CHAPTER 1
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Light flickered beyond the blindfold shrouding my eyes. My arms, firmly bound behind my back, had gone completely numb due to the lack of circulation. Below my bent knees, which had been in this awkward position for what felt like an eternity, I couldn't feel anything anymore.
Perched uncomfortably in this position, I strained to listen as intently as I could, for sound was now my only lifeline. The troubling part was that the situation I pieced together from the noises was equally grim.
Ever since my capture and arrival at this unfamiliar place, I had been subjected to groans accompanied by the gruesome sounds of flesh being torn apart. Now, all I could discern were the sounds of someone taking a severe beating. It was painfully obvious that the person had been rendered completely incapacitated, unable to utter a sound.
I longed to cry out for my mother. It had been a long time since I felt this desperate need, especially since I had grown into an adult. I wished I could just beg for my life, sprawled on the ground. I would have done so immediately upon being captured if not for the firm hand pressing down on the back of my neck. However, I understood the implicit message behind that silent warning: stay quiet if you want to live.
Suppressing my breath to survive, another heavy thud of flesh being struck resonated nearby. Startled, I attempted to raise my head, but the pressure from the hand on the back of my neck intensified, rendering me immobile.
"Ah, you can untie that one."
"His hands too?"
"Yes."
This was the first time I heard a voice other than the groans and blows. Yet instead of feeling relief, my trembling intensified. The periodic beating ceased as soon as that voice spoke. If there was an order to this inexplicable violence, it was now my turn. Why did I have to endure this? The injustice of it all made me want to cry, but I fought back the tears with all my strength. As I stifled my sobs, the person behind me clicked their tongue. Although my restraints on my arms loosened, I couldn't move immediately. After a moment, the clatter of metal hitting the floor reached my ears, followed by the gradual removal of my blindfold. The sudden rush of light stung my eyes, causing me to squint.
"Ah…."
The light danced painfully on my retinas, inducing a mild dizziness. I lowered my head to shield my eyes and caught a glimpse of the opulent carpet that adorned the floor through my blurred vision. I stared at an extravagantly patterned carpet that seemed straight out of a movie—specifically, a forgettable B-grade action flick where the villain sought to eliminate a witness who had glimpsed their face.
Perhaps, if I didn't make eye contact, they might spare me? I clung to that faint hope and tightly shut my eyes. However, it seemed my captor had never watched such movies; they wasted no time yanking my hair and forcing my head up. The pain of my scalp being tugged, coupled with the fear for my life, caused my body to tremble uncontrollably, and my teeth chattered audibly. I thought I heard someone click their tongue once more.
Was this where I'd meet my end? The notion of dying in such an absurd place filled me with bitterness, and I somehow managed to crack my eyes open. A voice from behind me attempted to diffuse the situation.
"Greenie, treat him with some respect."
"…Yes."
Respect? Now, at this juncture? Could there genuinely be such a thing as a respectful abduction?
If they had wanted to be respectful, they shouldn't have kidnapped me in the first place! I struggled to contain my rising anger and strained my ears to assess the situation. As I did so, I couldn't help but notice the peculiar tone in the voice of the unknown person. It was leisurely, with deliberate pauses between words, giving off a nonchalant vibe. Despite the circumstances, they sounded gentle and kind.
However, their personality must have been the complete opposite of their soothing voice, considering they had captured someone as innocent and law-abiding as me. Or perhaps they had mistaken me for someone else? Even though they had finally released my hair, I clung desperately to that last sliver of hope, praying they would realize their error.
In the meantime, the name 'Greenie' sounded strangely familiar. Was it perhaps the name of a neighborhood dog? Despite trembling with fear, I tilted my head in curiosity at the familiar name. Simultaneously, my eyes adjusted to the bright light, allowing me to examine the place where they had brought me.
It resembled someone's office, lavishly decorated as if no expense had been spared. Sunlight streamed in through a window on the far side of the room, casting a gleam on the dark wooden desk. The tall man leaning casually against the desk seemed like the owner of this opulent space. Dressed in a white shirt, brown suit pants, and a tuxedo vest, he exuded an undeniable air of danger.
