The elevator doors of Green Home Apartments slid closed behind him, the metal slabs trapping him in the elevator with himself as it jostled its way up to the third floor. Sang-wook's right hand was clamped tight over a shoulder wound that was leeching blood through his fingers, dripping onto the floor in front of his worn boots. A half-finished cigarette burned between his lips as he waited. Sang-wook felt almost no pain from the wound; years of violence had taught him to block out pain and ignore it. The elevator stopped, the doors opening with a cheerful "ding" that echoed hollowly throughout the quiet hallway. Sang-wook pushed off the elevator walls and trudged down the hall, disregarding the trail of blood he was leaving behind him. He dug in the pocket of his cheap, polyester suit jacket and retrieved his apartment keys, unlocking the door and entering his apartment. He turned and slammed the door behind him, not caring who he'd wake.