AN: Please visit the book's description for the several content warnings this book will contain, as there will not be warnings for each chapter unless necessary. Be advised; this story is dark and not for the faint of heart.

⋆.˚⭒⋆ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

[■■■■■■■■■■] 100% ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ.

"Wooyoung–"

A familiar voice approaches, laden with faux-urgency, yet hinted with a careful, mischievous smile. Wooyoung turns to glance at the person, raising a brow, putting down the paperwork he had been trying to avoid for days on end.

"Yes, hyung?" Wooyoung leans back in his chair, watching as Jeonghan bites his lower lip, tapping the folder that had been within his grasp.

"I have details of our next project," Jeonghan says enthusiastically, setting the folder down with a subtle smack. "It's undercover, and I think I'm going to get picked for it."

"You?" Wooyoung asks, smiling widely. "Getting picked for a covert op?"

"Hey, I have skills," Jeonghan defends with a small pout, pointing to the folder. "Look at the details! This is all up my alley, not yours, mister hacker-man."

"Oh? Hacker-man, huh? Since when do I spend more time on a computer than you?"

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, folding his arms against his chest. "Just open the file, would you?"

"Alright," Wooyoung says with a smile, reaching for the folder, placing it softly between his hands. Slowly, he opens the folder, his eyes greeting the sight of several different papers, all highlighted and mapped with different details that discuss the severity of a new mission.

From just a quick glance, Wooyoung caught word of exactly what Jeonghan had explained; an undercover mission, but as for what remained oddly vague. He reads through a few more details, running his fingers through the pages, finding a few polaroids taken of a nearby casino and slightly blurred faces, all detailed with guard routes and bank receipts, uncovering transaction history with specific dates and bank accounts being filed.

"What's with all of the routing numbers?" Wooyoung asks, looking up at Jeonghan.

"Not sure," Jeonghan moves to stand behind Wooyoung's chair, looking down and over his shoulder as he reads through the folder once more. "Mingyu won't say anything about this job we're supposed to be preparing for, yet he has everyone doing some sort of detailed work on it."

"I haven't had anything to do with it," Wooyoung mutters, glancing back down at the folder. "He hasn't asked for me to do a single thing. I've been stuck doing this political shit for Scoups since he's on sick leave this week."

"Look at you, being all nice to him," Jeonghan teases, softly pressing his finger into Wooyoung's cheek. "Your boyfriend would be proud of you."

"Be proud of what? The fact that I'm being nice?" Wooyoung raises a brow, turning in his chair slightly to properly face Jeonghan. "You act as if I've been a douche since I started with the agency. Maybe I was a little. . . temperamental, but I wasn't cold and heartless like the boss man."

"I'm so telling him that you said that," Jeonghan teases with a wide smile. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, reaching his hand over to smack the male on his chest, a faux-grimace becoming of his expression.

"Play nice, Jeonghannie–" Wooyoung warns. "What's Mingyu gonna do, huh? Fire me?"

"He might send you on some shit mission next time, don't tempt him." Jeonghan sticks his tongue out, leaning away when Wooyoung goes to smack him again.

"Hey, you two, knock it off." Another voice interrupts the atmosphere held within Wooyoung's small office, earning a dramatic sigh in turn.

"Yeonjun, please!" Wooyoung whines. "Take him away from my office. He's causing me to procrastinate."

"Oh, lord. Here comes the dutiful boyfriend to protect you," Jeonghan jests, placing his hands on Wooyoung's shoulders before he squeezes them, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "You can't always use your boyfriend to get you out of my incessant teasing."

"I beg to differ," Wooyoung says with a smirk, biting his lip.

"Hey, I meant it," Yeonjun says, faux-stern. "Mingyu is calling a meeting about that file that Jeonghan stole from his desk. Be in the room in five."

"Does that mean we're working late?" Wooyoung asks with a frown, to which Yeonjun simply shrugs.

"You act as if you're the one driving home," Yeonjun replies, smiling small. "We'll be fine, Young'ah. Just come to the meeting."

Wooyoung smiles back, nodding as he turns his chair back towards his desk, closing the once-open folder, listening as Jeonghan begins talking again, either to himself or to Yeonjun, Wooyoung just wasn't sure as to which.

