, shining like he had never looked away.

“All right.”

The answer was surprisingly light. Yeonwoo exhaled — relieved. Wooshin, even this version, did not lie. Vulgar and unpredictable, yes — but not a liar.

Still, relief lasted only a heartbeat.

“Then what shall I have you suck first?”

“……”

What?

Before Yeonwoo could even process the obscenity, a click sounded — Wooshin chambering a round. He glanced sideways toward Suho, waiting stoic in the distance. A threat as clear as day.

The meaning was vile and unmistakable.

Yeonwoo bit hard on his lower lip. Finish the mission first, then ruin me — that was the deal. Why drag this?

His glare rose — and Wooshin’s smile faded into boredom.

“Let’s stop. This is dull.”

His mastery of control was infuriating — elegant in its cruelty.

Yeonwoo’s thoughts scrambled, but his gaze hardened. If he did not speak — if he did not tempt — then everything Wooshin built would crumble. So before he could turn away, Yeonwoo fired back:

“Dull? The fun part’s only just starting.”

Whenever Wooshin changed, Yeonwoo thought the same thing: if a man who was normally righteous and controlled lost restraint, he would become this — a weapon masquerading as a person, whose violence was not justice but entertainment. The snake beneath the man’s skin always emerged like this.

He knew he was not restraining Wooshin — merely being allowed to survive under his whims.

How to hold him now? How to strike where he did not expect? Would Wooshin even stay caught?

He could not explicitly name things; shielding Suho would be the worst option. Brain racing, Yeonwoo lifted his head.

“I thought you remembered everything. Turns out even our Team Leader’s memory isn’t perfect?”

Wooshin’s gaze slid down his figure, slow and deliberate.

You wanted filth? Then filth. Yeonwoo tilted his head and lowered his lashes — hiding Suho behind Wooshin’s broad frame — and parted his lips to reveal a red tongue, just as Wooshin once had.

“I believe it’s my turn to suck.”

Silence — then a ripple, faint but unmistakable, stirred in Wooshin’s eyes.

The provocation had hit its mark.