Dawn clawed its way over the slums in dirty streaks of gray and blood-orange, the kind of light that made every bruise look fresh and every threat feel permanent. Inside Deok-su's heavy-beamed house, the air was thick with incense, sweat, and the metallic stink of power about to shift. The fat bundle of duplicated ginseng roots sat on the low table like a bribe from the gods themselves—plump, perfect, worth more than half the market row would see in a year.
Deok-su's thick fingers rolled one root between them, sniffing again. His eyes flicked from the ginseng to Seo-joon, then to Min-seo standing rigid at Seo-joon's side, then to the magistrate's cousin and the six armed officials blocking the door.
"Expensive roots," Deok-su rumbled. "Expensive words too, root boy. You're asking me to spit in the face of a sealed warrant."
The cousin smiled like a man who already owned the room. "The warrant is iron, Jang Deok-su. The girl aided sorcery. Coin forgery. The magistrate wants her questioned. Personally. Hand her over, release Gu Chil, and this unpleasantness ends. Refuse… and we take the girl anyway. And your little root empire with her."
Min-seo's fingers dug into Seo-joon's forearm, nails biting through the thin cloth. Her body was pressed tight against his side—hip to hip, the heat of her still-flushed skin bleeding through the torn blouse and his outer robe she still wore. The fresh bite mark he'd left on her neck last night was visible above the collar. She hadn't bothered hiding it.
Seo-joon felt her tremble once, then go steel-hard. Her breath brushed his ear. "If they drag me out of here," she whispered, voice low and shaking with rage and something darker, "you'd better come after me. And when you do… finish what you started against that wall. I don't want gentle. I want the monster who says I'm his."
The words went straight to his cock, hard and aching even now, in the middle of ruin. He didn't look at her. Couldn't. If he did he'd shove her behind the table and take her right there just to prove no one else ever would.
Instead he stepped forward, voice calm as ledger ink. "Those roots aren't a gift. They're proof. My supply is endless. Fixed fee, revenue share, branded product. In thirty days your cut is triple what Gu Chil ever delivered. Hand the girl over and you lose that. You lose the market trust. You lose everything when word spreads that officials can just walk in and take any woman they want for 'questioning.'"
The cousin laughed softly. "Pretty speech from a beggar. The magistrate has already decided. The girl comes now. Unless…" His eyes slid over Min-seo like oil, lingering on the way the robe gaped at her chest, the curve of breast visible where the blouse had torn. "Unless she wants to be reasonable. A night or two in better quarters. A few honest answers. Maybe the warrant disappears. A slum girl like her should be grateful for the attention."
Min-seo's breath caught. Seo-joon felt the rage detonate behind his eyes—the same cold, bottomless rage that had lived in him since Seoul, since every person who had ever used him and thrown him away. His hand shot out and grabbed the cousin by the front of his finer hanbok, yanking him close enough to smell the fear-sweat under the perfume.
"Touch her," Seo-joon said, soft enough that only the cousin heard, "and I will feed you your own tongue before the sun clears the roofs. Then I'll make sure every ledger in this city shows exactly how much you and your magistrate cousin have been skimming from the gambling dens. I have witnesses. I have numbers. And I have roots that never run out. Choose."
For one heartbeat the cousin's eyes widened—real fear. Then two officials grabbed Seo-joon's arms and hauled him back. A sword hilt slammed into his ribs. He tasted blood.
Deok-su slammed a fist on the table. The ginseng bundle jumped. "Enough!" The old slum lord's voice cracked like a whip. "I run this row. Not the magistrate. Not you paper dogs." He looked at Seo-joon, eyes narrowed. "The roots are real. The deal is real. But politics is politics. I can stall the warrant until noon. Gu Chil stays locked until then. The girl stays with you—under my eye. You deliver triple revenue by sunset or I hand her over myself and take the business anyway. That's the best I can give."
The cousin's face twisted with fury, but he knew when the ground had shifted. "Noon," he spat. "Not one breath longer. And when we come back, we won't be asking nicely."
The officials filed out, leaving the room ringing with silence.
Deok-su leaned back, chewing the inside of his cheek. "You just bought yourself half a day with devil roots and a death wish, boy. Pray it's enough."
Min-seo let out a shaky breath and turned into Seo-joon, burying her face against his chest for one raw second. Her hands slid under his shirt, nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood. "Half a day," she whispered against his throat. "Then they come for me. So if I'm really yours like you keep saying… take me somewhere private before noon. Make me forget their hands. Make me feel only yours. Even if it's the last time."
The words were filthy and desperate and honest. Seo-joon's hand slid down her spine, cupping her ass through the skirt, pulling her flush against the hard line of him so she could feel exactly how badly he wanted to drag her into the back room right now and fuck the fear out of both of them.
Kang Yul cleared his throat from the corner. "Gu Chil is still in the back cell. Screaming about revenge. He knows the girl's name. He knows everything."
Seo-joon didn't let her go. "Then we use the half-day. Wol and Mak-bong should be back soon with Dal-rae's statement. We pile the proof until even the magistrate can't ignore it. And if that fails…"
He looked at the wrapped bundle behind the altar in his mind—the pot waiting in the cave.
He'd duplicate something bigger next time. Something that could buy more than roots.
Something that could buy blood.
Min-seo kissed the side of his neck, quick and vicious, teeth grazing skin. "Don't you dare go soft now," she breathed. "I want the man who would burn it all down for me."
Outside, the first true light of morning hit the alley.
Noon was coming fast.
And somewhere in the back cell, Gu Chil was laughing like a man who already knew how the day would end.