"All I'm saying is that I don't want to be sent out of the country again," Jeonghan begins, walking a few steps towards the doorway of Wooyoung's office, lingering there, leaning against the frame. "It would be nice to remain here in Seoul, especially in this agency and not one from the states."

"Why would they ever transfer you over there?" Wooyoung suddenly asks. "We've been working, well, most of us at least, have been working beneath the Korean government for years now–"

"I don't make the rules, Young'ah," Jeonghan says, holding his hands up, shrugging slightly. "It's not my call. I'd rather not get sent anywhere, but we never know what we're going to get pulled for. We were all just in Taiwan on business last month, so who knows where we're being sent off to now."

Wooyoung nods, taking the folder into his hands before he turns, handing it back off to Jeonghan, pausing before he speaks.

"They won't send us anywhere. I just have a feeling–" Wooyoung looks up, smiling when Jeonghan meets his gaze. "This mission is going to be big here in Seoul."

"Big, huh?" Jeonghan hums, nodding his head. "Alright, Young'ah. Let's see where we're off to now."

Jeonghan takes the folder before he finally saunters off, a sudden levity in his steps as he strolls through their office space. Wooyoung shakes his head, taking in a breath, leaning back in his chair as he sinks into knowing that another mission was about to be completely uncovered.

For the last two years, Wooyoung has worked beneath the Korean government, acting as an agent that would undergo a variety of missions to better their world in secretive means. Though, Wooyoung could hardly find such levity within the job he performed, knowing that lives were lost and constantly put at risk, yet there's nothing he'd change about it.

While working at this agency, Wooyoung met some of his closer friends, but they weren't his best friends by any means. Jeonghan was nice, always adding a certain humor to their day-to-day, but he was sometimes a bit too jovial. Jeonghan tried to see the best in everything, yet his temper got in the way of certain tasks when things seemingly fell through, but his ability to be overly observant is what made him a formidable agent. Jeonghan was close with Seung-cheol, or Scoups, as they'd often call him around the office.

Scoups was the quiet one of the office, keeping to himself, remaining calm, embarking on more political tasks, taking out foreign leaders in the moment the government asked him to. He was never scared of anything, seeing things with a straightened attitude that never went awry. Personally, Wooyoung thought that Scoups was the most dangerous in the office, because he really showed little emotion. You could never tell what he was thinking, nor as to what he had planned, meaning that if he wanted to kill you, you wouldn't know until you were bleeding out.

Beyond his two favorite co-workers, was Yeonjun, his romantic partner. Wooyoung hated the term boyfriend, as it felt too childish to be using at his age, but in layman's terms, that's what they were. Boyfriends. They had been together for the past year, living together for nearly a few months, embarking on missions together since the moment Wooyoung started at this agency. Yeonjun was sweet, overly curious, charming his way out of trouble in any instance he could manage with his overwhelming charisma. Wooyoung loved him, truly he did, and having him around in times as trivial as this made everything simply easier to digest.

Then there was Mingyu, his boss. He was. . . difficult, to say the least, as his expectations wove themselves high, but he tried his best to be as understanding as he could. Their missions were always high-priority, strung with dangerous details that involves secrecy and assassination attempts as of late, leading to the unraveling of several different notorious networks not just here in Seoul, but across the entirety of Asia as a whole.

Wooyoung respected Mingyu enough, but there was something hidden in the folds of Mingyu's office that Wooyoung was desperate to uncover; something that would likely corrupt everything they had worked for. He wasn't entirely sold on this idea that they were serving for the greater good, and rather a gray area, lost between the seas of black and the shores of white. They were stuck in the throes of everything that felt too blurry to see past, opaque and vaguely recognizable amongst the other things that occurred here within such an office. There was more to this agency, Wooyoung believed, and he wanted to know more.

Being an agent wasn't his first choice, but after serving in his mandatory military service for two years, he found it hard to leave after that. He had no family to go home to, as his mother died of cancer while he was deployed years back, and his father was nowhere to be found. He had no siblings, no one to protect, leaving him as a lone wolf to fend for himself. He was okay with it, partially, recognizing that he'd need to adapt to the world's ever-changing tides, or he should simply see life as forfeit. He refused to drown in all of this, staking claim to a chance of survival in a world that sought to end the weak.

