Tick… tick… tick…

  Sugus still held that teasing smile, chin resting on her hand, like she was waiting for his next attempt to keep control.

  Yudoson slowly closed his notebook.

  The dry sound of paper echoed through the small room.

  She noticed immediately.

  Something had changed.

  He didn’t write.

  He didn’t look away.

  He just stayed silent for a few seconds… thinking.

  Then he spoke.

  — Second-to-last question.

  His voice came out low. Cold.

  Empty of emotion.

  Sugus raised an eyebrow, curious.

  — Go ahead.

  He lifted his eyes.

  Straight into hers.

  — What if I told you… you’re not my type?

  Her smile didn’t vanish — but it froze for a split second.

  He continued:

  — …and that you should stop messing with me using those little “temptations” of yours?

  The air in the room grew heavier.

  Sugus opened her mouth to reply—

  —but he stood up first.

  His hands hit the table.

  THAM.

  He leaned forward, closing the distance, imposing himself for the first time since they entered the room.

  It wasn’t uncontrolled anger.

  It was pressure.

  Presence.

  Authority.

  His gaze was hard — tired, wounded… but unshakably firm.

  — ’Cause I’m not in the mood for this — he said quietly, bluntly. — And I’m never getting involved with creatures like you.

  Her smile disappeared completely.

  He leaned even closer, staring without blinking.

  — Look at my face… and tell me my love is still intact.

  Silence.

  This time… it was different.

  The question wasn’t a provocation.

  It was an exposed wound.

  Dark smoke rose behind him, swirling stronger now, reacting to the emotion he was forcing down.

  Sugus blinked.

  Once.

  Twice.

  And for the first time since the interview began…

  she didn’t have an answer ready.

  Her eyes searched his face — not with flirtation, not with manipulation.

  But looking for something.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Something she clearly expected to find… and didn’t.

  A slow breath slipped past her lips.

  Her posture, once relaxed and dominant, faltered slightly.

  Her fingers tightened around her own arm.

  A small gesture.

  Unintentional.

  — …You… — she started, then stopped.

  The theatrical confidence cracked.

  Her gaze dropped for a second, avoiding his.

  Sugus swallowed.

  Her composure… was gone.

  Because that question didn’t hit the game.

  It hit her.

  And for the first time…

  the one being studied wasn’t Yudoson.

  It was Sugus.

  The silence between them stretched for one last second.

  Then Yudoson straightened.

  Slowly.

  Deliberately.

  His eyes never left hers.

  He raised one hand and pointed behind him — toward the door.

  His voice came out calm.

  Too calm.

  — When you walk out that door… you’re going to betray me.

  Sugus’ expression shifted, subtle but real.

  He didn’t wait for a response.

  He closed the notebook with a sharp motion.

  — Session’s over.

  He turned away already walking.

  — Have a damn night, Sugus… sweetheart.

  The last word dripped with sarcasm.

  No warmth.

  No emotion.

  Just dismissal.

  The door opened.

  Then closed behind him.

  Click.

  The bar noise rushed back all at once.

  Music. Laughter. Glasses clinking.

  Normal life.

  Yudoson walked between the tables without looking at anyone, coat brushing past strangers, neon lights flickering over his face.

  He was almost at the exit—

  THUD.

  A massive shoulder slammed into him.

  A large man blocked his path, drunk anger burning in his eyes.

  — So YOU’RE the bastard?!

  Yudoson barely reacted.

  Another voice shouted from behind.

  — That girl upstairs said you tried something with her!

  Murmurs spread instantly.

  Chairs scraped.

  People turned.

  Sugus’ accusation moved faster than truth ever could.

  Yudoson stood still.

  Silent.

  Contained.

  His jaw tightened… but he said nothing.

  The first punch came without warning.

  CRACK.

  His head snapped sideways.

  Gasps erupted.

  Then another hit.

  And another.

  More men joined, fueled by alcohol and false heroism.

  Fists rained down.

  He didn’t fight back.

  Didn’t defend himself.

  He just endured.

  Curled slightly inward, arms close to his body.

  Breathing heavier.

  Something inside him beginning to tear open.

  Images flashed violently through his mind—

  Hana’s death.

  Moriko’s false accusation.

  Cold prison walls.

  Voices judging him without listening.

  Men believing lies without hesitation.

  Pain stacked over pain.

  Memory over memory.

  His fingers trembled.

  Dark smoke leaked from his shoulders.

  Thicker now.

  Alive.

  A low sound escaped his throat.

  Not human.

  A growl.

  The attackers hesitated.

  Too late.

  Yudoson lifted his head.

  And then—

  He roared.

  Not a scream.

  A roar.

  Two voices overlapped — his own and something deeper, older, monstrous.

  The sound exploded through the bar like a shockwave.

  A lion’s fury mixed with something far worse.

  Glasses rattled.

  Music cut abruptly.

  Every conversation died instantly.

  People froze.

  Even the drunkest among them felt it.

  Fear.

  Raw, instinctive fear.

  His face twisted as black veins crawled beneath his skin.

  Dark matter spread along his jaw and cheek like living shadow.

  Eyes glowing faintly.

  A half-formed Decay — something between man and monster.

  A semi-Venom silhouette breathing through him.

  The men who attacked stepped back immediately.

  One stumbled.

  Another fell trying to retreat.

  Nobody moved closer.

  Nobody dared.

  Yudoson slowly lifted his gaze.

  Upstairs.

  Toward the balcony.

  Toward Sugus.

  For a moment…

  he looked like a beast ready to hunt.

  Pure killing intent flickered across his expression.

  His body leaned forward—

  Ready to go after her.

  Ready to end it.

  Then—

  He stopped.

  His eyes widened slightly.

  As if waking from a nightmare.

  He jerked his head away violently.

  “No.”

  The word barely escaped.

  He turned abruptly and pushed through the crowd.

  People moved aside instantly.

  No one tried to stop him.

  He burst through the exit door into the cold night air.

  The neon lights faded behind him as he ran down the sidewalk.

  One hand covering part of his face.

  The transformation receding.

  Breathing uneven.

  Shoulders shaking.

  And despite everything—

  tears slipped quietly from his eyes as he kept running.

  Not from fear.

  Not from pain.

  But from exhaustion.

  From carrying a curse that refused to let him live like a normal human ever again.