As our eyes locked, he greeted me with a seemingly pleasant smile. The man casually tossed aside whatever he had been holding. The person in his grasp, barely recognizable due to being covered in blood, hit the floor without making a sound. Judging by their agonized squirming, they weren't dead, but they certainly appeared to be on the verge of death.
In that moment, the man noticed the bloodstains on his unique black leather gloves, which exposed the backs of his hands. He clicked his tongue softly, and even that sound carried an air of leisure. It was the kind of sound that might infuriate someone with a less patient disposition.
I, too, felt as if I were on the brink of losing my breath. It was only now that I recognized the man standing before me.
"I shouldn't be in this state if I'm supposed to welcome guests," he remarked casually, despite the gruesome circumstances.
He removed his gloves and dropped them to the floor. A metallic clank echoed as they hit the ground, a sound that didn't seem to match with leather.
For a brief moment, I glanced at the sinister-looking gloves before returning my gaze to the man. He had already retrieved another pair from the desk drawer and was now approaching me. I instinctively knew that it was my turn now. If I didn't comply with his wishes, my blood would stain this new pair of gloves.
Inwardly, I prayed that he wouldn't come any closer as I met his gaze. As he drew near, my line of sight gradually moved upward. The man was undeniably handsome, with broad shoulders, neatly groomed hair, and a prominent forehead. But the blood splatters on his cheeks gave him a bizarre and unsettling aura, making him look like a madman, albeit a remarkably good-looking one.
"Is your name Yeon Seonwoo?" he inquired, shattering my last hope of being mistaken for someone else. He spoke in his characteristic, languid tone, and his demeanor exuded arrogance and boredom, which seemed entirely out of place given the circumstances.
It was terrifying to witness such a man sitting in front of me, chuckling absurdly, as I swallowed my anxiety. If I wasn't mistaken, he was the protagonist of this world, capable of bending everything to his will. A person who could obtain and achieve anything he desired. But why on earth would someone like him kidnap an ordinary person like me?
"Master, there's... blood on you," a voice suddenly emerged from behind, gently wiping the blood from the man's cheek.
I was so startled that I momentarily forgot to breathe, not realizing there was someone else still present. However, my captor seemed unfazed by my reaction as the person behind him carefully cleaned his face. It was blood, not paint or sauce, that they were wiping away so nonchalantly.
"Apologies for my rudeness in front of guests," the man said, his impoliteness extending beyond just the blood on his face.
I wanted to question him about the impropriety of abducting me against my will and imprisoning me, but I refrained and instead lowered my gaze, mindful of who he was. It appeared that he was pleased with my submissive demeanor, as his smile took on a sinister twist.
Cursing under my breath, I realized he had deliberately shown me this violent scene to make it clear that I would meet a similar fate if I didn't comply.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I thought, feeling a sense of dread creeping over me.
"Yeon Seonwoo?"
While I was silently cursing to myself, the man called out my name once more. All I wanted to do was shout that I didn't know him and demand why he had dragged an innocent person into this chaotic situation. However, I wisely chose to bite my tongue, sensing the oppressive atmosphere that surrounded us.
Instead, I replied meekly, "Yes."
"Are you truly Yeon Seonwoo?"
Inside, I screamed, “No! I'm not the Yeon Seonwoo you're looking for!”
But outwardly, I forced out, "...Yes."
I clenched my teeth, feeling the dissonance between my mind and my mouth, a peculiar sensation I couldn't escape. The dread of being in deep trouble gnawed at me.
"I've heard you're a skilled mentalist. Is that true?"
He was clearly taunting me. But I knew, deep down, I wasn't the person he sought.
"I am a mentalist, but my skills are far from exceptional."
I tried to couch my honest thoughts in a positive light. Had I pushed it too far, though? The man fell silent for a moment, his head slowly tilting. His once-smiling face had transformed into a menacing, hardened expression, making him appear even more intimidating.