Won sank heavily into the couch, dragging his hands down his tired face. His chest felt like a weight had been pressed into it, every breath coming shallow.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Michael watching him with those wide, questioning eyes.

“Won…?” Michael’s voice was soft, hesitant. “Who was that man?”

Won froze. His throat tightened as his mind scrambled for words.

How the hell am I supposed to explain this?

His gaze flicked to the black card pinched between his fingers, its edges digging into his palm. He tightened his grip until the cardboard bent, wishing it could just dissolve in his hand.

Forcing a smile—thin, shaky, unconvincing—he looked at Michael. 

“He’s… someone I used to know. You don’t have to worry about him.”

Michael crept closer, sitting down beside him. His voice trembled.

 “Is he dangerous?”

Won’s heart stumbled. A lump rose in his throat, and for a moment he couldn’t speak. Then, too quickly, too stiffly, he said,

 “No way. He’s… not.”

But behind the mask of calm, the memory of Rocky’s words carved into him like a knife. His threat echoed in Won’s head.

Twelve hours… Damn it. What am I supposed to do?

His eyes darted toward the door, half-expecting it to burst open.

Won stood abruptly, pacing the cramped room, his teeth gnawing at his thumbnail until it hurt.

There has to be another way. I can’t trust him. He’s dangerous.

Michael hugged a pillow tightly to his chest, watching him in silence. Then, almost too quietly to hear, he asked,

 “Won… Are we in trouble?”

Won froze mid-step. He forced a smile, though his hands trembled.

 “No, buddy. Everything’s fine.”

Michael’s eyes softened with sadness. He whispered, 

“You’re lying.”

The words cut deeper than any threat.

Won’s expression faltered. Slowly, he sat back down beside him. His voice was low, careful.

 “I’m trying to figure things out, that’s all.”

He raked his fingers through his messy hair, his gaze falling once more on the business card resting on the table. Its glossy surface seemed to gleam mockingly at him.

Twelve hours. He said twelve hours. If I don’t answer, what then? Will they arrest me? Take Michael away?

A flash of memory gripped him—Rocky’s cold, unblinking eyes.

“Think fast, kid.”

Won’s jaw clenched. He gripped his knees until his knuckles went white.

Damn it… I don’t have a choice. I’ll play along. Just until I find a way out.

His hand shot out, snatching the card like it might burn him.

An old, battered phone sat on the table. He picked it up, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. His thumb hovered before he forced himself to dial.

Beep… beep… beep…

The ringing filled his ear, loud and suffocating.

Won shut his eyes, every muscle coiled tight.

This is for Michael. Only for him.

The phone rang in his hand, every shrill note digging into his nerves.

Ring… Ring…

Won’s grip tightened until the plastic creaked, sweat slicking his palm. He swallowed hard, waiting, each second dragging him closer to a fate he couldn’t name.

Ring… Ring…

Then, a click.

A smooth, amused voice slid through the receiver.

“Took you long enough.”

Won’s jaw locked. He forced the growl from his throat into something almost neutral.

“I’m not agreeing to anything yet.”

On the other end, he could almost see Rocky’s smirk. The man lounged in his sleek office chair, phone pressed lazily to his ear, as if this was nothing more than a casual chat.

“Relax,” Rocky drawled. “I didn’t expect a love confession.”

Won’s temple throbbed. His eye twitched.

“Then what do you want?”

A pen clicked, the faint metallic sound carried through the line. Rocky’s voice was smooth, calculated.

“Face-to-face. I don’t like long phone calls.”

Won froze. His throat tightened. He managed a single, flat word.

“Where?”

He imagined Rocky leaning back, spinning some shiny keychain around his fingers, as though orchestrating all of this was child’s play.

“My office,” Rocky said, calm as ever. “location is on the card.”

Won’s lips pressed into a thin line. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, heavy and suffocating.

This is suicide…

Turning, he caught Michael watching him from the couch, wide eyes full of worry. The sight hit him harder than Rocky’s words. Won forced a crooked smile, as steady as he could muster.

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Stay inside.”

Michael’s small voice broke through the tension.

“Promise?”

