9: (SILENT KILLER)

Seungbae adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, his fingers tight around the leather as he sped down the nearly empty streets. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows over the wet pavement, but his focus was razor-sharp.

Next to him, Hyunwoo was leaning back, looking completely unbothered, one arm resting on the window. "So," he drawled, "you really think the little creep is gonna lead us straight to Sangwoo?"

Seungbae's jaw clenched. "He doesn't have a choice."

Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow. "And what if he runs?"

"He won't." Seungbae's voice was cold, certain. "He's too obsessed with Sangwoo. Even if he wanted to escape, he'd never leave him behind."

Hyunwoo whistled lowly. "That's messed up."

Seungbae didn't answer. He already knew.

Yoonbum had been a victim once. That much had been obvious from the first time Seungbae laid eyes on him, all those years ago—bruised, trembling, looking at Sangwoo like he was both salvation and damnation.

But now?

Now, Yoonbum wasn't just a victim. He was part of this.

Whether he liked it or not.

ー

Yoonbum's hands shook as he clutched his phone. The location Sangwoo had sent him was an old, abandoned train station just outside the city. A place that had long been forgotten.

Just like him.

His breath was unsteady as he stepped into the cold night air, the silence pressing against his ears. Every step felt heavier, the weight of something inevitable crushing down on him.

And then—

A shadow moved near the station entrance.

Yoonbum's heart lurched into his throat. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, his entire body locking up as the figure stepped into the faint glow of a distant streetlamp.

"Sangwoo," he breathed.

His voice cracked on the name.

The man before him tilted his head, lips curling into a slow, familiar smirk.

"Missed me, Bum?"

It was him.

Same voice. Same posture. Same smile.

Yoonbum's knees nearly gave out.

Because Sangwoo was supposed to be dead.

And yet—

Here he was.

Waiting for him.

Like he always had.

ー

Seungbae watched from the shadows, his gun cold in his hands. His heart was pounding, his instincts screaming at him to move, to act—but he stayed still.

Hyunwoo, crouched beside him, let out a low breath. "I'll be damned," he muttered. "It's really him."

Seungbae didn't respond. His eyes were locked onto Yoonbum—onto the way his body swayed like he was about to collapse, onto the way his lips parted in something like awe.

And then onto Sangwoo.

The bastard hadn't changed. The way he held himself, the way he watched Yoonbum, drinking in his fear like it was something intoxicating.

Seungbae's grip tightened around his gun. His mind raced through every possible scenario.

Take the shot? Too risky. Yoonbum was too close.

Rush in? Stupid. He didn't know if Sangwoo was alone.

Wait?

Watch?

See what happens?

The thought made his blood boil.

Because Seungbae had spent too long waiting.

Too long letting Sangwoo slip through his fingers.

Not this time.

This time, he was ending this.

No matter what.

ー

Seungbae's pulse pounded in his ears, his gun steady but his muscles locked with tension. Hyunwoo shifted beside him, his breath slow, measured.

"He's just standing there," Hyunwoo muttered. "Like he's not even trying to run."

Because he wasn't.

Sangwoo wasn't just fearless—he was in control. He had always been. Even now, after being presumed dead, he wasn't hiding. He was standing in plain sight, letting Yoonbum come to him.

Like a predator waiting for his prey.

Seungbae gritted his teeth. Not this time.

ー

Yoonbum's breath came in short, ragged bursts. His hands trembled as he reached out, almost afraid Sangwoo would disappear like smoke the moment he touched him.

But when his fingers brushed against Sangwoo's wrist—

He was real.

Warm. Solid. Breathing.

Yoonbum's vision blurred. His knees buckled, and before he could hit the ground, Sangwoo's hands caught him.

"Shh," Sangwoo murmured, his grip firm, steady. "I'm here."

Yoonbum sobbed.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was quiet, desperate, the kind of cry that came from months of suffocating, drowning, existing in a world where Sangwoo no longer did.

He gripped Sangwoo's shirt, clung to him. "I—I thought you—"

"Shh," Sangwoo soothed again, fingers ghosting over the back of Yoonbum's neck. "You don't have to say anything."

