“Let her go.”
Wonchan’s expression sharpened — amusement fading into something colder.
“You think this is about her?” Wonchan asked, voice soft but sharp. “No, Taeyong. This—” he gestured lazily toward the trembling figure above, the gun in his hand glinting under the pale moonlight filtering through the ceiling holes “—this is about you all.”
Taeyong’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Wonchan laughed, bitter and dry. “You really don’t get it, do you? After everything we’ve been through—after all the blood we spilled together—you just erased me like I never existed.”
He took a slow step forward, the metal of his boots scraping the concrete. “One mistake. One. And suddenly I’m the monster. Suddenly I’m the one who doesn’t belong.”
His grin turned into something more feral. “But here’s the thing about monsters, Taeyong. You don’t erase them. You make them. You built me. Every one of you did.”
Jaehyun’s hands clenched into fists, trembling. Wonchan’s eyes flicked to him immediately, catching it.
“Ah, right. Especially you, JaeJae.” His tone dripped with venom. “You were always the good one, weren’t you? The loyal one. Always following orders. Always hiding behind your leader’s shadow. You never questioned what they did to me, did you? You just watched.”
Jaehyun’s jaw tensed. “You destroyed that trust yourself.”
Wonchan’s smile vanished. “No. You destroyed it the moment you turned your back on me.”
He gestured upward again, voice darkening. “So now, I’m just returning the favor. You took everything that made me human—my crew, my name, my place—so I am taking something from you.”
His tone lowered, almost intimate. “Not Taeyong’s reputation. Not your weapons. No—something you actually care about. Something that hurts.”
He snapped his fingers, and Youngmin shoved the girl forward, until the tips of her shoes were over the edge. The sound of her scared whimper through the cloth cutting like a knife.
“She’s not part of this!” Jaehyun yelled, taking another step.
Wonchan smirked. “No, she isn’t. But that’s what makes it perfect, doesn’t it? She’s innocent. And that’s exactly why this hurts more. Because you know she doesn’t deserve it—just like I didn’t deserve what you did to me.”
For a moment, the mask slipped — his anger flared raw and unfiltered.
Then he breathed in, composed himself, smile returning like a wound reopening.
“You wanted to forget me? Fine. But I’ll make damn sure you remember this night every time you close your eyes.”
He let the silence stretch, then smiled again — quieter this time, but crueler.
“Tell me, Jaehyun— does it burn? Watching her up there, shaking, bleeding… while you do nothing?”
Above, Youngmin shoved her forward again. The only thing that prevented her from falling was him holding her shirt from the back. The sound of her muffled cry grated through the air- small and broken.
Jaehyun lunged before Taeyong could stop him— but Johnny was faster, locking an arm around his chest and dragging him back into cover.
“Don’t—” Johnny hissed. “You’ll kill her if you move now.”
Wonchan’s laughter rose again, ringing off the walls. “See? I don’t even have to try. You tear yourselves apart all on your own.”
He pointed his pistol upward toward the bridge, firing a single shot into the ceiling. The noise exploded through the hall. Soul flinched violently, collapsing sideways against the railing.
