The clock on the wall ticked too loud, its hands moving painfully slow, as if time itself was holding its breath.
Eunhwa sat alone in the small staff room, rubbing warmth back into his hands. The fluorescent light above him buzzed faintly, flickering with each gust of wind outside. He'd seen strange customers before—drunks, gamblers, lonely men with nowhere else to go at night—
But no one like him.
That man wasn't from this world.
Not the world Eunhwa lived in, at least.
Eunhwa could still feel the echo of his gaze.
Too direct. Too hungry.
Not lust, exactly—something heavier.
Like he'd decided Eunhwa was worth taking.
The memory made his palms sweat.
"Stop thinking about it," he whispered to himself, pressing his back against the cold wall. "He's just a customer. You'll never see him again."
He swallowed.
The lie tasted bitter.
Because something inside him whispered the opposite—
that the man didn't look like someone who did things only once.
---
The Storeroom
Going back out front felt suffocating. Instead, Eunhwa decided to restock shelves to keep busy. He opened the door to the cramped storeroom and stepped inside.
Boxes were stacked to the ceiling. The air smelled like cardboard and dust. He reached the top shelf, stretching on his toes—
THUD.
Eunhwa froze.
A soft, heavy impact against the back door.
Like someone leaning on it… or trying to get his attention.
"Hello…?" he called out, voice barely above a whisper.
Silence.
He took a step closer. His heartbeat hammered so loudly it drowned out the hum of the refrigerators.
He reached for the metal door handle—
THUMP.
This time harder.
Eunhwa stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a stack of water cartons.
No one should be behind that door.
No delivery scheduled.
No late-night workers.
As he debated whether to run or stay—
A familiar voice cut through the cold air.
A voice that made his breath stop.
"Eunhwa."
Soft. Low.
Dangerously certain.
Eunhwa's knees almost buckled.
His throat tightened around his breath.
That voice didn't belong in a convenience store's back alley. It belonged in whispered rumors, in the shadows of high-end clubs, in the backseat of blacked-out cars. It carried weight. Authority. Sin.
"H… how do you know my name?" Eunhwa managed, his voice cracking.
A faint chuckle.
Not loud.
Not mocking.
But confident—so confident it hurt.
"You told it to me," the man answered calmly. "Just now you forgot who you said it to."
Eunhwa's hands curled into fists at his sides.
His body trembled with something between fear and a strange… pull.
"But why are you here?" he whispered. "You already paid. You should've gone home."
A soft sound, almost like the man smiling through the door.
"Should I have?"
"I—I don't understand."
"You don't need to understand," he said. "You just need to answer my questions."
Eunhwa's pulse stumbled. "Wh-what questions…?"
"Why you left the counter," he said, his tone dipping lower, almost amused. "Why you're hiding in the back. Why you're trembling so much I can hear it through the door."
Eunhwa's breath hitched. He pressed a hand to his chest to steady himself, but it only made things worse, his heart pounding harder.
"I-I'm not hiding," he lied weakly.
Another soft, dark laugh.
"You are," the man murmured. "But it's fine. I don't mind when something I want tries to hide."
Eunhwa backed into the shelf until cold metal pressed into his spine.
M-something he wants?
What did that mean?
"W-who are you?" he whispered.
Silence.
Then—
"Someone who doesn't repeat himself. And someone you shouldn't ask questions unless you're ready to hear the answers."
Eunhwa felt his legs weaken again.
Who talked like that?
Who stood behind a store's back door and spoke like he was giving commands in a throne room?
The doorknob turned slightly.
Eunhwa gasped and stumbled back again.
But the door didn't open.
The man hummed softly.
A disappointed sound.
"I see. So you're scared of me."
"I'm not—"
"You are," the man interrupted. "Your breathing is fast. Your voice is unsteady. And you haven't come any closer since you heard my voice."
Eunhwa bit his lip.
He was right.
Of course he was right.
"But you don't have to be scared," the man said, and something in his tone softened—barely, but enough. "I'm not here to hurt you."
He paused.
"Unless someone else touches you first."
The words hit Eunhwa like a slap of cold water.
"What does—what does that even mean?"
"It means," the man said slowly, "that I don't like sharing."
Eunhwa's heart felt like it stopped then started again too fast.
Why him?
Why this man?
Why tonight?
"My shift is still… going," he whispered, voice close to breaking. "I can't talk like this. I could get fired."
"You won't," the man said. "Not if I say so."
Eunhwa swallowed hard.
The confidence in those three words didn't sound like arrogance.
It sounded like truth.
"Y-your shift ends at three. Right?" the man asked casually.
Eunhwa blanched.
"How… do you know that?"
A slow exhale came from outside.
"I asked your manager," he answered simply. "People are eager to talk when I approach them politely."
Eunhwa imagined what "politely" meant in his world.
A world of dark suits.
Of shadows.
Of whispers about power that crushed people like insects.
"Don't wait inside when your shift ends," the man said, voice dipping so low it vibrated through the metal door.
"I'll be at the front."
"Wait—"
"You heard me, Eunhwa."
He said his name like a string he was pulling.
"W-why do you want me?"
The simplest question—but the one Eunhwa feared the most.
The man didn't answer right away. The silence stretched so long Eunhwa thought he left.
Then—
"…Because you looked up at me like a frightened deer," he said softly. "And because I liked the way your voice shook when you spoke to me."
Eunhwa felt heat crawl up his neck despite the fear crushing him.
"And," the man added,
"I don't ignore things that interest me."
Eunhwa's breath caught.
Interest.
That meant this wasn't random.
The man wasn't bored.
He wasn't passing through.
He chose Eunhwa.
As if sensing his spiraling thoughts, the man chuckled.
"Don't worry about why I want you, Eunhwa."
His tone dropped, velvet over knives.
"Worry about what I'll do when I see you again."
Eunhwa's entire body trembled, unable to respond.
The footsteps finally retreated—slow, confident, like the man owned the world outside this little store.
Eunhwa waited five whole minutes before standing. His legs shook violently as he peeked through the small window on the back door.
Nothing.
The alley was empty.
But the absence didn't comfort him.
It made him feel exposed, like any moment the shadow of that man would appear again—long white hair, cold eyes, the tattoo on his hand coiling around his skin like a living thing.
He pressed both hands to his chest, trying to calm the panic—or was it anticipation?—raging inside him.
The warning his boss gave him returned in fragments.
A mafia family… ruthless, untouchable…
A man with a snake tattoo…
People vanish around him…
Never meet his eyes… never speak unless spoken to…
Eunhwa squeezed his eyes shut.
It couldn't be him.
It shouldn't be him.
But the way that man spoke…
The way he walked…
The way he commanded the air around him…
Eunhwa felt it in his bones:
He wasn't dealing with a normal man.
He was dealing with a mafia king.
And for some reason, that king wanted him.
And Eunhwa had no idea how to survive that kind of attention.