Yoonbum squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to ask. Didn't want to question how this was happening.

Because if he did, if he let himself think too hard—

It might break the illusion.

And he wasn't sure he could survive that.

Not again.

ー

Seungbae had seen enough.

His fingers curled around his gun as he stepped forward, Hyunwoo barely a second behind him.

"OH SANGWOO!"

The name cut through the air like a bullet.

Yoonbum jerked.

Sangwoo?

He didn't even flinch.

Slowly, lazily, he turned his head, his smirk widening as he spotted Seungbae. His gaze flickered to the gun, then back to Seungbae's face.

And then—

He laughed.

Low. Amused. Completely unbothered.

"Detective." Sangwoo tilted his head. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Seungbae took another step forward, his finger twitching on the trigger. "I should put a bullet in your head right now."

Sangwoo grinned. "You could try."

Seungbae's entire body burned with fury. His memories of Sangwoo were bloodstained.

Women who never got justice. Men who were never found. The ones who had been buried, broken, discarded like they were nothing.

And Yoonbum.

The one who had survived.

The one who had stayed.

Seungbae's grip tightened. "Hands where I can see them, Sangwoo."

Sangwoo sighed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Really? After all this time, you still think you're in control?"

Seungbae took another step forward. Hyunwoo flanked him, his own stance guarded, but his gaze flicked between Sangwoo and Yoonbum.

And then—

Sangwoo's smirk deepened.

"I wonder…" he mused, his voice light, teasing, dangerous. "If I ran, would Bum come with me?"

Yoonbum's breath hitched.

Seungbae felt it.

The hesitation.

The way Yoonbum's fingers twitched, like they wanted to reach for Sangwoo's hand but didn't dare.

"Bum," Seungbae's voice was sharp, urgent. "Don't. Step. Any closer."

But Yoonbum was shaking. His gaze darted between Seungbae and Sangwoo.

Sangwoo—who was watching him with that look.

Like he already knew.

Like he'd already won.

And then—

Sangwoo moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

Yoonbum barely had time to react before a hand grabbed his wrist, yanking him forward—toward Sangwoo, away from Seungbae.

Seungbae fired.

The bullet missed.

Hyunwoo lunged.

But it was too late.

Sangwoo and Yoonbum had already vanished into the dark.

ー

Seungbae's heart was pounding. His hands were clenched around his gun, but the weight of failure pressed heavier on his chest.

Sangwoo had escaped.

And worse—Bum had gone with him.

Hyunwoo cursed under his breath, kicking the nearest dumpster in frustration. "Fucking hell. How did he move that fast?"

Seungbae's jaw tightened. He was furious. At himself. At Bum. At the ghost of Oh Sangwoo that refused to stay buried.

He turned sharply toward Hyunwoo. "We need to move. Now."

Hyunwoo ran a hand through his hair, still trying to process what had just happened. "Where the hell do we even start?"

Seungbae didn't hesitate. "Cameras. This alley. The streets. We track their movements, and we don't stop until we find them."

Hyunwoo sighed but nodded. "Alright. But if Bum doesn't want to be found—"

Seungbae cut him off, voice low, dangerous. "Bum is a victim. He doesn't get a choice."

Hyunwoo glanced at him. Seungbae's expression was stone.

No more games.

No more chances.

This time, Sangwoo was going to pay.

ー

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with dust and the faint scent of decay. The building had been abandoned for years—long enough for the city to forget about it.

A perfect hiding place.

Yoonbum sat on the old mattress, his knees pulled to his chest. His breath was still uneven, his mind racing.

He had run.

With Sangwoo.

The moment Seungbae fired that gun, something inside him had snapped.

He hadn't thought. He hadn't hesitated.

He had just moved.

And now he was here.

With him.

Sangwoo leaned against the doorway, watching him with an amused smirk. "You're shaking, Bum."

Yoonbum swallowed. His hands were trembling.

Sangwoo moved closer. Slow. Deliberate. Like a lion stalking its prey.

His fingers brushed against Yoonbum's cheek—too soft, too familiar.

"You still don't trust me?" Sangwoo murmured.

