A filthy, wretched den of crime. An anthill.
I was a pure-blood ant, born and raised here.
"But I'm still just a worker ant."
Ants are not permitted to escape.
Perhaps this was the price of dreaming of freedom—what came back wasn't an ID card, but my friend, reduced to ashes from the incinerator.
I had resigned myself to everything.
That was when Jang Heejo, the true power of this anthill, appeared before me.
"Then will you take me?"
"I want my first time to be with someone I love."
Love? First time?
Isn't that too romantic a word to come from a man who leaves bloodshed in his wake every single day?
"It doesn't have to be love for me."
"Well,"
The shift in our positions happened in an instant.
"Depending on how your holes look, you might just become my first love."