With a breath, Wooyoung pushes himself out of his chair, strolling through the emptiness of their communal office space, moving past humming computer towers and empty cubicles, leading his steps towards the main meeting room, laden with a large round table and an internal computer module.

"Take a seat," Mingyu says, standing at the head of the room, holding a small remote in his hand. Everyone follows suit, sitting down in their usual chairs, surrounding the table with attentive gazes. Wooyoung smooths out his button-up, folding one leg over the other, tapping his fingers against the arms of his rolling chair. Curiously, he watches Mingyu, taking in the sight of him as he began to move around the outskirts of the room with a specific grandeur, almost as if his entire aura demanded respect. He was dignified, that Wooyoung knew, but Mingyu always held his head high, acting indifferent to matters that seemed life-altering. He was egotistical, maybe a bit hard-headed and easy to temper, but he knew that there were reasons as to why Mingyu was chosen to be the head of this office.

"Now, as Jeonghan has so graciously spoiled to all of you, we have a new assignment, something that our government leaders deem as not only incredibly important, but utterly dangerous, marked as a red code-five."

Mingyu continues to move about the space, his voice composed and loud, captivating the attention of those settled within the room.

"I'm sure we've all heard the tale of mafias back in the states, and while they are rare here in Seoul, there has been one in operation for many years, running beneath our government's nose, and as of late, they are proving to be a problem that demands to be dealt with."

Mingyu presses a button on the remote, causing the computer in the table to spark to life, bringing up a blue hologram that slowly begins to rotate in its own small orbit. It was the 3D image of a large casino, the one taken in the Polaroids, one Wooyoung has seen on several occasions in the heart of Seoul, looming near the business district. It was popular and very controversial, running all hours of the day, yet remaining closed during the depth of night. It was taboo to be closed when business was more likely to embark on an upward trend during the evening, and yet the casino refused to change their ways for the last several years.

"The Crimson Cartel," Mingyu states, pressing another button on the remote. "They operate beneath the facade of the Velvet Mirage, and their leader is the notorious Choi San."

Wooyoung watches as an image of San appears above the table as a hologram, looking over his shoulder, wearing layers and layers of gold against his chest. His hair was short and slicked back, his eyes telling a tale of loathing distaste for whoever had taken the photo of him in the rare moment he must've been seen outdoors.

"He's dangerous, smart, and incredibly wealthy. He has control over the entirety of Seoul, and no one has ever dared to try and unfurl his crimson web of deceit, murder, and lies. He runs a very strict operation, and from what little knowledge we've gathered, we've come to know that he is on the hunt for a data chip that is in the government's possession. He has the means to obtain anything and everything that he wants, but we'll be stopping him before he even has the chance to see the chip with his own eyes."

"How are we to do that?" Jeonghan asks, stirring Mingyu's steps to pause at the head of the table, turning off the hologram as the lights begin to dim back on.

"Simple," Mingyu explains, walking closer to the table, setting the remote down as he gestures to the folders sitting ahead of everyone, indicating to take a further look. "We will have someone go undercover, to act as our eyes so we can anticipate San's every move. This has to be performed with utmost caution, and this job cannot be taken lightly."

Wooyoung looks down at his folder, reading the red label stamped across the top curiously. Classified, as it read, even though most of the files within this office remained that way, this stamp felt different, but he couldn't quite place as to how.

"I need someone composed and smart on their feet, someone who will be able to trick San and his men to see into the folds of such an operation," Mingyu states, leaning back, clasping his hands behind his back. He looked overly dignified, and beyond that, his tone was incredibly stern, but he paused, looking as if he was about to make the grandest of statements.

"Jung Wooyoung will take the lead in this operation," Mingyu continues, gesturing towards the folders again. "There is a time table, along with names and faces of people we've had scanned through the government's system. Their known history, as well as their contribution to the underground is noted within these files. Study them until you can recite them by heart. Tomorrow night, I'm sending you in to live amongst them, and you are not to come out until your mission is done."

Wooyoung nods, feeling every single pair of eyes on him as he reaches for the folder, hesitantly hovering his hand over the top of it, letting his palm eventually flatten against it. "What's the final mission of all of this? I understand I am to infiltrate their ranks, act as if I am one of them, but what am I truly there for?"