Yoonbum wanted to say no.

Wanted to scream, to fight, to run.

But instead—

His body leaned into the touch.

Sangwoo chuckled, fingers tilting Yoonbum's chin up so their eyes met.

"That's what I thought."

Yoonbum's chest ached.

He was trapped.

Again.

But part of him—the part that had always belonged to Sangwoo—didn't want to leave.

And that terrified him more than anything.

ー

Seungbae and Hyunwoo sat in front of the security footage, eyes scanning every second.

"There," Hyunwoo pointed at the screen. The grainy footage showed Sangwoo pulling Bum through the alley, disappearing into the shadows.

Seungbae rewound. Slowed it down.

His eyes narrowed at the path they took. "That direction leads to the old district."

Hyunwoo looked at him. "You think he has a place there?"

Seungbae's grip on the mouse tightened. "I know he does."

Sangwoo wasn't careless. If he was staying in the city, he had a plan. And if Bum was with him—

They had to move fast.

Because Seungbae knew one thing for certain.

If they didn't find him soon…

Bum was never coming back.

ー

The car screeched around the corner, tires barely gripping the wet pavement as Seungbae floored the gas. His pulse was hammering, his mind racing faster than the speedometer.

Hyunwoo braced himself against the dashboard. "Shit—slow down!"

Seungbae didn't listen. Couldn't. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, the neon glow of the city blurring past as his mind spiraled into one singular, unrelenting thought:

Sangwoo.

That bastard was out there, laughing, watching, waiting. Taunting him.

And Bum—

Seungbae's stomach churned at the image in his head. Bum's fragile body curled up in a corner, trembling, bleeding—just like before.

This time, though, there was no second chance. No waiting for the perfect moment. No hesitation.

He was ending this. Tonight.

Hyunwoo grabbed his arm. "You're not thinking straight—"

Seungbae snapped, voice like a gunshot. "If we don't get there now, Bum is dead."

Silence.

Hyunwoo swallowed. Looked away.

And Seungbae knew he was right.

ー

Bum's breaths were uneven, erratic. His fingers dug into the thin fabric of his sleeves, gripping them like they were the only thing holding him together.

The room was suffocating. The walls were too close, too dark.

And Sangwoo—

Sangwoo was watching him.

Sitting just a few feet away, legs crossed, arms draped lazily over his knees. Like this was just another night, just another game.

His lips curled. "You're still shaking."

Yoonbum flinched.

Sangwoo's eyes darkened. "After everything, you're still scared of me?"

Bum's throat was dry. He tried to speak, but the words—the truth—choked him.

Because it wasn't just fear.

It was everything.

The way Sangwoo's voice wrapped around him like chains. The way his touch burned and soothed at the same time.

The way, even now, he wanted to be wanted.

Sangwoo leaned in. Too close.

His fingers brushed against Bum's cheek, slow, deliberate. "I missed you, Bum."

Bum squeezed his eyes shut. Don't listen. Don't believe it.

But the next words made his breath hitch.

"I forgive you."

Bum's eyes snapped open.

Sangwoo was smiling. Gentle.

Like this was real. Like he meant it.

Like Bum was worth forgiving.

Something inside him cracked.

His body betrayed him.

He leaned forward.

And Sangwoo—

Sangwoo pulled him in.

The embrace was suffocating. Wrong.

But Bum—

Bum let it happen.

Because no one else had ever held him like this.

Not even once.

ー

Seungbae's gun was already drawn before the car even fully stopped.

The building was dark, silent. The kind of silence that pressed against your skin, that made your instincts scream at you to turn back.

Seungbae didn't turn back.

He kicked the door open.

The stench of dust, mold, and something rotting hit him first.

Then—

A voice.

Low, calm, so damn familiar.

"You're late."

Seungbae's blood ran ice cold.

At the far end of the room—

Sangwoo stood.

Smiling.

And in his arms—

Bum.

Clinging to him.

Seungbae's world split in half.

Bum wasn't tied up. Wasn't struggling.

He was holding onto Sangwoo.

Seungbae's grip on his gun faltered. His vision blurred at the edges.

"No," he muttered, breathless.

