Snake Venom Ch 97

Chapter 97

 

The mask Cheon Wooshin had personally selected for Lee Yeonwoo—so as to evade easy recognition and swift forgetting—was drawn with slightly bolder, flatter lines. The silicone enveloping his skin neatly concealed Lee Yeonwoo’s tidy, finely wrought features without a trace.

 

“Could you lift your face just a little more?”

 

Following the instruction, Lee Yeonwoo obediently raised his chin. Stiffening his body to avoid disturbing the artisan who discreetly adhered the silicone edges, he gazed at the ceiling. His clasped fingertips fidgeted ceaselessly; his crossed ankles refused to stay still.

 

It was while the skilled craftsman meticulously affixed the material down to the hollow beneath Lee Yeonwoo’s ear that Cheon Wooshin averted his gaze. He had realized he was observing Lee Yeonwoo beyond necessity.

 

In truth, until the very moment the call arrived announcing the mask’s completion, Cheon Wooshin had agonized over whether to deploy Lee Yeonwoo in the operation. He had weighed gains and losses until his head burned, wrestling with an incomprehensible, grotesque unease that consumed his time. Only as dawn broke could he regard Lee Yeonwoo’s plea—*please use me just once*—with rationality.

 

Yet, damnably, even as the exquisitely crafted mask was affixed to his face, Cheon Wooshin still hesitated.

 

Against his will, Lee Yeonwoo’s afterimage surfaced. The sight of him—having confronted Cheon Wooshin head-on when blinded by lust, base and devoid of courtesy—only to be swept away and shattered in the end. One scene emerged beneath the thick veneer: Lee Yeonwoo, chest bared, gazing elsewhere. Though the darkness within obscured his expression, Cheon Wooshin at that moment had brazenly savored Lee Yeonwoo’s bewildered, helpless response.

 

Seolkyung had said that when memory lapsed, Cheon Wooshin’s alternate persona shared the present consciousness. The primary self—himself—lost recollection, while the unrestrained persona remembered everything. Now, for the first time, he could peer into a past he had never known.

 

Some scenes flickered dimly, severed; others felt vivid, as though Lee Yeonwoo stood before him in the flesh. Within them, Cheon Wooshin repeated shameless, sadistic acts while endlessly craving Lee Yeonwoo.

 

It felt like aimless circling on a path with clear purpose and direction. Like deliberately playing the fool despite knowing all.

 

To manage the side effects with any stability and utilize Lee Yeonwoo effectively, he needed to keep him close as before. Accompanying him to the transaction site with Shin Junseong followed the same logic. To Lee Yeonwoo, whose olfactory sense was exceptional, a den of addicts was no less than a field of information. If anything existed, Lee Yeonwoo would undoubtedly uncover it.

 

The rationale was clear—yet the cursed side effects were the problem. The shifting persona and memory loss were effectively uncontrollable. Who knew what the altered self might do to Lee Yeonwoo again. He could not permit a repeat of that unconsented act—forced upon Lee Yeonwoo, who had no choice but to comply.

 

Above all, with the past he had inflicted now intruding like an uninvited guest, merely keeping Lee Yeonwoo near flooded Cheon Wooshin with inexplicable unease and turmoil. Guilt toward him? Regret for not scrutinizing his surroundings once more? Self-mockery at having time so futilely stolen by another persona? Or… Whatever it was defined as, it remained murky and tangled. The harder he tried to pinpoint it, the fiercer the resistance surged.

 

Reason and emotion clashed sharply, each armed with its own justification. One side screamed incessantly to sever ties before committing worse; the other roared to recall the original purpose of bringing him in and exploit him thoroughly.

 

Thus it went. Deciding yet agonizing, thinking yet unable to release—this destructive ambiguity sank Cheon Wooshin endlessly. To the point where his unconscious glances toward Lee Yeonwoo twisted his insides.

 

Cheon Wooshin crossed his legs and thrust a hand into his pocket. The once-crisp silhouette instantly radiated oppressive, delinquent tension.

 

Nothing could be defined or resolved. Ever since the venom’s intoxication, it had been so—but since Lee Yeonwoo’s arrival, it felt like riding a rollercoaster. Grinding his molars, Cheon Wooshin recalled the final frenzy of lust before memory vanished. The experience—thighs aching with the urge to devour Lee Yeonwoo, spine ablaze—was so intense no metaphor came readily to mind.

 

Lee Yeonwoo’s voice brushed his mind.

 

*Team Leader.*

 

Unlike the usual bright tone, it was muffled, damp.