"To kill him," Mingyu states, his gaze slightly beginning to narrow. "Your goal is to climb their ranks, to get as close as you can to Choi San, and when the time is right. . . I need you to kill him."

The weight of Mingyu's words settled over Wooyoung's skin, acting as an uncomfortable blanket that he knew he'd have to harbor. Killing wasn't anything new or taboo to Wooyoung, as this line of work always involved some sort of violence. It wasn't the idea of having to kill someone that clung like an overcast cloud, but rather the idea of living amongst such a group, someone who held overly ill intentions and murdered innocent victims without an ounce of remorse, someone who would turn a blind eye to any act of violence simply because it was all he knew.

Wooyoung knew of the Choi family, as they held notorious weight of words in all of Seoul. Yet, their lack of empathy remained the biggest thing that Wooyoung knew of. From an outsider's perspective, the Choi family ruled with an iron fist, running their companies and gaining financial power without batting an eye. They handled business alone, doing their things their own way, not wishing to lean on anyone else for the fear that they'd be indebted.

Choi San, their enigmatic son, remained a figure of grizzly stature. He was mysterious, and no one really knew too much about what he embarked on in the depths of Choi mansion. Now, having heard everything about the casino and the underground that came with it, partially, it all began to make sense. Wooyoung wasn't dumb in knowing the cost that would come with such an operation, but based upon Mingyu's intense stare and the glimmer of uncertainty that came from the others around him, Wooyoung knew that this mission, and this one alone, could cost him everything.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎. . .⋙

"Ready to leave?"

Wooyoung takes a deep breath inwards before slowly releasing it, adjusting his glasses that had been perched on his nose.

"I don't know," Wooyoung mutters back, leaning away from his desk, watching as his computer document blinks back at him, an annoying reminder of the task that remained unfinished. "How late is it now?"

"Nearly eleven," Yeonjun replies, leaning against Wooyoung's door frame. "You do this every time, Young'ah. It's time to go home. Aren't you hungry?"

"I ate, Jun, don't worry about me," Wooyoung replies, smiling as he turns to glance at his partner. "This paperwork from Taiwan. . . Mingyu needs it by the end of the day tomorrow, but I just. . . can't do it."

"What about it is so hard?" Yeonjun asks, stepping closer, stopping behind Wooyoung's chair to peer over his shoulder.

"The details of it all, you know?" Wooyoung leans back, feeling as Yeonjun's hands curl around his shoulders, softly pressing inwards, soothing his fingers into his skin and muscles. "It's having to reassess the actions we took to keep one another safe. I realize that we were dealing with a drug lord, but we. . . we–"

"We did what we had to," Yeonjun murmurs, leaning his head down, his breath warm against Wooyoung's ear. "He threatened to kill Jeonghan, and you and I did what was necessary to make sure that all of us were safe and came home. Our mission was done. We did what we had to do."

"I'm not immune to realizing that we have a difficult job. We see things and we do things that not every normal person commits," Wooyoung explains, wetting his lips. "Even still– Scoups killed his wife and his family just to protect Jeonghan. Was it worth it?"

"It was worth it," Yeonjun admits, but Wooyoung leans away, turning around in his chair.

"I've done a lot of shitty things in my life, but never that," Wooyoung states adamantly, furrowing his brow. "I don't want to sit here and recount the steps we took to even get there. It makes us appear sloppy, as if we have no communication or coordination. We look like fools."

"We look like people," Yeonjun reassesses, searching Wooyoung's gaze. "We are just trying to survive and follow our orders as they are given to us."

"I know, Jun, I know all of that–" Wooyoung sighs, chewing on the interior of his cheek. "But when do we cross the line? This new mission I'm on, trying to intercept Choi San's plans before he can get too close, what lines will I cross then? How many people am I going to have to kill to make sure our mission doesn't end up compromised?"

Yeonjun is silent, but he nods, somehow understanding the weight kept on Wooyoung's shoulders.

"I'm not. . . I'm not trying to be sensitive and overly dramatic," Wooyoung says quietly, glancing back at his computer, his eyes locked with the cursor that blinks back at him, tantalizing and obnoxious. "Our actions have consequences, some being karmedic, other times being graced by whatever figure watches over us. We've all done bad shit, but I can't sit here and condone the killing of his entire family. It isn't who we are. It's not the code we abide by."