Sangwoo chuckled. "Took you long enough."

Bum's eyes met Seungbae's.

And what Seungbae saw there—

Broke him.

Not terror. Not desperation.

But relief.

Bum wasn't trying to escape.

He didn't want to be saved.

He wanted Sangwoo.

Seungbae's hands shook.

"Bum," he whispered, almost pleading.

Bum's lips parted. He hesitated—just for a second.

And Sangwoo—Sangwoo saw it.

His fingers tightened around Bum's wrist.

And the look in his eyes—

Possession. Victory.

"You should go, Detective," Sangwoo murmured. "He's already made his choice."

Seungbae's lungs stopped working.

Bum.

Bum had chosen.

And it wasn't him.

The weight of it was crushing.

But then—

Something shifted.

A flicker in Sangwoo's eyes.

A silent, unspoken challenge.

He was daring Seungbae to pull the trigger.

To end it.

Right here. Right now.

Seungbae's breath came in sharp, shallow bursts.

His hands steadied.

His finger tightened around the trigger.

And Sangwoo—

Smiled.

A low whisper, just for him.

"Do it."

Seungbae's world collapsed.

ー

The world had shrunk to this single moment.

Seungbae's gun was aimed at Sangwoo's forehead, his finger poised on the trigger. Every muscle in his body screamed for action, for justice, for revenge, for closure.

But he couldn't pull the trigger.

Because Bum was standing in front of him.

His thin body half-shielded Sangwoo, hands trembling as they clutched at Sangwoo's sleeve. His eyes—wide, desperate—locked onto Seungbae's, and his lips barely parted in a silent plea.

Don't.

Seungbae's breath came ragged. His pulse thundered in his ears.

"Move, Bum." His voice was raw, jagged. "He's manipulating you."

Bum flinched, his fingers twitching.

But he didn't move.

Sangwoo chuckled. Low, smug. His head tilted slightly, like he was studying a wild animal about to break free from its cage.

"You see it now, don't you?" Sangwoo murmured, his voice almost pitying. "Bum's not your hostage. He's mine."

Seungbae's vision blurred with rage. "Shut the hell up."

Sangwoo only smiled wider.

And then, in one slow, deliberate motion—

He leaned down.

And pressed a kiss to Bum's temple.

Seungbae saw red.

BANG.

The shot rang through the room like a thunderclap.

The echo bounced off the walls, swallowing every breath, every heartbeat.

Bum screamed.

Sangwoo jerked back. His shoulder hit the wall, his breath coming in short, surprised bursts.

A thin line of blood trickled down his arm.

Seungbae had missed his head—on purpose.

But the next shot?

The next shot wouldn't miss.

His hands were steady now.

His eyes locked onto Sangwoo, his aim never wavering.

Bum's breath hitched—then, before Seungbae could react, he lunged.

Straight into Sangwoo's arms.

And Sangwoo—bleeding, laughing, high off the chaos—wrapped his good arm around Bum like he had just won.

Like he had been waiting for this.

Like Seungbae had never stood a chance.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved," Sangwoo whispered, his voice mocking, victorious.

Seungbae knew it was bait.

But the truth of it still ripped through him like a blade.

His grip on the gun tightened.

He could do it.

Right here. Right now.

End Sangwoo.

Take Bum back—even if he had to drag him away screaming.

BANG.

Another shot—this time, from behind.

Seungbae barely had time to react before Hyunwoo was storming into the room, gun raised, eyes blazing with cold fury.

Sangwoo's smirk faltered.

"I'd put my hands up if I were you," Hyunwoo said, his tone eerily calm. "You're surrounded."

Sangwoo's eyes flicked between them. His lips curled slightly, but there was something sharper behind his gaze now—something calculating.

Then—

His grip on Bum tightened.

And Seungbae's blood turned to ice.

"No," he snarled, stepping forward. "You're not taking him—"

But Sangwoo moved.

Fast—too fast—a blur of motion and blood.

And then—

The sound of glass shattering.

Seungbae's heart stopped.

By the time he reached the window—

By the time he looked down into the dark alley below—

Sangwoo was gone.

And he had taken Bum with him.