Jun-ho stepped into the silent room, his footsteps echoing like restrained warnings. In the corner, sitting on a chair with a bandaged hand and a bruised face, was Hyunwoo. A gash on his forehead, a split lip. Jun-ho stopped in front of him without saying a word.
Like staring at an insect trapped in a glass.
He took a slow breath, analyzing everything, the poorly closed cut above Hyunwoo's brow, the dried blood on the bandage, the way he avoided making direct eye contact. It wasn't just physical pain. It was humiliation. Maybe even regret.
A smile slipped from his lips
— I hope you've learned your lesson.
He didn't say a word. Silent. Scared and shaken.
— I wasn't here, so Salin handled it in my place. But… you had something to say to me?
Hyunwoo didn't even lift his head.
— I'm sorry. — It came out almost inaudibly.
— Hm?
— Forgive me, sir. I was really irresponsible. Thank you for sparing my life.