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun soothes, reaching to plant his hands back against Wooyoung's shoulders. "Relax, jagiya. I wasn't saying any of that, I was just trying to make you feel better about it all. The paperwork can wait one more day; let's just go home."

"Can you give me ten more minutes?" Wooyoung asks, leaning his head back against his chair. "That's all I ask. Ten minutes."

Yeonjun takes in a breath, studying his partner's expression before relenting, nodding softly with a gentle smile. "Sure, love. Ten minutes. Then we're going home and getting take out, okay?"

"Okay," Wooyoung says with a breath, allowing a smile to subtly curl at the edges of his lips as Yeonjun leans closer, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss. Wooyoung parts away with a playful huff, smirking at Yeonjun as he talks. "Flirting in the office, are we? Isn't that against the code of conduct?"

"I'd like to think it's good for the workplace," Yeonjun muses aloud, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Adds a little bit of light to a field filled with so much darkness."

"Fine, fine, you sweet talker–" Wooyoung raises a hand, gently shoving Yeonjun away by pressing his palm against his chest. "Give me ten minutes, and then I'm all yours. Okay?"

"Yes, I'm going, I'm going–!" Yeonjun laughs quietly, following the slight shove that Wooyoung continues to give. "I'm setting a timer. Ten minutes, on the dot. Okay?"

"On the dot, yes sir," Wooyoung says, saluting playfully, smiling through his teasing tone. Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he leaves, closing Wooyoung's office door gently before his steps begin to recede. With a breath, Wooyoung turns in his chair again, spinning gently before facing his monitors, inspecting the empty boxes where his recounts should lay typed.

Truthfully, he wished to just stray away from this work, but Mingyu had given him time again and again as an extension, but there were no more chances in ignoring all of this. As the leader of that mission, Wooyoung couldn't help but feel as if he had failed. He was overly critical of himself, a practiced perfectionist when it comes to the field of his work. He had an internal checklist, a variety of tasks to meet and live up to in that of his own mind, struggling to comprehend how he could allow such a tragedy to become of their work.

The job was simple; grab intel on the drug lord's trade routes, to track his movements and find safehouses to pass over to the government so they could properly handle the situation itself. Yet, their undercover strategy was soon found out, leading the drug lord himself to catch them off-guard and threaten to execute Jeonghan, who had been disguised within his ranks, acting as a driver for their deliveries.

Instead of just extracting Jeonghan, Yeonjun and Scoups decided that the best course of action was to eliminate the threat, but. . . things quickly got out of hand.

With a breath, Wooyoung begins typing, trying to ignore the urge to break his keyboard in half, followed by smashing his monitors. It was wrong to be recounting such a mission, one that was seen as a failure in his own eyes. Mingyu didn't seem all that bothered by it; in fact, he congratulated the success of the mission itself, buying a round of drinks at the local bar once everyone had gathered back home from Taiwan.

Wooyoung wasn't ever truly sure about the intentions Mingyu held, especially with his powerful role in such a career, but considering who he was married to, and the things he had done in the past, he supposes that Mingyu was likely just misunderstood, even despite his own gut feeling.

Mingyu was married to Jeon Wonwoo, a known police officer that operated in the narcotics division and gang unit, both of which advanced his career far beyond anything Wooyoung has ever seen. Both Mingyu and Wonwoo climbed the ranks relatively fast, and at an unusual rate, but he never bothered to question anything, knowing that it was far from his business.

He hadn't personally met Wonwoo, but he's heard of him, as Jeonghan practically can never shut up about how nice the guy apparently is. Wooyoung never really hung out with Jeonghan or Scoups more than he already had to at work, as he really couldn't find it within himself to trust anything the two had said. They were members of the same agency, and he would of course protect them with everything he had while in the field, but here, at home and without the danger of people coming after them, Wooyoung could care less about what they discussed and did after they left the office.

So, he continues on, typing vaguely about the steps taken, the times being input, trying to get past this hurdle as fast as he is able. Ten minutes wasn't really a lot of time to fully finish this paperwork, but it'd be enough to get through the hardest part of it all; co-signing his name and admitting fault to a casualty.