 

*Hnn! Ah, it hurts!*

 

The memory-lost self had entered Lee Yeonwoo’s passage. Only the tip seemed to have breached, yet the sensation—still vividly alive—vehemently asserted the act’s reality. Recalling the tight, slick constriction of inner walls, Cheon Wooshin rolled his tongue within his mouth. That was unmistakably the feeling of penetration.

 

Without permission, the serpent donning his skin had coupled with Lee Yeonwoo. Recognizing this anew, something deep within—barely suppressed—convulsed in outrage. Like a beast’s long torso arching under fierce stimulus, it writhed grotesquely, scaldingly.

 

Dark eyes, lowered, slowly lifted. Fangs felt exceptionally sharp in that instant. Detecting something, they met Lee Yeonwoo’s searching gaze.

 

*It’s my turn to suck you now.*

 

Another memory fragment struck the back of his head. Cheon Wooshin let out a hollow laugh.

 

“Ha.”

 

That audacious creature knew no bounds in speech. Cheon Wooshin had long recognized his cleverness and wit, yet to tame the lust-crazed serpent with such escalation—Lee Yeonwoo must have deemed it the only viable response. The approach was both exasperating and comprehensible. The logical clash pressed painfully against his ribs. An unbearable weight. Cheon Wooshin fixed his stare on Lee Yeonwoo.

 

Startled by the heavy gaze, Lee Yeonwoo furtively averted his eyes. Yet soon, with worry and earnestness, he repeatedly glanced over. He was desperately signaling that the scent had intensified.

 

Alone injecting the suppressant, Cheon Wooshin laughed hollowly once more. His mind brimmed with contradictory emotions toward Lee Yeonwoo. Anger and understanding, shameless desire and steadfast duty spread to opposite poles yet clung viscously together. What manner of feelings were these.

 

The bastard had merely done his duty. And in the process received Cheon Wooshin’s cock. Such vulgar rationalization also coiled within the mass of contradictions, claiming its place.

 

The finely adjusted suppressant liquid gradually diffused. Sharpened senses loosened, yet even that was temporary. Cheon Wooshin gazed at the ceiling, helplessly plunging into the swirling emotions once more.

 

*Lee Yeonwoo, Lee Yeonwoo, Lee Yeonwoo…*

 

Never had Cheon Wooshin experienced such chaos. Even the moment of venom intoxication on the brink of life and death paled—this was a tempest of unparalleled ferocity.

 

***

 

Cheon Wooshin, having parked, checked his wristwatch. The appointed hour was 11 p.m., when night began to stretch its limbs. He looked up. Guards at the building entrance verified the vehicle plate and cross-referenced their list. The first checkpoint was cleared.

 

Unlike the past, when the mansion’s basement had been lavishly transformed into a club, the site now housed a derelict structure that would not seem odd if demolished tomorrow. Cracked steps led to the door; peeling wall paint lent a shabby, rundown air. Guards stationed around the deliberately neglected building wore stern expressions.

 

Ten minutes remained. As Cheon Wooshin cut the engine, a click sounded beside him—the seatbelt unfastening.

 

Glancing over, his eyes met Lee Yeonwoo’s, who was touching his nape, unaccustomed to the foreign sensation covering his face.

 

Lee Yeonwoo’s pupils trembled as though overly conscious of him, yet he soon shifted his gaze, blinked once, and regained composure. Slowly meeting eyes again, he tapped his nose lightly and lifted the corner of his mouth.

 

“I’ll be as if I’m not here.”

 

It was the neat, resolute voice Cheon Wooshin always heard. What effort had the once-criminal-like Lee Yeonwoo exerted to act so calmly now? What mindset deceived himself? Cheon Wooshin erased the recurring question. At least before the operation, it was not the priority.

 

Arriving at the entrance, Cheon Wooshin presented the invitation sent by Shin Junseong. The guard receiving it compared Cheon Wooshin and Lee Yeonwoo’s faces to the list with an impassive expression.

 

Meanwhile, Cheon Wooshin’s eyes darted, rapidly noting surveillance camera positions at the entrance, wall and floor materials. Instinctive reconnaissance. A metal threshold lay beneath the door—likely a detector for weapons or communication devices.

 

In that interval, Lee Yeonwoo caught the edge of his vision. The vaguely dazed look irked him, but he ignored it.

 

The door opened. Low-beat music flowing through the perfectly sealed space vibrated ears and skin. The deeper they entered, the dimmer the lighting, the stronger the concealed heat. It felt like stepping into the maw of a living creature.