But i wasn't a liar ✔️[ENG ver]

Part 7

Part 7

The cold night air stung the boy's cheeks as he ran, his bare feet slapping against the damp ground. His chest burned with each panicked breath, but he didn't dare stop—not when freedom was so close. The wall loomed ahead, his only chance—

"Stop! You damn kid! I'll kill you—just wait!"

The boy's fingers barely grazed the top of the wall when a crushing grip yanked him backward. He crashed to the ground, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Above him, Woosan's face twisted into something monstrous in the moonlight.

"I told you to stop!" Woosan's voice was a growl, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Is that right? I'll kill you—hahaha! Are you scared?"

The boy scrambled backward, his tears cutting tracks through the dirt on his face. Woosan's features—the jagged scar, the yellowed teeth, the eyes gleaming with cruelty—filled his vision.

"P-please... please don't kill me, Uncle!" The plea tore from his throat, raw and broken.

Woosan's laughter died. "I told you not to run away. But you ignored me." He leaned down, his shadow swallowing the boy whole. "Now you take the punishment."

The boy shook violently, his voice a whisper. "D-don't... please... I w-won't do it again—"

"Too late."

Woosan's hand clamped around the boy's thin arm like a vise, the bones grinding beneath his grip. The boy screamed as he was dragged across the rough ground, his cries swallowed by the darkness.

Somewhere, a door creaked open.
Somewhere, the other children held their breath.
Somewhere, the night swallowed another plea for mercy.

The room was deathly silent except for the boy's ragged breathing as Woosan shoved him forward, sending him sprawling at Jeon Sung's polished boots.

"This damn kid tried to run away," Woosan spat, grinning as the child trembled at their feet.

Jeon Sung leaned back in his chair, studying the boy like a bug under glass. "Nice job, Woosan." His voice was smooth, almost pleasant. "It's not good to leave here. Do you know why?"

The boy swallowed hard, his throat raw from screaming. "Wh...why?"

Jeon Sung's lips curled. "Because you'll become food for wolves."

The boy stared blankly, his tears dried up, his mind too broken to process the cruelty.

"Woosan," Jeon Sung said casually, "you can finish the game now."

"Of course." Woosan's grin widened as he pulled out his gun, the metal glinting under the dim light. The boy didn't even have time to beg before—

***BANG.***

The sound echoed through the room. The boy's body crumpled, lifeless, before it even hit the ground.

"Throw him to the wolves," Jeon Sung ordered, waving a hand as if dismissing trash.

As the guards dragged the small, limp body away, Jeon Sung stood and walked to the window, his reflection ghostly in the glass.

"The same thing almost happened again... just like eight years ago," he murmured, more to himself than anyone.

Woosan frowned. "Why do you keep talking about eight years ago? What happened?" He hesitated, then dared to ask, "What about Beol? Why did you kill him?"

Beol. The name made Jeon Sung's jaw tighten. His right-hand man—once loyal, once trusted—until he wasn't.

Woosan didn't know. He had only joined five years ago. He didn't know about the betrayal. The fire. The boy who escaped that night—the one who was never found.