His jaw tightens as he types, his fingers moving automatically against the keys as they appeared before him in a rapture of letters, disappearing when he hits the backspace, appearing more permanent when he hits enter. It was only then that Wooyoung truly realized that though his job of choice required a certain steely gaze to do more. . . drastic parts of his job, he couldn't help but feel his humanity slipping away, begging for anything more than a simple shrug to the more violent recounts of things he witnessed. Mingyu seemed truly blind to it all, or maybe he just didn't care. Either way, Wooyoung hated that about him, and even more so, found it more difficult to trust him because of such leniency.

But he continues regardless, typing and typing away as the clock ticks closer and closer to his time limit. Six minutes had passed, and though he felt like he had done practically nothing, it was the most progress he had accumulated in several days. The words, once having failed him, now came out in a flood. It was as if everything he was holding back ached to be released, glued behind a dam and now surging forth with newly forged fervor. He was always harboring feelings like this, and even if he longed to feel nothing, to try and portray that he was tougher than all of this, but that was just it; he wasn't.

Beyond the exterior he longed to withhold, laid the insurmountable doubt of self-worth. He wanted to prove that he was something, not only to himself, but of that to his father, who claimed he was worth nothing before he fell off the face of the earth. He longed to make the people around him proud, fearing the disappointment that came with failure. Maybe that was why he was overly critical, or maybe it had deeper roots than just a surface level fear of never being enough. He didn't know; nor was he ever sure if he'd ever find out the answers he so desperately sought in the solitude of night.

His insomnia was a frequent hurdle, one that Yeonjun tried to soothe with a variety of teas and medications, but had been unsuccessful. But, Wooyoung didn't mind not sleeping most nights. It offered more retrospect, a time to think and process the events of the day, to see more than just the light that the sun offered and rather finding appreciation in the light that the moon tirelessly showered down upon them, even amongst the night it brought along with it. Insomnia wasn't that horrible to Wooyoung, at least, now now, anyway. He had gotten used to it, taking whatever hours he could grab throughout the week to power through mountains of paperwork and training, using his time wisely so he could truly savor tender moments with Yeonjun when he was awake.

Yet, even in admitting to all of this, finalizing his statement with a definitive period, it all felt too. . . final. A means to an end, left with no separation and no more words to take away the sting of what his fellow members had done. Lives were mercilessly taken, and at no consequence from the government. The drug lord, now deceased with that of his family, was a solved case, and somehow that was just enough.

Wooyoung leans back in his chair, his finger hovering above the enter key, staring back at the words he had typed, wondering if he should state the entire truth, or just leave it as a vague means of miscommunication. There was more to it, as there usually was to a circumstance such as this, and even still, he couldn't find it within himself to type more than he already had. Afterall, he would be gone for an unknown amount of time, lingering within the depths of a group that he knew nothing of. He'd have to steel himself over once more, diving into the throes of a mafia and its apparent underground that was hidden beneath the floor of a casino.

He would miss Yeonjun, and maybe his office and his coworkers, but he wouldn't miss what would follow.

The finality of it all. A dead body, blood on his hands, a merciless title becoming of the badges he earned all those years ago. He knew his hands were stained and caked in blood and sand, and even as he desperately tried to wipe them off, it remained. He was stuck in this life, stuck doing other people's dirty work for the sake of the "greater good". It felt anything but that in Wooyoung's eyes. This entire field, as reputable as it may be, was anything but good.

But it was all he knew.

Violence, murder, guns and weapons, fast cars, assignments; a rush of adrenaline that would entice most to bypass the feelings of finality and intoxicating guilt. But just as his father swore and repeated time after time, Wooyoung would follow such orders, do his job, commit such a crime and do so without batting an eye. That's how he was raised. That's what he was trained to do. He knew of nothing else.

Act before the universe acts for you, he would state, clenching his fist while hovering over a young, vulnerable Wooyoung. Kill the beast before the beast kills you.

He was talking about hunting back then, in terms of a wolf, or maybe even a deer, but. . . Wooyoung felt the weight of his words then, and even more so now.

Choi San was a beast.

And he'd have to kill him before San could even try to kill him first.