Won hesitated. For a moment, the promise felt like a lie he had no right to give. But Michael needed it. So, he nodded firmly.

“Promise.”

Michael clutched the pillow tighter, as if holding onto that word would keep him safe.

Won shoved the business card into his pocket and stepped out into the night. The cold air bit against his skin, sharp and merciless, like the path he had just chosen. Every step carried him closer to the lion’s den — and to Rocky, the predator waiting inside.

The building looked abandoned at first glance—tall and tucked deep within the city’s quietest backstreets, windows darkened, shadows pressed tightly against the walls. Won stood before it, hood pulled low, eyes scanning the street one last time.

This is so stupid...

Still, he moved forward.

The door creaked open beneath his hand, revealing a narrow hallway stretched out like a throat — dimly lit, silent except for the faint buzzing of a fluorescent bulb.

His sneakers echoed softly with every step as he walked.

At the end of the hall, one door stood out — slightly ajar, light bleeding through the crack. A faded plaque read

 “Office.”

He raised his hand.

Knock. Knock.

A pause. Then—

“Come in,” 

came that familiar, too-casual voice. Smooth. Confident. Dangerous.

Won exhaled, pushing the door open.

Inside, Rocky sat behind a wide desk, draped in shadows and power, one leg lazily crossed over the other. He didn’t rise. Didn’t even straighten up.

Just smirked.

Like he’d known from the very beginning that Won would come.

And Won… stepped inside anyway.

Rocky’s sharp eyes flicked up from the desk, a flicker of amusement curling his lips as Won stepped inside.

“Right on time,” he said smoothly.

Won didn’t respond. His entire body was wound tight, fists clenched at his sides. His eyes were fierce, burning with distrust. 

“What do you want from me?” he asked flatly.

Rocky leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, fingers laced.

 “Simple,” he said. “Work for me.”

Won froze. His breath caught in his throat, the words echoing inside his skull like a cruel joke.

 Did he just say that straight to my face?

“Work for you?! What the hell are you talking about?”

The smirk on Rocky’s face faded, replaced by a quiet steel that made the temperature in the room drop. His next words were sharp. Cold.

“If you don’t, the police find out you’ve been hiding a missing child.”

Won went still. Like his entire body had shut down, trying to absorb the blow.

“You’re blackmailing me...?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Rocky tilted his head, casually brushing invisible dust from his jacket.

 “Call it... a mutually beneficial agreement.”

Won’s hands shook. He took a step forward, eyes blazing with fury. 

“You can’t just force me—”

“You’re out of options,”

 Rocky said, cutting him off. His tone wasn’t cruel — it was worse. It was calm. Logical. 

“Think carefully.”

Won’s mouth opened. Closed. His chest heaved with shallow breaths. The walls of the office seemed to close in on him, suffocating.

Silence stretched.

Then Rocky leaned back, smug, eyes glittering like he already knew what decision had been made.

“I’ll even make it easier for you,” he said smoothly.

 “I’ll keep your secret... and in return, you do a few jobs for me. Nothing too messy.”

Won stood frozen, his entire world teetering on a dangerous edge.

Outside, the city pulsed — unaware that one boy’s life was about to change forever.

Won looked up, wariness etched across his face. His voice was quiet but strained.

“What do you mean?”

Rocky gave him a slow, deliberate smile — the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You and the kid will live here.”

The words hit Won like a slap.

“What?!” he blurted, taking an instinctive step back.

Rocky twirled a sleek pen between his fingers, completely unfazed by the outburst.

“I’m not letting you run off with him again,” 

he said, like it was the most logical thing in the world. 

“Here, I can keep an eye on you... and you’ll work for me properly.”

Won’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned bone-white. Every part of him screamed for escape — for distance — for freedom.

But there was nowhere to go.

This bastard.......He planned everything. He thought jaw tight.

Rocky’s voice dropped into something cooler, heavier — the weight of a decision that didn’t feel like one.

“Choose, Won. Freedom’s not one of your options.”

The room was silent.

Won stood frozen — the walls pressing in, the windows far too high to climb through, the world outside farther than ever. He could feel Rocky’s gaze on him — like a lion watching a cornered fox, patient and merciless.

He had no choice.